More on Chalcosyrphus

Here are two more photos of the fly I tentatively identified as Chalcosyrphus sp. The first photo shows the all-black coloration with no trace of either steel blue highlights (seen in C. chalybea) or red abdominal markings (seen in C. piger). It also gives a better view of the enlarged and ventrally spinose metafemora. The second photo shows the holoptic (contiguous) eyes that make me think this is a male individual (if, indeed, this is true for syrphids as with tabanids).

I’m hoping that posting these will provide any passing dipterists with the information needed for a firmer ID (and possibly an explanation of the purpose of those intriguingly modified hind legs).

Lateral view showing black abdomen with no trace of red (except what appears to be a parasitic mite).

Do the holoptic eyes identify this as a male?

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

T.G.I.Flyday – Chalcosyrphus?

When I was an entomology student, I learned that flies in the family Syrphidae are called “hover flies,” due to their habit of hovering in front of flowers, and that the larvae are predators of aphids. As is the case for nearly every other group of insects, I now know that there are exceptions–often many—to the typical rule, and the fly shown in the above photograph is a perfect example of such. Being a beetle-man (and a wood-boring beetle-man, at that), I don’t generally notice flies unless there is something unusual about them. This fly was seen last summer at Sam A. Baker State Park in southeastern Missouri on the trunk of a very large, recently wind-thrown mockernut hickory (Carya alba) tree. I had never seen a fly quite like this before, but everything about it suggested an intimate association with dead wood, including its relatively large, hulking, black form and the way it repeated returned to and landed on the trunk of the dead tree each time I disturbed it. It instantly made me think of robber flies in the subfamily Laphriinae, which includes Andrenosoma fulvicaudum and many species of Laphria that, as larvae, tunnel through dead and decaying wood where they prey upon the larvae of wood-boring beetles. While it was quite obvious that the fly in the photo was not a robber fly, imagine my surprise when I eventually determined it to be a member of the family Syrphidae. For now I’ve provisionally settled on the genus Chalcosyrphus, although it lacks the steely blue cast exhibited by the only all-black species of the genus—C. chalybeus—shown on BugGuide. Another species, C. piger, looks very similar but seems always to have some red on the abdomen, which this individual definitely lacks. Perhaps the related genus Xylota is also a possibility, although the “gestalt” does not seem to quite match that of any shown on BugGuide. Most interesting for me are the distinctly enlarged and toothed metafemora, which along with the correspondingly curved tibiae suggest some predatory function, but the literature that I have seen makes no mention of such, but rather that the adults feed on pollen. My hunch about its association with dead wood does seem to be true, although it now seems the larvae are saprophages rather than predators within the wood, as I first imagined.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Fathers Day at the Missouri Botanical Garden

Yesterday my girls (wife Lynne and daughters Mollie and Madison) took me and my father to the Missouri Botanical Garden for Fathers Day. Although I’m an entomologist, I also have a strong botanical bent, and although my wife and father are not scientists like me, they nevertheless find a day at the Missouri Botanical Garden as enjoyable as I do. The girls, on the other hand, will never admit that they like it the way the rest of us do, but I think deep inside they enjoy it very much and, in later years, will look upon these visits as some of their fondest Mothers and Fathers Day memories.

Me and daughters Mollie and Madison.

My father and I have been back together for 20 years now. With my wife and daughters, he has become one of the most important persons in my life. I wrote an essay about my father four years ago that explains how he made me whole—it still rings true today.

Me and Pop.

I have been to the Missouri Botanical Garden many, many times over the years, but one sight have have still never seen is a corpse flower (Amorphophallus titanum). I learned earlier this week that one of their plants is about ready to bloom, so I eagerly looked for this plant as we wound our way through the Climatron. As we came near the end and I still hadn’t seen it, I wondered if somehow I had missed it along the path. Suddenly I caught a glimpse of the giant 3′ tall flower bud near the end of the footpath, and I knew instantly that I had found what I was looking for.

