…or how could you read it over ten times and still miss a trypo?
Today I had a call from a fan and fellow writer eager to enroll in one of my workshops to be held June 14 and June 21, at Dairy Hollow Writers Colony In Eureka Springs and at Ozark Folkways south of my hometown of Winslow, consecutively. She called because there was a typo in the telephone number of the newsletter announcing the workshops. What’s worse, I originally saw the typo on the flyer sent to me from the writers colony, then turned right around and copied and pasted that part of the flyer to my newsletter without correcting the number.
Oh, sure, I know that was stupid. I’d read the entire thing two or three times before I cut and pasted her contact information, but zap, there it went and out went the newsletter to over 300 recipients. Okay, so a zero where the dash in the phone number belongs should be easy for most to solve. But there must have been more to it, because my friend wasn’t able to reach Dairy Hollow by making that change.
Ever do anything like that? Or are you all perfect? Sorry, couldn’t resist that. Once I sent out flyers, printed more and handed them out, and not a single one had the date of the workshop on it. See, what I do is tell everyone it’s cause I’m getting old and forgetful. In reality, that’s
not true, and I’m letting you in on a secret. I’m scatter-brained. Always have been. Yes, it’s time I admitted it. Lately I’ve latched on to the buzz word multi-tasking as an excuse.
While writing this blog of shameful admission, I’m thinking of a scene in a book I’m working on, wondering when I’m going to get the edits back on one at Wild Rose Press, and going over ideas for the cover of another book we’re in the midst of getting out through a new publisher. Oh, and there are those final edits I sent back on … © Alin Pohoata | Dreamstime Stock Photos
never mind. So I’m liable to write something really stupid here. In fact this entire blog may be a bit off kilter. Aren’t they all?
On top of that, I’m hearing an off and on beep like one of those machines backing up. I live in the country, deep in the country, so it has to be my imagination. A signal that I should get back to work on something. Let’s see…that draft for the new mystery has lain around for a while.