Editing After the Fact

I have to assume I am the only one who cares, knowing how I myself read other peopleʼs blogs, but I want to mention that old Wakdjunkagaʼs Blog undergoes real-life editing — by which I mean editing after the post. (How close are we getting to post hoc propter hoc here?) It happened yesterday. It usually happens every time I reread an old post and notice what I should have noticed the first time around. Itʼs happened almost every time I place a post that I havenʼt scheduled in advance (thatʼs because I get excited to get done and donʼt proofread quite as closely or carefully as I should — tisk tisk). And with the new (how long will I keep saying “new?” do we wonder) job, those same-day/same-time posts are pretty frequent, even regular.

Now this post is an advance-schedule item, as my nonAmerican readers should be aware (those being the ones who can visit my words of unwisdom instantly when the post appears at 2:02 AM Central Daylight Time). Even so, it isnʼt one that will get all the proofing or completing it may need, as I am typing madly away (listening to various incarnations of Eric Claptonʼs guitar wail from iTunes). Itʼs nearly time for The Lovely One to appear after work (and I have already cracked a Guinness to celebrate the end of another lo-o-o-ng work week), so whatever I complete on the quick and dirty here and now will become the post.

My time is short because I didnʼt have all that much time on my “day off” to write anything. I spent yesterday (by which I mean “yesterday,” the day before the post appears, Friday, May 6) not entirely at home, as I took off for lunch with Janet (yay us!), and two guys were here installing new flooring in our kitchen* (a project that thanks to a mis-order wonʼt be complete by Monday, as we had at one time — yesterday morning — anticipated). So it was a distracting day. I did write to my brother Stephen, a letter that isnʼt done yet (I said already it was a distracting day) because I stopped to whip out this froth of nonsense and stream of consciousness. The post that appeared yesterday originated between 10:00 and 11:00, starting, as always, from nothing whatsoever, and this one followed when I got stymied at just how to explain several things to Stephen, things I could also perhaps explain here one day, memory and intended activities and outcomes permitting.

This one frothed out partly because I observed all the red dot-underlines beneath typos in the letter (and continued with quite a plethora** more here in this document). Errors made me think about proofreading and reflect on the nearly dozen changes (all minor) that I made to yesterdayʼs post between its appearance and 2:30 PM. My confession of post-publication edits isnʼt the best advertising for someone halfheartedly attempting an editing business***, but it is true (and I do take the care to make things perfect, even months or perhaps years afterward — when I catch the mistakes, that is).

Not that you care, gentle reader, but sometimes itʼs fun to check back again later. Just to see what changes. And how.

Now itʼs time that The Lovely One arrived, and I owe her my undivided attention. So this is it. Uncaught errors, extra spaces, typos, mispunctuations and all.

* What, oh my droogies? Did you think I was working for the pleasure of it? Or the pain, in my case? No, itʼs for the cash, purely and simply, so that my beloved can make all the renovations her greedy heart desires. After all, the Census work gave us our new driveway and the new furnace (not to mention a big TV)**** a year ago. USDA is going to fund a new bathroom job and also this kitchen floor work. (It already bought me an order of books from Library of Americashhh! donʼt tell Janet: she doesnʼt read the blog, so what she doesnʼt know, you know, wonʼt hurt…)

** If time and failing memory permit, I have a whole post on “plethora,” a word that pleasantly arose in actual conversation one week ago today… (the post is actually about the events of Saturday, April 30).

*** …work I would rather do than hang traps on trees, I hesitate to admit. —— Clients? Clients?

**** Find any errors in those links, brothers and sisters?

©2011 John Randolph Burrow, Magickal Monkey Enterprises, Ltd, S.A.

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