The efforts behind editing my second book are aided by that beautiful, colorful, clean, precise little scrap of paper we all know and love, called a sticky-note.
Could there ever be a more pristine or elegant solution to editing? . . . I mean besides the fact that the writing thereupon is squeezed in so small you can barely read it once you’ve finished and only my intimate knowledge of how poorly I form my letters allows me to decipher what exactly the thought originally was.
I’m not sure how other people proof their Createspace copies, but sticky notes are really helpful. Because I’m too lazy to go buy myself a new package of small sticky notes, I suffice with cutting big ones in half and allowing my neurosis to fret over imprecise cuts.
I gave up scissors a long time ago, too. Too clunky, too much work, and the sticky gets lost when passed over a blade. A much better option is a knife drawn down the center of the block. It achieves the same affect and is more entertaining. But don’t use it on anything you want to remain without a scratch, because you will poke holes in the table if that’s where you edit.
Somehow it preserves the integrity of reading a book, whilst allowing me the freedom to make changes as I please. That is until the book is so bulging with paper that It doesn’t fold right anymore. However, this is indeed the purpose of a proof. It couldn’t possibly be perfect and heaven forbid I never find a mistake in my writing. I don’t think I could call myself a writer if I was infinitely pleased with every word put to paper.
ranngreene 