Typos (are not) Train Wrecks

Photo by Mr Cup / Fabien Barral on Unsplash

My writing process is a little strange. I bang out whatever's in my head/heart at a given moment, dust it up a bit and hit "publish." The result is usually about 3/4 the way it eventually winds up. The rest is edited after the fact. Often by way of Hubby shouting from the other room, you misspelled goober (or whatever). Depending on when you, the reader, engage with the post, you'll find slightly different versions. Now, I know that the proper way is to get the words just right, the spelling correct, the sentences structured in a way that makes sense, all before putting it forth. But it just doesn't work that way for me. Since when have I claimed to be proper, anyway? I've tried to do it correctly - checking every jot and tittle as it were. Tried to edit myself as I go, word by word, character by character. But I find it paralyzing. Self-doubt takes over and I question every little thing to the point where I feel ill-equipped to say anything at all. This "let-er-rip" method is certainly unorthodox but I've found it's the only way to overcome the minutiae and concentrate on the gist. Believe me, I'd rather put out perfect prose every time but I've spent a lot of years thinking too much and writing too little. I have become a firm adherent to the literary school of "It is what it is."

It's not just the writing, I'm trying to live my life that way, too. Get it the best I can and fling it out there. Depend on my Dearest and Best to gently offer corrections. Change as-soon-as and as-often-as the Editors' suggestions come. Breathe out the sin, breathe in the forgiveness. Limit the guessing to first and maybe second - but no more than that. There's just not enough time to carry on with chasing anything else. Good enough can be exquisite. And the best epiphanies often come in the ordinary. In the immortal words of that great theologian, June Carter Cash, time's a wastin'. Let's get together and do this thing. Selah.