Corpse flower (Amorphophallus titanum) getting ready to bloom.

I will be keeping track of the progress of this flower over the next couple of weeks on the Missouri Botanical Garden Facebook page in hopes that I can see it again when the flower opens fully—a rare botanical treat that few people ever get the chance to experience!

Corpse flower explained.

In my younger years when I had a bit more free time on my hands I was a hobbyist orchid grower. I didn’t have a greenhouse but nevertheless managed to keep a steady supply of plants in bloom by growing them outdoors under shade cloth with heavy watering and fertilizing during the summer and moving them indoors under fluorescent lights and in bright windows during the winter. I don’t have nearly the time for such pursuits these days, but I still enjoy looking at their exquisite and infinitely diverse blooms whenever I have the chance, and the Climatron never fails to disappoint.

One of many epiphytic orchids blooming in the Climatron.

While walking through the Climatron, I noticed a very exotic looking lizard on the trunk of one of the trees. I watched it licking exudate from the trunk and thought such behavior seemed rather odd. I later learned that this was the Standing’s day gecko (Phelsuma standingi), and that it might have an important role in pollinating the double coconut palm (Loidiocea maldivica). Both are endemic to the Seychelles Islands north of Madagascar, with the latter bearing the largest seed of any plant in the world (up to 45 lbs. in weight). The photo below was taken of another individual through the glass of its terrarium and, thus, lacks some clarity, but it shows the vivid colors and markings that distinguish these diurnal geckos from the other more typically nocturnal members of the gecko infraorder.

Standing’s day gecko (Phelsuma standingi).

While not gracing this post in a photo, many thanks to my loving wife, Lynne, who is the best mother my daughters could ask for and who helped make yesterday the special day for me and my father that it was!

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Beetle botanists

Calligrapha spiraeae on Physocarpus opulifolius | Jefferson Co., Missouri

While Dicerca pugionata (family Buprestidae) is, for me, the most exciting beetle species that I’ve found in Missouri associated with ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius). it is not the only one. The beetles in these photographs represent Calligrapha spiraeae, the ninebark leaf beetle (family Chrysomelidae). Unlike D. pugionata, however, I almost never fail to find C. spiraeae on ninebark, no matter when or where I look, and whereas D. pugionata has been recorded in the literature associated with a few other host plants like alder (Alnus spp.) and witch-hazel (Hamamelis virginiana), C. spiraeae is not known to utilize any other plant besides ninebark as its host.

Beetles in the genus Calligrapha are among the most host-specific of all phytophagous beetles, with most of the 38 species in this largely northeastern North American genus relying upon a single plant genus as hosts (Gómez-Zurita 2005). The genus as a whole is fairly recognizable by its dome-like shape and black and white or red coloration, with the black markings on the elytra varying from coalesced to completely broken into small spots. The species, however, are another matter, with several groups of species that are quite difficult to distinguish morphologically. Fortunately most of them can be easily distinguished by their host plant (although such information is rarely recorded on labels attached to museum specimens). Calligrapha spiraeae, for example, with its reddish coloration and small black spots, looks very much like two other species in the genus—C. rhoda and C. rowena. Those latter species, however, are restricted to hazel (Corylus spp.) and dogwood (Cornus spp.); as long as the host is known, the species can be readily identified in the field.

At this point you may be wondering why the species name refers to the plant genus Spiraea rather than Physocarpus. In fact, ninebark was already known as the host plant when Say (1826) described the species, but the name spiraeae was given because at the time ninebark was included in the genus Spiraea (Wheeler & Hoebeke 1979).

REFERENCE:

Gómez-Zurita, J. 2005. New distribution records and biogeography of Calligrapha species (leaf beetles), in North America (Coleoptera: Chrysomelidae, Chrysomelinae). Canadian Field-Naturalist 119(1): 88–100.

Say, T. 1826. Descriptions of new species of coleopterous insects of North America. Journal of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia 5:293–304.

