On to the New Fun...

Got the copyeditor's version of the book. My editor emailed it to me. Her email began with a plea that I not freak out. Why should I freak out? Because the copyeditor rewrote the book. Starting with the third sentence. I freaked out. Called my editor. Freaked out all over her. They were willing to let me reject the copyedit entirely, and I desperately wanted to. But the copyeditor had found a few valuable things. For one, I apparently use the word "just" more than any living human. And if asked for a number, I will always select "ten." So good for the copyeditor for those finds. I spent a couple of weeks digging through the copyedited manuscript finding the good notes. Quite a task, at the end of the process, considering that there was exactly one misspelled word in the whole thing. "Cryotome," for the record. Which Blogger is showing as misspelled now!

Two edits I rejected: I refused to spell Ecuador with a "q," and I refused to change the spelling of my first name. Criticizing me is one thing, but that's going after my mother.