At this point in my teaching career, I'm not sure I can see the typos for the trees. I may actually think that eats, shoots, and leaves is eats shoots and leaves. I see semi-colons where there should be commas and periods on every side of a citation. No one wants to put the words in the right order or even knows what the order is. I read between 30-120 pieces of student work a week, and the weird starts to sound like haiku:
Like a balloon explode suddenly, my heart was something empty.
Exactly, except substitute my brain for heart. I don't know what is right any more. I'm reading now like a parched person, hoping for sentences that make sense, sentences that turn into paragraphs with transitions. Paragraphs that turn into papers that use correct English, but so rarely does this happen that I'm okay with just about anything that is spell checked.
Last year, I noticed that in my own writing, I was using the homonym of the word that I was trying to pull from the ether. Write became right. Peel was peal; know was no. These typos are bad as a good spell check does not notice them, though sometimes a grammar check will. I couldn't stop myself from using rest instead of wrest, so I gave the habit to one of my characters. She and I decided that it must be some brain malfunction, and my typos became her character. By the end of the story, she'd worked out her homonym issue, and so have I,mostly. I'm not sure what it meant, but typos became a syndrome I passed (not past) through.
I no when I'm write.
Maybe we are all passing through the age of writing to the age of something else. Soon, the computer chips in our head, we will be able to blog as we think. Essays will be passed brain to brain. Books will be little weird sideshows we "think" before bedtime. All this punctuation worry will go away, and our hearts will be something full, no explosions necessary.
Causes Jessica Inclán Supports
Women for Women International Goodwill Industries Lindsey Wildlife Museum Freecycle.org