Some parts of the writing process1 are admittedly a bit tedious. For example: the latest bit. I did a first editing pass on the new book, which went well. But I didn’t edit it on the screen, heavens no; that would be efficient. Instead, I edited it by printing out the entire thing on paper and then going at it with a red pen. Not so much ‘old school’ as ‘prehistoric’. Like me.
Doing it that way works great for my mind2, but it leads to the next bit: I then have to make all those edits in the Word3 doc. That means hour after thrilling hour of:
Select text.
Type correction.
Sigh.
Go to step 1.
Whee.
But after yesterday’s marathon, that bit is done. I’ve now printed out a fresh and shiny second draft.4
The next step, in theory, is for me to set the new draft aside for a few days or weeks, and spend the time catching up on all the adulting I haven’t been doing. Maybe read a bit, play some games, and think about anything other than the book. Will any of this happen? Based on past experience, there’s no chance in hell.
In other news, I’m pleased to report that my various D&D groups continue to make bad life choices. Among the things heard at the table recently are such gems as these:
“The Cleric is not a piñata.”
Being the person who’s playing the cleric, I couldn’t agree more.
“What even is chlamydia, anyway?”
The blissfully innocent 15-year-old player whose character was hurling insults at the fruit-cart vendor, without fully understanding what they were saying.
“Good morning, asshole.”
A scary-powerful Red Wizard, speaking directly into the mind of the insolent Valdar. As a professional courtesy, the wizard was ‘warning’ Valdar of the Early Morning Meteor BarrageTM that was on its way.
“I didn’t ask how big the room was, I said I cast ‘fireball’!
Edrin, the cranky dwarf mage, making it clear that area effect weapons are a ‘them’ problem.
The way I do it, anyway. Which is questionable at best.
And there was much rejoicing.
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