I hadn’t intended to share “Secrets,” the story I published earlier this month. When I read the printed version, I discovered errors: “compliment” for “complement”; “shinning” for “shining.” The punctuation was flawed with double periods in several places. Worse, two sentences repeated words that disturbed the syntax.
After I read what I’d written, I felt like a mother whose child had been born dead. Sadly, the fault is mine. If I had edited carefully, I could have saved my damaged creation. Unfortunately, I fell into the writer’s trap of loving my words too much.
Criticism, scrutiny and steely discipline are a writer’s best friends.
Why the publisher didn’t edit the errors escapes me. It wasn’t his responsibility, but it was his publication and like a passerby who sees an old woman fall, he could have helped. Instead, he invited me to submit other stories saying: Your writing is expressive, mature, and multi-layered, and it was my particular pleasure to bring it to readers. Should I laugh or cry at his comment?
A friend sent me an email after reading “Secrets.” She wrote to say the story was so engrossing, the typos went right by without bothering me, as they usually would. She was honest about the errors so I hope she was honest about her assessment.
Like any parent, despite the flaws, I still love my child. That’s why I’ve changed my mind about sharing the story. If the publisher and my friend enjoyed it, others might. And it’s free. I offer the link here. Judge it for yourself. As for me, I am sadder and wiser.