Well! Christmas — and 2009 — is officially over and done with. I won't say I've emerged entirely unscathed, but I and my family appear to have the correct number of functioning limbs and vital organs apiece, and my incipient lunacy has progressed slower than anticipated.
I'm counting it as a win.
Mostly, in between brief bouts with my family and decidedly less brief bouts of flying,1 I spent my Christmas editing. (Oh yeah, I know how to party. Just ask me.) Sometimes, my family helped with the editing. Like the one time I really wanted someone to say that blood did not taste all that metallic, and not one of them would. After that, since they took such glee in ganging up on me, I asked them "Well, what tastes like iron, that isn't blood, and isn't iron?"
Their suggestions included blood sausage, cranberries, and Deep Heat. None of which, you know, make for great similes.
I've made a first pass through every page of the manuscript, so all the little fixes should be taken care of and only the fiddly larger fixes remain. Oh joy. My all-time favourite blooper in the manuscript was when the character Xaver suddenly and inexplicably, for one line only, became Xander. WTF? My all-time favourite editor's note in the margin of the manuscript was this one:
a nice word – but not a real one??
Obviously my editor is a woman after my mother's heart, who is convinced I am engaged in a single-handed attempt to pervert English by (gasp) making up new words.
And now, after all the editing I've done this weekend, I think it's time for pizza. Or oblivion. I can't decide.
- Three out of five of my flights were heinously delayed, courtesy of Brisbane Airport — even when I was nowhere near the place! Damn flow-on effects and low-budget airlines not having any spare planes, anyway. [↩]