A Brief Apology

There were three rather obvious mistakes in the newsletter I sent out this morning. Each was a product of last-minute changes. (e.g. “needs to essays a month” initially read “needs to read two essays a month.” In a push for concision, I changed it at the last second and removed the wrong part of the sentence.) My father has always been a steadfast grammarian—in practice if not in trade. In spite of his efforts, I’ve always been a sloppy first drafter, which has given me a deep appreciation for the work of editing. I’ve trained myself to clean things up in subsequent drafts, but quick changes made at the last second—also known as my refusal to put the pen down—are where my errors typically arise. 

One of the unfortunate byproducts of the newsletter boom is that inboxes have started to feel a bit bloated, making the space one takes up in them that much more precious. In spite of my lack of self-promotion, I have gained a modest audience here—something I am incredibly grateful for. My ongoing fear is that typos and other mistakes give off an air of carelessness, of disregard. It is, in fact, the opposite. Each time I go back to make small changes, I am trying to make something better. The irony, of course, is that in some instances I make things jagged, harder to read. 

It’s possible that this note is just for me—to quiet some demon in my head. But I wanted to say explicitly that I appreciate both the space I take up in your inboxes and the time it takes to read/look at what I put out here. I apologize if I ever make it seem otherwise.

Until next time,

xz