I’ll never forget the time I read a heartfelt blog post by a friend of mine and told him, “That was an awesome post! Oh, just FYI, you’ve got a spelling error [here] and a punctuation error [here],” only for him to reply, “That’s your response? I bleed my soul out onto the page, and you point out these little mistakes??”
As if I was telling him about the errors to hurt his feelings. Or, rather, that the errors didn’t matter because of his feelings. When in fact I was telling him about the errors because to someone like me, little errors like that are jarring and remove you from being immersed in the experience of reading. Doesn’t matter if it happens in a blog post or a Tom Clancy novel — a typo is a speedbump that interrupts the experience. And what I wanted was for any readers who came after me to not lose that experience of immersion. I wanted to *help* him get his message across, and those typos were clearly in the way.
Ironically, his blog was about his journey of maturing as a human being. I wonder if he’s learned since then that putting in the effort to do things correctly is a sign of maturity, as is accepting constructive criticism.