When I said to my mum
“Let’s make a book together”
I should have probably said
“Let’s make a book together
that’s unedited and still has mistakes
so we can leave out the part where we
stare at details endlessly and they seem to
change even though we just put them in their right place
and we look at them again and we sent the file to each other once more
and we find yet another detail and we remember we forgot something and I’ll
ask you to change some words because I don’t like the ones I read and where the files gets corrupted and we need to redo a lot of stuff and e-mail with customer service too many times and then redo some editing and oh well let’s not make a Dutch translation now that we’re on it and two digital editions too”.
It will be fun.
(This one is dedicated to my sister, who does editing for a living. I never knew how much patience that job takes. I’m in awe).
This poem deserved a door detail instead of a full door 🙂 My mum provided the picture.
The poem, and all characters and incidents portrayed in this post, are not fictitious.