Wheeler, A. G., & E. R. Hoebeke. 1979. Biology and seasonal history of Calligrapha spiraeae (Say) (Coleoptera: Chrysomelidae), with descriptions of the immature stages. The Coleopterists Bulletin 33:257–267. 

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Damon diadema—Tanzanian giant tailless whip scorpion

Damon diadema, Tanzanian giant tailless whip scorpion (adult female)

I’ve reared more than my share of arthropods over the years—from easy ones like Madagascan hissing cockroaches to hard ones like certain tiger beetles (in fact, I’m the only person to have ever seen the larva of Cylindera celeripes, much less reared them from egg to adult) to the innumerable tarantulas, scorpions, millipedes, hickory horned devils, darkling beetles, etc. that fall somewhere in between. And that’s just as a hobby entomologist—nevermind that it has often been my job over the years to rear dozens of species of insects and other “critters” as part of my professional duties. One group of arthropods, however, that I have not yet tried to rear are tailless whip scorpions or whip spiders. Members of the arachnid order Amblypygi, they are not scorpions, not whip scorpions, not even spiders, but rather something else. Like other arachnids they have eight legs and the combined head and thorax (cephalothorax); however, more than any other arachnid, tailless whip scorpions have stumbled upon a most insect-like body plan—the first pair of true legs are modified to long, thin, sensory appendages that mimic in form and function insect antennae, leaving—again, like insects—only three pairs of walking legs, and as predators they have the anteriormost pair of appendages (pedipalps) modified into grasping,  jaw-like structures analogous to the toothy mandibles of predaceous insects.

Adult males have the pedipalps extending past the ”knee” of the first pair of walking legs…

Of course, any resemblance to insects ends right there—tailless whip scorpions look like they belong not only to another class, but another world! Flattened, scuttling sideways at blinding speeds, and with legs all asplay at odd angles, they are as frightful and menacing in appearance as the hairiest, jaws-dripping-with-venom spider imaginable. However, nothing could be further from the truth. Lacking the sting of a scorpion, the venom of a spider, the powerful bite of other “jawed” creatures, or even defensive chemicals of any kind, tailless whip scorpions have only their speed and ability to hide in the slimmest of crevices to prevent them from becoming easy meals for the vertebrate predators with which they share their world.

…while in females the pedipalps are distinctly shorter.

The male and female Damon diadema, or Tanzanian giant tailless whip scorpion, featured in these photos belong to Martin Hauser, a dipterist with the California Department of Food and Agriculture in Sacramento who I had the pleasure to spend some time with last month. Like me, Martin is a fan of invertebrates as pets, but unlike me he has strayed into unusual taxa that I haven’t yet tried—these tailless whip scorpions being perhaps the most impressive of these odd groups. Hailing from east Africa (eastern Tanzania and Kenya north to Ethiopia and Somalia), this species has gained some popularity in recent years among hobbyists due to their adaptability to culture, relatively docile nature, and—of course—their terrifyingly impressive size (body length up to 30 mm according to Prendini et al. 2005, although some hobbyist forums state as much as 2 inches, and with “whip” spans many times that). In this species males and females are immediately distinguishable by the relative length of the pedipalps—highly elongate in males and with the “elbow” extending past the “knee” of the first pair of walking legs, while shorter in females and not reaching the knee. Damon diadema is the largest of the East African Damon variegatus species-group, and while there are other amblypygids in the world that are larger (e.g., Acanthophrynus from Central and South America, with up to 10″ leg-span and nearly 20″ whip-span), none are so tolerant of captive rearing as this species. There seems to be some confusion about identification of Damon spp. among hobbyists, and even Martin wasn’t sure which species his represented; however, according to Prendini et al. (2005) all of the species are easily distinguished morphologically. Damon diadema is one of only two species in the genus with two spines rather than one on the ventral surface of the pedipalp trochanter, the other being D. brachialis from southern African and unknown in captivity. In the closeup face shot of the adult male below, two spines can be seen on the right pedipalp trochanter, just visible between two of the pedipalp apical spines.

