Monday, July 07, 2003
The last two days have been an utter editing hell. This is my brain on proofreading. It sizzles, just like eggs in a skillet, just like in those damned, cheesy anti-drug commercials. Yesterday, Kathryn and Jennifer and I finished with chapters Thirteen and Fourteen and the epilogue of Low Red Moon. But then I had two pages of notes to deal with — changes that had to be made, searches for excessively-used words, continuity stuff, that sort of thing. So we were at it until after 10 p.m., when the two Red Bulls I'd had to keep me going finally shut me down. I crawled off to soak my brain in four hours of Tomb Raider.
This morning, Kathryn and I were at it again, checking all my corrections, compiling a list of all the pages with changes for the production editor, cross-referencing the Roc proofs and the Subterranean Press proofs and the CEM. I had to write a long letter to my editor at Penguin, explaining this and that, and a new biography for this edition ("Caitlin R. Kiernan has quit writing to become a freelance psychic investigator. Fuck off, all of you."). Now the thing still has to be photocopied, so I can retain a copy of the first pass to check against the second pass. That means it probably won't go into the post until tomorrow, which means it will be a day or so late getting back to Penguin. Jennifer called this afternoon to let them know. The three of us have worked on this thing for ten days, and I still wasn't able to mail it today. And, I absoltutely frelling guarantee you that it's still full of minor errors. Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle.
I'm going to take a bath.
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