Sunday, June 29, 2003
What I am not this morning is awake, so if I ramble more than usual, you'll know the reason why.
Yesterday, I wrote 1,209 words on Chapter Five, after spending an hour reworking much of what I'd written on Friday. Then Spooky and I were up past midnight reading the page proofs for Low Red Moon. The ms. is still filled with typos, some mine, which is amazing considering how many people have read it as this point, and how many times some of us have read it. On p. 2, for example, a line that ought to read, "Your great-grandfather was a fine man," read instead, "Your great-grandfather was fine man." How many times and how many people had missed that omitted "a"? Then there are errors resulting from confusion over the copyeditor's comments and my original text, such as on p. 7, where we have "Halloween decorations Scotch-taped stuck to the window with Scotch tape." I wrote it one way, the copyeditor tried to rewrite it (Heaven protect us from copyeditors with aspirations to writerhood), and the production editors seem to have become confused. Ah, and just for shits and giggles, on p. 46, "ping-pong" is capitalized (Ping-Pong), as it's a frelling trademark. Neil Gaiman wrote something great in his blogger once about the paper tiger of trademark law and how authors and editors should ignore the lawyers and corporations who would have us do idiotic things to our books in the name of Economic Propriety, like capitalize Realtor. I wish I knew where that entry was. I'd link to it. Anyway, we made it through the prologue and chapters One and Two, and then I was too pooped to proof any further.
I'm missing all the Pride fesitivities here in Atlanta, because of the ill-timed arrival of these page proofs. Something always comes along to keep me away from Pride. It's fate. I haven't been to a GLTB Pride function since June 1993. Fortunately, 500,000 queers are expected to attend the events here in Atlanta this weekend, so I figure they can probably get along without me. And if you didn't know I was queer, well, now you do.
Ah, there's Spooky returning with breakfast. My stomach will be happy soon.
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