Pedipalps modified as raptorial ”claws” make these arachnids formidable predators.

I visited Martin at a good time, for not only did he have these marvelous monsters available for me to photograph, but one of the females had just recently produced a brood of young. All of them had reached 2nd instar by the time of my visit, with one or two already at 3rd instar. It was interesting to note the tendency of the juveniles to aggregate under the adult female, as if they needed/wanted her for protection. While seemingly obvious, this is actually quite interesting because most amblypygids are considered to be solitary and intolerant of conspecifics (Walsh & Rayor 2008). Damon diadema, however, is known to live in prolonged subsocial groups, apparently aided by kin discrimination abilities. I find this fascinating, considering the extraordinarily limited neural capacity of these creatures—there are only so many brain cells available for conducting the business of life without diverting any of them to the ability to recognize unrelated conspecifics, much less their own kin. It is the reason so many spiders and other predaceous invertebrates tend to live solitary lives and have evolved elaborate courtship dances to convince a potential partner that they are, in fact, a mate and not a meal.

Two ventral spines on the pedipalp trochanter distinguish Damon diadema in east Africa.

I was so impressed by these creatures that after returning home from California I set about finding a source from which I could purchase one of them—or better yet a male/female pair. Sadly, I could not find any sources—my dream of seeing these fantastically fearsome-looking fellows in an aquarium in my office would have to wait. I happened to mention this in passing during correspondence with Martin about other matters, and although it was not intended as a suggestion (or even anticipated that it could be interpreted as such), Martin immediately offered to send me a couple of his juveniles. How could I refuse?! We corresponded a little more about preparations for and timing of the shipment, and on Friday last week the package arrived. Neither of us were completely sure how well the little guys would handle a 3-day transcontinental journey, so it was with a blend of anticipation and trepidation that I opened the package. Imagine my surprise when I found them not only alive and well, but all six of them were alive and well! Well, for now they are all going under the name “Baby Damon,” but I suppose as they grow and (hopefully) develop some distinctiveness I can start giving each of them their own, unique name. It may take awhile—individuals of this species don’t mature sexually until around 12-15 months. Martin was also kind enough to include some small, temporary containers that will provide better confines until they are large enough to move into the large terrarium that I readied for them, and just as Dave has been  doing with his tarantulas, it will be fun to monitor the progress of each individual through their molts. This will continue to provide entertainment even after they reach adulthood, as amblypygids continue to molt and increase in size all of their life. Their lives could also be long ones—I’ve read of people maintaining this species for 10 years or more as adults, so it looks like I am in this for the long haul. A formidable challenge it might seem, but in addition to the invertebrates I mentioned above, I’ve also spent the past several decades being responsible for cats, dogs, rats, salamanders, and—most recently—two hominine juveniles (and females at that). Now that’s a challenge!

This 2nd instar youngster can already handle crickets its own size.

REFERENCES:

Prendini, L., P. Weygoldt & W. C. Wheeler. 2005. Systematics of the Damon variegatus group of African whip spiders (Chelicerata: Amblypygi): Evidence from behaviour, morphology and DNA. Organisms, Diversity & Evolution 5:203–236.

Walsh, R. E. & L. S. Rayor. 2008. Kin discrimination in the amblypygid, Damon diademaThe Journal of Arachnology 36:336–343.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Welcome “Baby Damon”!

”Baby Damon”—one of six 2nd instar Tanzanian giant tailless whip scorpions that now call me Papa!

Just a quick post to formally introduce “Baby Damon,” who arrived last Friday with several siblings courtesy of my friend Martin Hauser in California. Damon represents the species Damon diadema, or the Tanzanian giant tailless whip scorpion. It will take at least a year for Damon to reach maturity, and he may live as long as ten years or more, so it looks like I’m in this for the long haul! When I visited Martin in California a couple of weeks ago I had a chance to photograph Damon’s terrifyingly impressive mother and father as well—look for those pics soon!

