From a Little Whinging to…

…A Little Apology for the last post. Everyone likes a moan. I think it’s cathartic, and it’s helped bring a brighter perspective. So I apologise for seeming a bit antsy. Firstly the reason for the whinge…

At the moment I’m involved in my least favourite part of the publishing process: checking the typeset proofs. Some authors might see this as their favourite part – the final step before seeing the book in print, and hell if the sight of those ISBN numbers aren’t just a little giddying, especially on a debut book. But get past this and things get a little frustrating.

It’s all psychological really. I’ve re-read The Hoard of Mhorrer about 12 times, and I’ve spent a lot of time ensuring there were few typos or spelling errors in the text. So when you go through the typeset proofs discovering errors that you think you’ve removed the last time around, you question your own sanity until you discover they’re not your mistakes at all but have occurred during the typesetting - and then you start chewing on your own fist through sheer despair.
For example, when you’ve spent six or seven drafts checking that “dismounted” is spelt properly to find that someone has spelt it “dimouled”, you can be forgiven for moaning.

So I’m carrying on with the proof-reading, occasionally chewing on my knuckles, taking a few breaks where I can and coming back to it with renewed objectivity. Frustration is part of the game, and I shouldn’t be so surprised as I felt the same with The Secret War. I guess I wouldn’t make a good editor – I don’t have the patience.
Errors apart though, the typesetter's done a good job and the text on the whole looks wonderful.

So that’s the reason behind the moan. And now for the cure…

Part of the current problem has been the lack of time to do anything creative, and that still stands, regardless of proof-reading. So Sarah and I have sat down to look at finances, the time we get to spend together and what time I need for writing. Sarah has been more than accommodating (it was actually Sarah who said I should start writing part-time). She’s been incredibly supportive – as ever – of my writing, and between us we’ve worked out I can drop a day a week to concentrate on the writing. The second party to be considerate and completely supportive, is my employer who has just agreed my change in working pattern.

So from January next year (I want to get Christmas out of the way before my pay-cheque takes a hit) I’ll be a part-time writer. It won’t mean an increase in productivity – I’ll still be writing the same amount each week as I am now – but it just safeguards that output for the future. It means that whatever happens from January onwards, I’ll be able to put aside half a dozen hours a week (at least) to spend on my writing. It means I can spend some time with family and friends without thinking I should really be at the laptop writing. It means I can spend more time with Sarah – who I’ve neglected of late.

It means my writing will be guilt-free. And I think that’s all any writer can ask for, and even then, seldom gets.

So whinging over – I know, I’m bloody lucky, really…