Sunday, April 1, 2012


This morning I wrote, an event which by and large determines my reply to the question "how was your weekend" posed by my co-workers. I wrote, I will say, so it went alright.

And normally I don't tend to this site at the same time, or on the same day, or in the same mindset that I tend to whatever novel, but this weekend has been one of firsts, so why not keep the trend running?

The book comes out in six days, and I've had the final file in my inbox for over a week now. After the errata phase I was so worn out that I just wanted to distance myself, but curiosity, as always, reconstituted me. I was curious, you see, because the last time I had gone through the editing phase things were left out. And if you've been keeping up, you know that one of the main goals this time was to prevent that from happening again. So I doubled my effort, then I tripled it.

But you know what they say about it taking two to tango. And this reason, by the by, is why there are so many publishing houses. There are so many authors who felt like their weren't truly being heard by their editors, by their publishers that they struck out on their own. "This," they said, "is how it should be done." They were wrong, of course, because it's a trend that continues to this day. For me, I can say now, having looked at the file, that on one particular page, in one particular case, I did not make myself clear enough. The sentence in question (which I won't be specific about it; if you know my writing, it will smack you in the face) will be yet another cringing moment in my career, one I will hear about at length and never be able to explain away as it not being my fault.

But, I've decided not to be too upset about it. After all, I had to have written something that was so confusing that the only way the editor could understand it, to cause it to make sense to her, was to change it. Never mind that it changes the entire meaning of the entire passage. It's very possible that I could have done something other than try to force something which they weren't going to accept. My old boss would call this a "bought lesson," and as such I'll be paying for this for some time.

I wonder if something error-less will ever come out of me, or if everything I ever do will be less than it could be. On the one hand, I guess that's somewhat of a grim thought. On the other, it could be that perfection is simply the pursuit.

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