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Poised for the bounty

Misumenops pallidus on soybean | Santa Fe Province, Argentina

By mid-April I was near the end of my 8-week stay in Argentina. One of the more enjoyable tasks during this time was to go back out and visit some of the soybean fields that I had seen earlier in the season. I enjoy watching the progression of soybeans over time—both in plant phenology and in the guilds of insects present. Defoliating caterpillars like Rachiplusia nu (oruga medidora) and Anticarsia gemmatalis (oruga de las leguminosas) abound during the late vegetative and early to mid-reproductive stages of growth, feeding day and night on the lush, green foliage. As the days grow shorter and cooler, the soybean fields slowly morph from dark green to tawny-yellow, and leaf-feeding guilds give way to seed-feeding stink bugs like Piezodorus guildinii (chinche de las leguminosas) and Nezara viridula (chinche verde).

Ever present amongst the plant-feeding insects are their natural enemies, with spiders being among the more numerous predators. This small (~10 mm length) crab spider (family Thomisidae) was seen in a soybean field in Santa Fe Province with the plants at R6 stage of growth (pods completely filled). I’m fairly certain it represents Misumenops pallidus based on its close resemblance to the spider in this photo. Piezodorus guildinii stink bugs were especially abundant, and just as the crop of newly hatched nymphs was poised to take advantage of the fat, juicy seed pods, this spider seemed poised and ready to take advantage of the fat, juicy nymphs. In fact, M. pallidus is the most abundant crab spider in soybean agroecosystems in the Humid Pampas of Argentina (Liljesthröm et al. 2002), which as a group comprise nearly half of all spiders in those systems (González et al. 2009). Perhaps one reason for this is their generalist prey selection tendencies, feeding on prey species such as R. nu and P. guildenii when they are abundant and switching to non-pest prey species (except the heavily sclerotized weevils and the large and noxious adults of N. viridula) when they are absent (González et al. 2009).

REFERENCES:

González, A., G. Liljesthröm, E. Minervino, D. Castro, S. González & A. Armendano. 2009. Predation by Misumenops pallidus (Araneae: Thomisidae) on insect pests of soybean cultures in Buenos Aires Province, Argentina. The Journal of Arachnology 37:282–286.

Liljesthröm, G., E. Minervino, D. Castro & A. González. 2002. La comunidad de arañas del cultivo de soja en la provincia de Buenos Aires, Argentina. Neotropical Entomology 31:197–209.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

“Dear Author”

On April 1st of this year, I celebrated one year as Managing Editor of The Pan-Pacific Entomologist. For many years, I thought an editorship might be something I’d like to do; however, I must confess that when this opportunity did arise, it was with some trepidation that I accepted. Could I learn the role quickly enough? What was the process for dealing with the printer (a process I knew nothing about)? Could I effectively organize the manuscript process from submission to publication, influence the Editorial Board on policy matters and maintain high journal standards? Most importantly, could I return the journal to on-schedule publishing? Despite these doubts, I couldn’t have asked for a better first opportunity than The Pan-Pacific Entomologist—rich in history, biosystematic in focus and fairly well-known without being too terribly large. I’ve gained some comfort in the role now and am, to this point, pleased with the quality of the papers published and the progress made towards returning to on-schedule publishing.

In my previous role as Subject Editor, I dealt with authors primarily from the standpoint of getting their manuscripts reviewed, communicating reviewers’ feedback back to them and ensuring that their revised manuscripts appropriately addressed that feedback. In my current role I still deal with authors, but now it is on the front end—in receiving their submissions—and the back end after the manuscript has been accepted by the Subject Editor. In theory, the latter should be the more involved process—providing guidance on final formatting (or doing it myself if necessary) to ensure that text and figure files meet requirements for printing and managing corrections/alterations to galley proofs before final publication. In practice, however, receiving submissions has proven to be the more time-intensive process. The reason for this is that manuscripts are often submitted before they are truly “ready for review.” i.e., properly prepared and relatively free of mechanical, language or formatting problems. Our reviewers willingly and freely give of their time and expertise to ensure that the papers published in our journal meet the highest scientific standards. Ideally, their efforts should be focused on the manuscript’s scientific content; however, the extent to which a manuscript contains structural and mechanical problems needlessly detracts from that focus. Even if such problems are set aside until final formatting, they still require resolution before the manuscript can truly be considered ready to publish. In my experience authors who neglect to address these areas before submission usually have trouble dealing with them after acceptance as well, increasing delays in publication.

