• Sure, we all make mistakes.

    Date: 2010.05.27 | Category: Whoops, Work | Tags:

    And most people are kind enough to overlook them, or at least wait and make fun of you when you’re not there to feel the burning shame of your mess up. (That is, of course, unless they are your family or spouse who love to relish in you being wrong).

    The bad part about working in the publishing industry though is that there are thousands and thousands of people who look at your work, waiting for a mistake.

    It’s like a game show. Who can be the first to call with the typo, or, “well actually you got it wrong…” Which is why I dread the day the publication comes out. I jump when the phone rings, I cringe when an email comes through. Because the feedback is coming; it always does.

    And in the following days handwritten letters and sometimes even anonymous faxes find their way to my desk.

    Now I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get a kick out of some of them. Because, oh I do. I love reading very passionate and sometimes embittered and misguided responses. And, in a way, it shows me they care.

    But this last time, I admit it, I did make a kind of big mistake, one that slipped through the careful eyes of four proofreaders.

    I listed a prominent and important local city leader as DECEASED. And not only did I list him as dead, but I wrote that something was done in his honor because he was dead.

    You see…what had happened was… I misread the press release. The press release said the person who was actually deceased was a good friend and associate of the person I listed as dead. Follow that?

    So today I get a phone call from said not-dead person’s secretary who is very confused and wanted to make sure we knew he is “very much alive.” I returned the call, inwardly slapping myself, preparing to gravel. Thankfully though, she was very nice about the whole thing and said they all had a good laugh over it, especially when not-dead man’s friend called and asked if he could have his job because he would no longer need it, being dead and all.

    Note to self: Even when deadlines are tight, take the time to double check facts.

    Not to be outdone, shortly after I got that phone call, I realized I left leftover pad thai from lunch my car, baking in the 95-degree Louisiana sun. The same car that finally doesn’t smell like a souring latte anymore.  I just pray that smell clears out before Mark gets a chance to make fun of me for that mistake