One of the banes of a writer’s life are typos.
Some of my typos are a result of bad habits, like when I write back in forth. For some reason, I always type it out that way, instead of back and forth.
Some typos are homophones, words that sound similar, but don’t mean the same thing, such as brake and break.
There are the lazy grammatical ones: mixing it’s/its, your/you’re, and they’re/their/there.
And, then there’s my tendency to misspell names, but you can read another blog post about this one because it’s something I do in my personal and professional life.
Others, though, make me chuckle. More often than not, they drastically change the intent of the sentence.
For example, in A Conflicted Woman, Sarah ordered crap alfredo, instead of crab alfredo. This typo slipped by several editors and many ARC readers, and I think the reason was, during the dinner, Sarah is freaking out about her mom’s new boyfriend, so when she orders the crap alfredo, I think many people thought I did that intentionally to fit Sarah’s mood. I didn’t, but this type of typo does give me some leeway to say, “Oh, I totally meant it that way.”
Others aren’t so easy to explain. In Marionette, I wrote free feels instead of feel free. Simply switching the word order and adding an s made the statement sexually provocative when that wasn’t my purpose at all.
Most recently, in The Date, I tapped out Lady in the Tramp, referring to the Disney movie. The actual title is Lady and the Tramp. When an ARC reader pointed it out to me, I dissolved into a fit of giggles because that simple tweak of and to in really transformed the innocent Disney movie into an X-rated flick.
While I hate typos, I know they’re normal for writers, and it takes a team of editors and readers to zap as many as possible. When they’re pointed out to me, I rather laugh over them; otherwise, I’d probably loose my mind. (Yes, I did that one on purpose.)