Of the 97 manuscripts I inherited or have received since taking on the role of Managing Editor, 57 have been published or are currently in press, while 19 were rejected or withdrawn (the remaining 21 are currently in queue awaiting decision). In looking back over these submissions, I am amazed at how many I received for which it was evident that the author paid little, if any, attention to the guidelines for preparing and submitting manuscripts given in our Author Instructions. It goes without saying that compulsive review of author instructions (printed inside the back cover of each issue and posted at our website) prior to beginning and during preparation of a manuscript and then again before submission is the best way to ensure that a manuscript satisfies journal requirements, minimize the introduction and propagation of errors and avoid omitting critical manuscript components. That said, and despite guidance to the contrary, there seem to be certain areas that are consistent pitfalls for authors. If I could write a “Dear Author” letter, the following items are what I would include:

1.       Don’t try to format your manuscript to resemble the printed journal
While a few smaller journals employ a “camera-ready” process—i.e., the journal is printed off of hard copy manuscripts that are formatted for the journal’s particular style, most, including The Pan-Pacific Entomologist, prepare and format manuscripts for publication via electronic file conversion. Formatting commands in most word processing programs can interfere with commands in the conversion software used by the printer, creating layout errors that must be manually corrected. A basic text file that uses as little formatting as possible may not be the prettiest thing to look at, but it will convert with the least chance of introducing errors that need to be corrected or, worse, make it past galley reviews and into the final publication. The most common formattings applied by authors are those that also appear in the printed journal, including bolded and center justified titles and headings, italics for subheadings, tabbed or indented paragraphs, insertion of hard returns within titles to force line breaks and “even out” the width of multiple lines, and use of hanging indents to format literature citations.

2.       Create “real” tables, but don’t worry about making them “look nice”
Along with manuscript formatting, table formatting also is applied automatically by the printer during file conversion to achieve the desired layout. I’m not sure why some authors create “pseudo-tables” using tabs and spaces rather than using the table function in their word processor, but such manually created tables will not convert properly. Even authors who use the  table function are often tempted to format their tables with various lines, re-size cells or text (including manual hyphenation of long words) so that the table fits the page nicely, and even use spaces or hard returns within cells to manually align the text contained within them. Again, all this accomplishes is to introduce errors that must be corrected or that will compromise the printed article.

3.       Know your “dashes”
It is a shame that modern keyboards contain a key for only one of the three types of dashes that authors will find useful: 1) hyphens, 2) ‘en’ dashes and 3) ’em’ dashes. The result of this is a tendency by most authors to simply use a hyphen whenever any one of these three types of dashes are called for. In fact, I suspect that many authors aren’t even aware of the existence of the latter two! Hyphens, however, are properly restricted to joining words or terms (e.g., Pan-Pacific, species-group, wood-boring, 10-m diameter plot, etc.) but should not be used for connecting value ranges. These, which include page ranges in literature citations, are more properly connected with an ‘en’ dash (–). Note that an ‘en’ dash is slightly longer than a hyphen (basically the width of the letter “n” in fixed-font type) and is achieved in MS Word by holding down the ‘Alt’ key while typing “0150” on the numeric keypad (on my own keyboard I have made this much easier by using the AutoCorrect function to insert an ‘en’ dash whenever I type two consecutive hyphens). Examples of proper ‘en’ dash usage include “pages 76–99”, “1–3 June 2012” and “Figs. 3–5”. The third type of dash, or ’em’ dash (—), is not used by most authors (although I tend to use it quite commonly!); however, it is very useful for connecting unrelated clauses within a sentence (see examples earlier in this article). This is the longest of the three dashes (equal to the width of the letter “m” in fixed type font) and is achieved in MS Word by typing “Alt+0151” (or, on my keyboard by typing three consecutive hyphens). Authors who become proficient in the use of all three dashes will do much to enhance the professionalism of their manuscripts and minimize the need for manual corrections or the chance of errors in print.

