A friend of mine was a copy editor with a leading Canadian periodical. She said it would take eight people to catch all the typos in any issue of their 30-page magazine. I doubted her at the time; now I don’t.

After having two professional copy editors review the forthcoming 154,000-word Much Ado About Corona novel, we rendered the Kindle version and sent it to a final (or so I thought) proofreader. I also gave it another read (I’ve never read a single book so many times in my life).

I figured we’d find only a few more typos.

Together we came up with thirty-three pages of corrections:

• Probably about 10% of them were small last-minute editorial changes (not really errors).
• 40% were typos like backwards quotes, missing words, similar sounding words (e.g. “hare” instead of “hair”) and excessive or missing punctuation.
• 25% were formatting issues, footnote problems and indenting issues.
• 25% were technical story issues (which I guess would have became bloopers) like: One character seeing an expression he couldn’t see on another character’s face (because they were wearing a face mask); or two minor characters with the same name (I had two Cindys and two Bills); or a “town hall” that became a “city hall” for a while.

I sent those corrections in to be added to the master copy. After that, another proofreader will read the Kindle version, while four more proofreaders will read the paperback and hardcover versions.

I can’t imagine that this last (I pray) round of proofing will generate such a long list. After all, we caught some pretty tricky (and sometimes funny) typos. Here are six examples (see if you can spot the errors):

• “I felt glad I had finally done something clever enough to compliment her scheming.”
• “Another reason they chose the statute of St. Joseph…”
• “’We swapped your plates with one of the moving trucks.’”
• “’All the cops need do is go to Vince’s parents and get a list of his friends or go to the arena and get a team rooster.'”
• “There was a long line of just three people, all twelve feet apart, wearing white masks, googles and face shields.”
• “’How in the world are you going to submit your rouge reports?’”

Needless to say, after 1,100 hours of work the novel is still not done. There were moments when I felt like I should just quit, or that I wouldn’t get it done before they locked us all up in quarantine camps. Instead, I kept on “hauling.”

One of my favourite songs — which we play at our local truth and freedom rallies — is “Keep Hauling” by The Fisherman’s Friends. I’ve not eaten fish (or meat in general) for twenty-three of the forty-three years I’ve been incarnate on this harrowing world, but I sure love this sea shanty about the joy of perseverance…

Keep haulin’. It’s a message for the entire freedom movement. Keep haulin’. Or, in my case…

KEEP PROOFING

When the final draft seems far away
Keep proofin’, keep proofin’
The book will surely be published someday
Keep proofin’ boys

When a comma’s always in the wrong spot
Keep proofin’, keep proofin’
Every error will surely be caught
Keep proofin’ boys
Keep proofin’, ho-ooo

Rouse and edit your voice
Hold your pen and don’t let go
Keep proofin’ boys

Sometime in March, my patient readers. Until then, you can read more about the novel, read testimonials and preview a free chapter.