I wrote a blog post on Saturday, which my mother proof read for me and immediately spotted three spelling mistakes. Oops.
I was never a good speller in my childhood. I read voraciously, but spelling never really clicked with me for a long time. But, after copious torture sessions in the shape of ‘Spelling Help’ books, copying passages from books and learning my there/their/they’res, I did eventually get it.
It’s always the first thing to go when I’m tired, though. If I’ve been up late working on a story, my proofreading the next day usually highlights every rookie apostrophe error in the book and a fair few spelling mistakes I’d never have made before dinner.
I guess it’s because it doesn’t come naturally. When I have to think a bit harder, slowed down by need for sleep, I revert to form. All those things that I’ve drilled into my head over the years start to slip out of reach and the eyes I’ve trained to spot spelling and grammar errors start to miss things.
Of course, its good that I can spot the mistakes in the morning. I’d rather make them and fix them than not know they were mistakes in the first place. After all, nothing holds back writing more than not knowing which is the right ‘there’.
