I started acting when I was four years old and by the time I was five, directors had nicknamed me “One Take Jake” because I tended to be well-prepared and didn’t usually need more than one take. I’ve always prided myself on my ability to get in there and get it done. Get the shot. Nail it the first time.
But this means I give myself very little wiggle room when it comes to making mistakes.
I could not be more thrilled that my book is being published, and the day it went to print was overwhelming/exciting/terrifying. Then, a few days later, I started recording the audio book. In recording the audiobook and reading each one of my words out loud – I came face to face with my demons.
I found typos.
I had read through the final version of my book at least four times, but some typos got through. My husband read it, but some typos got through. My publisher’s editor and proofreader read it, but some typos got through.
How have I dealt with this discovery of typos?
I decided I didn’t want to publish my book anymore.
I decided I didn’t deserve to call myself a writer.
I decided that the years of hard work that I put into this were worthless because the book is completely ruined.
I’ve been essentially having a temper tantrum, like a toddler who dropped her ice cream cone. I’m frustrated that I didn’t catch these typos and I’m worried that readers will think I’m dumb. I want to run and hide in shame. But there is nothing I can do about these typos – the book is printed. If we do another printing, we can fix them, but there is simply nothing else to be done about it.
That’s the thing about life. We can’t always go back and fix our mistakes. Sometimes we just have to surrender to whatever it is, even if that means accepting that we are disappointed. But being disappointed is not going to kill us.
The Serenity Prayer might be cliché at this point, but it is so very valid. I just make a slight edit to it:
God grant me the serenity to accept the [typos] I cannot change; the courage to change the [typos] I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.
I have a hard time accepting the perfectionist label for myself because I don’t feel the need to be perfect all the time. I don’t care about my hair or makeup or clothes, I don’t care if my house looks like the Pottery Barn catalogue or if I have whatever thing is the cool thing. But I do care about my work. It’s the thing that I feel most vulnerable about. It is an expression of my soul, and apparently, I want it to seem perfect.
Brené Brown talks a lot about perfectionism. It is essentially the idea that if you are perfect and have everything under control all the time, that you will escape criticism, blame and ridicule. It’s a shield that we carry around, thinking that it will protect us. But all that shield does is weigh us down and keep us from really being seen. It doesn’t protect us from suffering at all, it just masks our authentic selves. It’s different from healthy striving, which is internally focused – perfectionism is driven by the fear of what other people will think.
It’s pretty clear which of these I’m dealing with.
I have caused myself a massive amount of suffering over these damn typos. My perfectionism is causing pain, not protecting me from it. And when I look around me, there is not a single person in my life that I love because they are “perfect.” There is no one I respect more because they seem to do everything right. If anything, the people I love and respect are the ones that screw up and laugh it off, the ones who do things in a way that works for them, regardless of what anyone else thinks.
So, of course, I’m still going to publish the book. It just has some mistakes in it. I tried my best, but I’m not perfect. I’m not One Take Jake anymore. I’m just me. I’m messy and I’m whatever is the opposite of a Grammar Nazi (a bunny rabbit who takes creative license?) and I don’t write perfect, typo-free sentences. I write sentences that are full of life and passion and sometimes an extra word gets thrown in with all that excitement, or I forget to add an article. And although I do know the difference between chose and choose – that one got by me, too.
I hope you enjoy the book, anyway. Because typos and all – it’s just me.
If you want to know more about Brené Brown’s work, check out The Gifts of Imperfection. I reread it in two days during my Typo
Breakdown Spiritual Awakening.