– write 2k on REDEEMER : 2100 words – revise (or proof) 50 pages on one of 3 different projects 130 pages : proofed – clean a room (thanksgiving is coming) : total failure on this today So I’m doing page proofs on MAGIC & MANNERS, which is a very, very clean manuscript. I keep thinking I must be missing stuff, but I’m not. There’s just not much to catch. The copy editor, Richard Shealy at SFF Copy Editing, is terrific (and for hire :)). So that’s a great thing.…
Did I actually post about my wibbling over whether I was going to photocopy the copy edited manuscript of THE PRETENDER’S CROWN? I ended up not doing it, because it was going to cost €92, which is about $116, and frankly that’s a third the cost of a document scanner and I simply do not have a hundred euro to drop on *photocopies*. You can all see where this is going. The manuscript, which was supposed to be in New York by Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest, has not…
The copy edits are well and truly finished, although I need to see if I can find the Much Larger Version of the map to include, and I need to print off the couple extra pages of Stuff that I’ve edited or added. Then it’ll go in the mail first thing tomorrow. I need to go over the letters for the second issue of Chance. And I need to finish writing the Morrigan short story. And I need to call the bank to find out why they turned down my…
I’m down to the last 130 pages or so of copy edits. I’m also in the stage that I suspect most writers find themselves at when they’re going over a manuscript for the zillionth time: there are moments when I think, God, this is really good!, and others when I think, Oh, God, what was I thinking, this is awful. I’ve just finished going over one of the most climactic scenes in the book, and I think it really works (so, apparently, did my agent, who said she almost stopped…
I suspect, but I do not know for certain, that other writers do the same thing I do when working on copy edits, which is to say, they talk back at the copy editor. “How *dare* you remove my italics,” I say (out loud). (This is an important moment for this character. It *requires* italics.) “No,” I say out loud, “I don’t *want* an em-dash there.” (God knows if I did I’d have put one in. I am not afraid of em-dashes. Or semi-colons. Or colons. Or serial commas.) And…