Maybe you can. Maybe you have. And if you have you know how hard writing a book is.
Especially after "The End".
After the end, there is endless rereading by the author. Editing and proofing follows every single reread.
After you think you might throw up if you have to read the book again, you pass it off to "readers"; folks who are sick kind enough to read the book for you, red pencil in hand. These folks are usually English majors, people who have proofread or edited in a professional manner, or other authors. They have a keen eye for mistakes and aren't afraid to share them with you.
After you change all that mess, you, the author, get the joy of rereading it. Again.
It's then off to the publisher who changes the manuscript into an interior file, make it looking just like a book! The publisher then sends it back to the author to read it and make sure it's okay to go to the printers.
It never is. This time I found twenty something errors, one so glaring that I couldn't believe someone, especially me, had not seen before.
Publisher sends correction page(s) back and asks you to review again. (You know what this means.) Fortunately for me, Daughter took half and read it and I read the other half.
Of course, she found some mistakes. I sent a correction sheet. He sent corrected text back. I checked to make sure he'd corrected the mistakes, but did not read the book again.
There's some things a person just can't do.
I am in love with the book cover, both front and back. I think you'll like it, too.
If there's more mistakes in there when you read the book, well I think they reproduce when the book is closed. Diana Gabaldon said that, and I think she ought to know, being a famous author and all.
I haven't even talked about the photo shoot for the cover, or having to have my own durn picture struck. Eww.
Of course, many authors have nothing to do with the outside cover, but I'm too controlling and usually by a few pages in I know what the cover should look like.
Also, there is the fearful task of trying to make sure you thank all the folks who helped make the book what it is. I am always afraid I'll leave someone out, even though I take notes.
The next step is receiving the manuscript back from two authors who are previewing the book in order to do blurbs on the cover about how great it is. If they don't like it, I'm in a heap of trouble.
Once the publisher gets a hard copy back from the printer, guess who has to read the book again.
But this time will be different because, magically, I will hold a book in my hand that I wrote.
I'll read it, I'll pray it's as funny as I think it is, the printer will print, and I will get books weeks after that.
So, say a little prayer that a book signing will occur in mid-November.
If I'm not too tired to do one.
Presenting excuses valid reasons I've not blogged since August 18. (at least it's August of this year):
1. I had amnesia.
2. I had a severe case of apathy.
3. I broke both wrists while attempting a handstand.
4. I'm trying to get my latest novel finished so it can be published this year.
You probably guessed right: apathy.
No! Just kidding.
If you've never written a book, you probably think you write "the end" and set your pen down with a satisfied sigh.
Not even close.
If you are like me you want to be hands on for the entire process, so the next thing is the photo shoot for the cover of the book.
But also, while you are planning the shoot, you madly hand out first draft manuscripts to readers: Those wonderful folks who have a red pen in their hand and a wicked gleam in their eye. They go through the book with a fine tooth comb and mark everything that is misspelled, questionable, left out words, punctuation errors, words that should be other words, and big fat mistakes. When the manuscript is returned it looks like it's bleeding to death.
And thank God for these people. He knows I need all the help I can get.
The photo shoot for this book was last week and it was fun. A five year old, a six year old, and a creek. The children aren't old enough to be self conscious, so anything asked of them was done cheerfully as they chattered away to one another, becoming fast friends.
The only problem is finding the perfect photo - because at first glance all one million shots look perfect.
After getting all the wounded, marked up manuscripts back, I have to read them, change or disagree and put all of it into the computer so I can print out another, freshly corrected copy to read myself. And after I mark it up, I do the dreaded thing: I give the last corrected copy to Eagle Eye Hill: Daughter.
She is always the final reader to proof and edit my manuscript before it goes off to the publisher.
But the most horrifying part, the part I can scarcely mention is this:
I have to have a picture taken. Of me, myself.
Do you have any idea how much I dread this? I don't take a good picture; you can "there, there" me all you want, and insist it "probably" isn't true, but it is.
My features are too small, my cheeks are too high, the left side of my face doesn't match the right side. And then there's all those new friends we call wrinkles.
Couldn't we just put a picture of my cat up instead?
Well, my nose will be back to the grindstone tomorrow.
I'll blog when I can.
After it's all finished, I'll be pestering you to read my blog all the time again.
That's either a promise or a threat.
You decide.
Besides taking two of the cats to the vet today, I have been reading the manuscript copy in book form (on the computer) to make sure it's okay.
It's not okay.
There were a few mistakes a friend caught, at the last minute.
I realized, in looking at the name of chapters, I had goofed, and spent last night working (already in bed) as to how I was going to fix it without a huge do over.
I figured it out.
But my brain is tired.
My body is tired.
I think I'll go to bed early. (If I go to bed much earlier than usual, I might as well not get up.)
I still ain't called my mother today, so I better do that first.
Later, gater.
