Here’s a delightful tale about my adventures in taxation last year. It’s about 450 words and a quick read. As with any post I write about typos, I’m sure there’s at least one.
I love Turbo Tax. Our taxes are relatively simple and don’t require the services of an expert. Some might say these are famous last words, and last tax season, they nearly were.
After a relatively brief and painless session at the computer, our taxes were done. If you’re familiar with Turbo Tax, it helpfully displays the amount you owe the Feds and State at the top of the screen. If you’re lucky, the number is green and you get a refund! In the spot for State, however, there was a red number. A BIG red number, one that was far larger than it should have been.
Comparing my results to the previous year, there was a $3,000 discrepancy. And it wasn’t in our favor.
I went back through every single page of my new returns. And again. And again. And again.
The numbers were right. As God as my witness, they were right!
This post is approximately 600 words, some of which are likely misspelled because that’s what happens when writers talk about typos.
Holy lexicon, do I hate misspellings. When it comes to my own writing, I’m a firm believer in self-flagellation. And I know there’s a special place in dictionary purgatory for self-proclaimed grammar perfectionists and those people who allow typos into published books.
Regardless of how much you’ve typed, or how fast you do it, typos are a way of life. When it comes to typing, I’m a cheetah with 30 years’ experience: bursts of speed followed by periods of rest and reflection. If I’m particularly inspired, I probably reach 120 wpm.
This post is approximately 450 words. Yes, the title was deliberate.
I love writing, which means I’ve spent a considerable portion of my life doing it. I’ve written thousands of pages and reviewed thousands more. If you’re like me, you’ve developed proofreading, editing, and copyediting skills. We understand that spellcheck isn’t foolproof. Long story short (too late!), we have the tools at our disposal to deliver pristine prose.
And yet, the typos return like locusts, plaguing our writing on a biblical scale.
Case in point, I recently had a friend review two chapters of my manuscript. Oh man, were these some challenging ones to write. When your protagonist is following a trail of destruction, it’s tough to keep every new discovery fresh. I was also unhappy with the amount of exposition, though I eventually found ways to make those passages feel natural. I also introduced the monster and tested the mettle of our hero. And lastly, I had finally reached the portion of the book where I’d removed one of my important secondary characters, and I needed to make additional hard decisions about his contributions to the story. These chapters hurt my writing brain. Continue reading
I’m currently researching literary agents, somewhat dreading the query emails I’ll need to write because of the perfection they require. Yes, yes, I know agents are people, too. But the query needs to be perfect because I’m trying to sell these people my baby.
Wait…that came our wrong.
Anyways, here is how my mind exaggerates my queries into weirdly desperate cries for help. Something like this:
To Whom It May Concern:
Thank you for taking the time to read this query. I found your listing while searching for an agent to represent my fantasy novel, The Princess and the To-Be-Named Important Event.
This is going to be painful. My apologies in advance. This submission represents my first attempt to gain agent representation, as well as my first attempt to become a published author. I have no idea how to write a query email. I’ve written thousands of business letters and scores of cover letters, so you can expect this email to be well-written and typo-free. But when it comes to begging for your service, I’m lost. Continue reading