That’s What Erasers are For

Dear <<First Name>>,

Recently I became a Historical Society member. I was a bit baffled when I finally received my membership materials, because whoever did the data entry on their end made not one, not two, but three mistakes in my address. I’m actually shocked it ended up in my mailbox.

I wonder if I’m ticked off about this because I did data entry all through college, and I think there’s no excuse for second-guessing the way I specifically filled out my membership form, especially for omitting my apartment number.

And yet, it’s helpful to cool my jets and realize that everyone makes mistakes. One luxury I have as an author is that hopefully my critique team and editors will catch my major flubs before they launch into the world and leave me looking ignorant and lazy.

What’s interesting about the prequel I’m currently working on is that Mr. Perfect has now sauntered into the narrative, and I keep forgetting certain important revelations he had about his own abilities in book 5, Camp Hell. Either I forget about the traits entirely, or I remember they’re there, but I forget Jacob hasn’t quite figured them out himself yet. Luckily I didn’t lose much work to this yet. It was more along the lines of, “Oh hell, everything I wrote yesterday is going to get dumped…unless I resolve it this other way….” And the other way turned out much better anyhow. PHEW, bullet dodged.

Hopefully my early readers will pick out whatever buckshot I didn’t manage to duck!

As much as I try, I can’t live up to “Mr. Perfect” standards.

Readers of The Starving Years might remember a part in which Randy and Nelson are trying to out-smartypants each other by talking about supply and demand, wartime and shortages. (And it allowed me to sneak in some worldbuilding.) Randy spouted off something about the need for silk parachutes in WWII giving rise to the practice of women drawing seams down the backs of their legs to simulate stockings.

Except I didn’t type “stockings.” What I typed was “pantyhose.”

Who knows how many people either glossed right over this incorrect factoid, or just presumed Randy wasn’t concerned with accuracy.

The funny part of this story is the way I discovered the mistake. After I did a free promotion, I was checking on Amazon to see which parts of the story readers had highlighted to see what resonated, and it offered to show me their notes. Being curious, I said, “Sure!” And discovered someone’s note to themselves that said pantyhose hadn’t been invented until 1959.

I’m glad I stumbled across it! I was able to correct the word before we went into audio production.

Gomez Pugh will be bringing the Starving Years story to life later this summer. And boy oh boy, his Javier is to die for! I’m also hoping to roll out my Crash prequel and a PsyCop shorts anthology before GRL. And then collapse into a spent heap!

Love,

Jordan