THE ART OF DETECTION in the box
That’e2’80’99s TAD done and dusted. At long last, THE ART OF DETECTION is off my desk, all the blue Post Its (notes to self) removed and the brown Post Its (notes to editor) folded neatly along the side of the page; all the copy editor’e2’80’99s mistaken changes of my American English into English English (Mr. to Mr and Dr. to Dr etc, etc) dragged back west of the Atlantic; an entire subplot woven in (Have I said something earlier that contradicts this bit I want to add? Where did I mention this character before? What other key words should I use to find those mentions? Haven’e2’80’99t I used this descriptive phrase before? Ad infinitum, ad nauseum); all the additions marked for insertion, stapled onto their relevant pages, and double checked to make sure they got printed (only found one that got overlooked); explanatory notes written and attached; double oversized rubber bands strapped around it; inserted (with difficulty’e2’80’94the thing was big to begin with, and I put another hundred pages of replacement on top of it); the Fed Ex mailing label filled out; and into the Fed Ex box at two thirty yesterday afternoon with a most satisfying slither and thump.
The proof pages, work of some poor longsuffering maniac of a typesetter who has to work through 500 pages of typescript with changes on every line, will come to me in a month or so.
And after that, I NEVER HAVE TO READ IT AGAIN.