That said, our conversations — despite taking place in the absurdly arbitrary realm of 140 characters or less — turned towards a game of "you show me yours/I'll show you mine."
No, not THAT kind. This isn't Chatroulette.
Anyway, we agreed to foist upon the world the exact proportion of our own editng woes, so without further ado, behold the precise dimensions of my own personal Gehenna.
|Stock tip: buy shares in red ink; there'll be a run on it this month.|
As you can see above, I actually transcibed my typewritten pages — with varying degrees of accuracy — to an electronic format, then had them bound at the 'depot. I even had Gen do a mockup cover for me.
|Protip: when engaged in a mind-numbing process, take your fun where you can get it.|
I've already gone through the whole thing with my Lamy Safari F point and Waterman encre rouge, making corrections or — as above — rewriting entire sections on the facing page. That part was easy. Now, however, I'm stuck applying the changes one agonizing step at a time, making changes to my changes and so on. Which is to say nothing of the fact that I still face the small matter of mapping the plot to make sure that all 160,000 words hang together just so.
|Looks like I found a use for that bomber jacket folio after all.|
And once that's done? Why, it's just a matter of updating the whole thing to the Cloud, that I may access my agony in any venue I should so choose. Hooray.
If anything, this process has taught me one thing: write better the first time.