Two more days of writing and I’m human again. I’m so happy knowing how elated I’m going to feel Tuesday night. It will be the fifth time I’ve felt it. Part terror, mostly jubilation. It’s not like I’m technically done. My editor will have edits, the copy editor will have even more.
I also have to go through and fact-check. Publishers used to do this, but now authors are expected to fact-check their own books. No matter how careful you are as you go along, you make mistakes. You type in dates incorrectly, flip places (ie “he was born in France and died in Spain,” when it was the other way around) you mess up transcribing quotes, or you misunderstand what someone was explaining in an interview and you don’t represent them correctly. It’s endless the kinds of mistakes you might have made and it’s time consuming finding them.
I love fact-checking other people’s books, LOVE it. I’m also great at it. It’s fun for me so I’m very thorough. I would happily do it for a living. But fact-checking your own is kinda tedious.
I think I might have posted a picture of this restaurant before, Redfarm. It’s fairly new but it already has an excellent reputation. It’s expensive though, so I’ve never eaten there. It’s sits above where I do my laundry. If the weather is nice I sit under that tree there and read. I don’t know why, but I enjoy the contrast of that, my well-to-do neighbors having a fancy dinner above the machines where my laundry is going round and round. I don’t begrudge them at all! Sitting under that tree reading is such a happy, peaceful, relaxed thing to do it makes me look forward to doing the laundry. It’s just funny.