What happened to that beautiful novel I wrote?

Something happened to my eyes during this one last edit before publication. They turned cold. The warm light of love they used to shine on my novel is gone. The experience is disconcerting.

I ask myself repeatedly how, during all my previous edits, I could have missed the things I’m seeing now. Why did I not recognize my addiction to italics? Why did I not realize I had a bit of a crush on em dashes? Why did that horrid syntax not clunk when I read that sentence before? Aloud even?

I’m thankful I’m seeing these things now and not after the book is published. But I’m also weary. I want to get back to writing. I want to live in another novel’s world for a while. I want that excitement.

My publication date is growing closer though. As I’m editing, I’m also working on the cover painting. I thought I had finished it yesterday, but alas, not so. Only a little more work to do though. Then I move to Photoshop to turn it into a book cover. Graphics are not my strong suit, but I have friends I can ask for help, if I need it.

By the way, reading my book on the Kindle has enabled me to see those necessary edits. I’ve also enjoyed reading other books on it, but I confess that I won’t be giving up paper books anytime soon. It’s cool to tuck a library’s worth of books in my purse and go. And it’s true, technically the e-book images are very much like print on paper, easy on the eyes. But the sensory element is missing. I realize the younger generations will never miss that, but I’ve been a book person for a long time. So I’ll still buy books I love in their paper versions … as long as they’re available.

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