It’s very simple: errors in writing, of any kind, horrify me. If I wrote a book, and it were published, some would likely slip through, such as the one in the image above. If a book with my name on the cover had been published, and I then discovered an error, I would end up trying to get corrected copies to every buyer of the first edition, eating all profits, and then some. I also just don’t need that type of stress.
Please do not misunderstand: I love books.
Therefore, I do two other things, in lieu of actually writing a book (which has been suggested, to me, more than once). First, I read other peoples’ books. I seek higher-quality books to avoid those irritating typos, for they actually cause me pain when I see them. Even so, some slip through — ouch! — but at least the mistakes aren’t mine. I am almost immune to conventional causes of embarrassment, but this isn’t a conventional cause, and I certainly have no immunity to it.
The other thing I do is to blog, which is, of course, another form of writing. It’s a perfect forum for someone with this writing-quirk — because, when I discover a mistake in my writing, even months or years later, I can edit it away in seconds. This is why, for me, blogging > writing books. However, I am grateful that there are good writers for whom the inequality symbol points in the other direction.
I’ve been asked, more than once, if I’ve ever considered writing a book. The answer: writing a book, as compared to maintaining a blog, would drive me crazy. The reason is simple: every book I’ve every read has at least one typo in it — somewhere. If I wrote a book, got it published, and then found writing mistakes in it, I’d be mortified. With a blog, on the other hand, I can edit mistakes away, months, or even years, after making them.
There aren’t many things that embarrass me, but making errors in writing is definitely one of them. If others can see the errors, then having committed the “sin” of writing incorrectly feels like being caught naked in public — eeeeek!