I’m on copy edit deadline (for Ashes, Ashes) at the moment.
This is the final pass before the text gets set, ready for printing.
My super editor is on the case. Also a copy editor and another editor.

(this is not a photo of them)
My manuscript (which I had previously done a word by word edit of my own on after editorial revisions, and prior to sending it back in to the publisher) bristles with many-colored balloons filled with sharp, astute commentary.

I can’t believe I missed so many duplicate words, sloppy phrases, and awkward descriptions.

But that’s what an editorial team (bless them) is for.
And that’s why I haven’t been blogging much this month.
Deadline= MONDAY
I also have had nothing much to say about anything including the process of writing because I am knee-deep in it.

It amazes me- ME a person who took up knitting in order to force myself to stay sitting down for longer than three minutes at a time- that I can spend the whole day poring over my computer, debating each word, and deciding the necessity of each phrase. And not just one day. Currently I am on Day #4. We’re talking cumulatively about 40 hours.

The last time I spent 40 hours doing anything I was in labor.

This is pretty much the same, just without the overtly icky bits.

And still you know I’ll miss stuff. And so will the editorial team (but maybe not this one who are truly excellent).

Like in my first book where I had the word ‘pink’ two or three times in the same paragraph. That paragraph is so excruciating to me that I skip over it when I read.

When I have taken some time away from blogging(bloggery) I begin to ask myself why I do it in the first place.
Is it because I like being part of a massive community? Is it because I think I have something (occasionally) useful to share?
Is it because I’m a lonely ego maniac?
Or is it just part of my personal need to document feelings and events in words? The same thing that drives me to write fiction?
shut-in hermit with Napoleon complex?

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