After having completed my second draft of the novel, which, because of the constant rewriting in between, is more like a fifth draft, after having had the manuscript read by some important readers, I'm ready for the part in the process where I print it out and read the whole book through - to look at big picture, to look at everything from a different perspective. I'll read it on paper, not at my computer. I'll read it in my head, not out loud, which is my usual way. I change the font to Verdana, not Times New Roman. Anything to aid in my attempt to make this look at my book fresh.
For a while, the printer runs through its gyrations, kicking out the lines of paragraphs in its particular rhythm, spitting out pages. I gather the pages in piles. I look down at one page as it sloops from the mouth of the printer, and my eyes land on a one-word paragraph in the middle of things.
Immediately, my brain knows the line that comes after. And the line that comes after.
Doesn't bode well for seeing this thing fresh...
Is consciousness perhaps
19 hours ago