I’m a perfectionist, but not a proofreader. It doesn’t make sense, does it? Well, it’s true—just ask my editor. I have no problem catching misspellings—they’re usually underlined in red by my helpful word program. I can find wrong words, grammar errors, poor sentence structure. What I can’t find are missing words—particularly the small ones. When I proofread, my brain fills in the blanks, so that makes it difficult to find the blanks. I try to read aloud, backwards, forwards, etc., but unless I make a Herculean effort to concentrate, I miss missing words.

Recently I was invited to take part in an author’s focus group. I was so excited that I fired back an immediate response to the email invitation. And then, after pushing send, I reread what I’d written... “I writing to accept your invitation...” Just think how much more professional (and author-like) I would have appeared had I included the word “am”. It boggles the mind.

Unfortunately, this problem is genetic. I don’t know that I got it from my parents, but I know I passed it along to my daughter. My daughter is an engineer. She keeps her shoes in their original boxes alphabetized by brand, cross referenced by color. Because of her, our catalogs have been alphabetized since she was eight. (I have continued the tradition, finding it very handy when I’m looking for something in particular.) Details are her business and she loves dealing with detail. Unfortunately her brain also fills in the blanks when it comes to small words. (Thank goodness this doesn’t apply to small numbers, or she never would have made it through her course of study.)

When she applied to engineering graduate schools, she went for the biggies—Cornell, Stanford, Berkeley. She wrote her biographical essay, debated over word choice and sentence structure. She asked me to proofread (big mistake). I helped her smooth out a few rough spots. We both read the essay through several times, and then she attached it to her online applications and pushed send. That evening we had her father read the essay, of which we were so proud. “You’d better put the word ‘am’ in this second sentence,” he said casually, as if this were an option. My daughter’s essays went out with the following sentence—“I one of top engineering students in my class.” It was true, but think how much more professional (and engineer-like) she would have appeared had she used the “am”. Again, that mind boggling effect.

My daughter was philosophical. “I’m not going to get into grad school because of the word ‘am’,” she said matter-of-factly, and then started looking for jobs that required a bachelor’s degree. She was wrong. I’m happy to say she graduated from Berkeley with her masters in Structural Engineering this past May. Her theory? The person who read her essay also had a brain that filled in the blanks. Either that or he said to himself, “You top student? Once I top student, too!”

So, have you had any similar experiences? You know, the kind where you thought you had attended to every detail and then, when it’s too late—or if you’re lucky, not quite too late—discovered you’d forgotten something rather basic?

(Since I’m sending this to Sam to post for me, I’m assuming she’ll proofread it and add in all the missing “am’s.” Right, Sam?)