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NEws Letter

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July 2024

Dear Reader,


I recently posted a page from the proofs of Night & Day, the collection of short fiction—and more—that's coming out in October, which provoked a certain amount of comment. (Thank you to the person who remarked, disapprovingly, that it didn't look like a Charlie Parker novel. Your input is appreciated.) We're reproducing the page here, because it seems like a good opportunity to explain a little about the process of production, and the author’s role in it—which, to be honest, isn’t much fun for the author.


Basically, I deliver my manuscript to my editors about nine months to a year in advance of publication. After my editors make some notes, it goes to copy edit, which involves a trained copy editor going through the manuscript to mark it up for the printers, and check every word, piece of punctuation, and fact. It's the equivalent of having your homework examined by an obsessively rigorous teacher, before being handed back with all your errors marked in red pen, and anything that might be an error queried in a mildly passive-aggressive way. It's quite bad for the old self-confidence, but copy editors save a great many blushes, and are the unsung heroes and heroines of publishing.


In theory, publishers prefer an author to make final corrections or changes to a manuscript at copy-edit stage, but I find that almost impossible. It's like trying to write with someone shouting in your ear about how careless you are, and how it’s a miracle—or possibly a crime—that anyone ever decided to publish you, you big fraud. I may manage to add a paragraph or two, or move some material around, but those are alterations I'll have been thinking about in advance of receiving the copy-edited manuscript. Generally, I'm just signing off on the copy editor's changes, or most of them, while confirming what's right and changing what's wrong. I'll also deal with any issues my editors have raised.


That manuscript then forms the basis of the proof, also known as the galley, which is an early unbound version of the book. The publishers will employ a professional proofreader to go through it, and they’ll be looking for typos or—sometimes—a glaring inconsistency in the plot. My wife will also read the proof copy, as will Minion Clair, and one of my closest friends (and first ex-girlfriend), who has a good eye for detail. This will be first time any of them will have seen the text.

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