Writer Wednesday—Typos versus Errors


A typo is when you hit the wrong key—hence the word “typo,” short for “typographical error.” It could even be because you—one time—typed the wrong word in a manuscript, such as “to” for “too.” It happens.

When it comes to social media, though, I expect the writer to make that correction as soon as possible. It’s a little different than going through an entire manuscript; sometimes those just don’t appear. And I mean one time, not continuously.

See, if you consistently use the wrong word, to me that means you don’t know the CORRECT word. As a writer, you should. It’s part of your trade, your art, whatever you want to call it. Just like a carpenter would be expected to know how to use a hammer and saw—you, the writer, should know how to use words.

Don’t say, “Excuse the typos.” Have some pride. FIX them.

Some authors swear they don’t “see” errors when they read; they’re caught up in the story. I have to say, I’ve NEVER been so caught up that I miss repeat mistakes. And it detracts from my experience as the reader—any distraction from the story will, in my opinion, and should, lower the rating given to a book.

Maybe it’s word usage; maybe it’s misspellings. Maybe a hyphen instead of an em dash. Maybe a word repeated not only throughout the book, but used in sentences that are in close proximity. That’s what editors are for—to catch all this stuff.

But the author must take responsibility too, first and foremost. After all, in a professionally published book, the editor isn’t listed by name. It’s the author’s book.

 

 

 

Prep Monday—The Waiting Game


We made some decisions this past weekend:

First, there are way too many properties for sale to possibly look at them all.

Second, we could certainly make the barn property work.

And third, with so much work to do, regardless of the property we choose, we really need to get moving on it. And, well, fourth, it can be difficult to search in the winter!

Since the first of September, we’ve driven to/walked over/looked at approximately 30 acreages listed for sale. That’s a lot of driving—oh, a couple thousand miles—and hiking (did not measure that!). I really did think it would be easier and quicker to find what we’re looking for, but I do have a tendency to say, “Gee, what’s over that NEXT hill?” So it’s time to stop.

The barn property is in a good location, decent-looking properties/neighbors in the area, good road in, one-third pasture, and 42 acres with a creek. I’m not going to count that barn, because, even being over 50 years old, the thing’s a hazard. It does have electric, though.

The point is that we can make it work; I can picture it, all the details. And I want to get started.

Which brings me to the third point: all the stuff to be done. Driveway, well, outhouse/septic, pond, fencing, outbuildings, cabin. This is going to take a while, especially since we’re looking mostly at weekends and over the summer—we do still have a kid in school, even though work, for us, is pretty flexible. So I want to get going on this HUGE project!

Which brings me back to winter:

I’m not a fan of driving after dark—and if you saw some of these roads, you’d totally get it—so we’ve got only about 10 hours of daylight, and that includes driving time; that limits the number of places we can check out in any given day. Plus, precipitation is unpredictable, so there’s that. On the other hand, you can definitely see the lay of the land when the trees are bare . . . but there’s mud, snow, ice, etc. And I’m pretty sure AAA has never been to a lot of these places!

So we made a tentative, verbal offer of $1K per acre. That’s slightly above the average listing price for property in that area, but we’ve been told the owner had had a similar offer and declined. Personally, I think she’s asking too much, but we have a little wiggle room. A little.

Why verbal? Well, why do all the paperwork, etc., if the owner is going to say no? Efficient, yes?

And now we wait. We can go up a bit, but we can also move on and continue to look. We do have a few backup properties, and there are always more . . . over that next hill.