What is it about our own work that makes it so hard to see problems?
Granted, it's not always the case. I'll often write a sentence and know immediately that I hate it. If I can't figure out a better way to word it at that moment, I'll let it stand, knowing I'll be able to hash out something better when I return.
Sometimes I read others' work and wonder, "How could they not spot that doozy?" Yet I'm sure I overlook similar problems in my own work.
Nothing brings you down to earth like having one of your fifteen-year-old students spot a typo for you.
The scientific part of me wonders exactly what's behind these authorial blinders. In matters of typos and missing words, I'm sure our familiarity with the material causes us to fill in the gaps. What about those big gaps in logic, though? Or glaring inconsistencies?
How do we miss those? And how can we help ourselves by taking those blinders off?