4.       Literature Cited
I give this area its own paragraph, because it seems to be one of the most problematic for authors. The Pan-Pacific Entomologist, like most journals, uses a precise format for literature citations. Many authors seem to have their own personal formatting preference for literature citations, but to the extent that personal style varies from the requested journal format in the final file, reviewers, editors or typesetter will need to make manual corrections. I’ve already mentioned the most common one; use of hyphens rather than ‘en’ dashes to connect page ranges, and it is also common not to adhere precisely to specifications for spaces or punctuation (or their lack) in author name(s) and journal volume/issue/page range formatting. Another error that I take special interest in is citing “Pan-Pacific Entomologist” rather than “The Pan-Pacific Entomologist. Without doubt, however, the most frustrating habit by some authors is the practice of inserting hard returns and tabs within the citation in an effort to simulate hanging indents. While hanging indents can more properly be created using paragraph commands, all use of tabs and indenting should be avoided to begin with (see above). Simulated hanging indents with manually inserted hard returns and tabs require manual correction—again by reviewers, editors or typesetter if the author does not do it.

5.       Line spacing and numbering
I sometimes receive manuscripts in which the text is double-spaced, oftentimes with line numbering also turned on. This seems to be a holdover practice among authors accustomed to the days of hard copy manuscript review. In that process, reviewers and editors needed room between lines to mark their annotations or line numbers to easily summarize their location. Nowadays, most journals use fully electronic processes for reviewing manuscripts and communicating reviewer feedback to authors. Use of “Track Changes” for marking changes and inserting comments has obviated the need for reviewers to print out a copy of the manuscript and annotate it manually (this also makes unnecessary the use of headers/footers to indicate page number), and in fact with electronic submission procedures now commonly used (by both the journal for receiving submissions and by the printer for receiving ready-to-publish files), most manuscripts need never appear in hard copy until final printing in the journal!

6.       Don’t create “pseudosymbols”
Many authors are familiar enough with the use of symbols, e.g., male and female (♂ and ♀), degrees (°), etc. Most of these symbols are not found on normal keyboards and, thus, must be inserted using the word processor’s Insert Symbol tool. There are, however, a few symbols for which reasonable facsimiles do exist on the keyboard, usually the letter “x” rather than a multiplication (×) symbol and “+/-” rather than a plus-minus (±) symbol. Once again, the use of “pseudosymbols” requires manual correction and should be avoided.

7.       If English is not your native language, have your ms reviewed by a native English-speaking colleague
If you are reading this, then you probably already know English well enough. However, I just need to say this: The Pan-Pacific Entomologist is an English language journal, and although we welcome manuscripts by all authors from around the world, they must be written in proper English. In an effort to satisfy this requirement, it has become common for authors whose native language is not English to submit their manuscript to commercial translation services. Unfortunately, while the translators may speak English, they do not know science—and certainly not the author’s research. As a result, oftentimes the manuscripts I receive that have gone through such services are written as poorly as a manuscript that has not been reviewed for English at all. I have returned a number of submitted manuscripts strictly because the English was unsatisfactory and, in some cases, even received a terse response from author stating that their manuscript had already been proofed for English by a commercial service (even attaching the “certificate” they received from the service). Nevertheless, my advice is this: the best way to ensure that your manuscript truly satisfies the English language requirement is to have it reviewed by a native English-speaking colleague who understands your research!

p.s. it might be fun for you, the reader, to “proof” this letter and let me know of any errors in English that you find. Imagine the satisfaction of getting to tell an editor about mistakes in writing that he has made (and I can take it… really!).

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012