After blogging about how luluing your book is an invitation for grammar and spelling errors, I managed to post an entry with two glaring spelling mistakes. Let that be a lesson.
Poor proof-reading skills are something that have plagued me all my life, which is strange considering both my vocation and avocation demand I communicate effectively and accurately in writing. It hasn't always been easy.
As a young man, my writing habit led to a number of unfortunate forays into self-produced pamphlets and magazines, all of them comically replete with errors.
Then I started a printing service as a side business to help fund my deepening writing addiction. Even now I can't explain what caused me to think I might be good at this. One of my biggest accounts was a local restaurant owner who asked me to produce his menu. I set all the type (and, to be fair to myself, had the customer approve it) and the next thing I knew I received an anonymous letter containing nothing but the printed menu with all of the errors (rest assured, there were many) circled in red. I closed the printing business down shortly after out of terminal embarrassment.
By this time, computers were arriving on the scene. I couldn't get one soon enough. Not only did they make it easier to correct errors, they also opened the way for spelling checkers. My first one was a separate program that had to be run after the article was complete. The program would go through all the words in the piece and print out a list--in alphabetical order--of all the words its internal dictionary did not recognize. Then it was up to me to go through the document, find the words and fix them. It cost me $50; I thought it was brilliant.
Spelling checkers have improved vastly since that time, but my proof reading ability has, sadly, not. This, coupled with the richness of the English language, has lead two awl sorts of interesting linguistical mishaps. Sentences lick tees our jest a simple of the may ham eye am cape elbow of.
The upshot is, I just know when The Book arrives in its finished form and I pick it up in excited glee, the very first page it opens to will reveal a glaring, horrific error.
And there won't be a thing I can dew abut tit.