Self-editing – the reading and re-reading and re-re-reading of your work – is a horrendous task that I never look forward to. It’s part of the job, I tell myself, and get on with it. Once the final page of the story has been written it gets serious. The writing has been fun, now the hard work begins. I read a manuscript at least four times before I send it to anyone else to read, sometimes it is a lot more. I’m looking for bits that jar, bits that don’t fit with the rest of the story and typos that have crept in somehow. At least one of the read throughs I do out loud which makes the mind concentrate harder on the words on the page. Plus it is easier then to pick up on prose and dialogue that isn’t the best – repeated words, too many words, just awful stuff that should never see the light of day. So back to it. Sigh.