Quick scan resulted in at least thirty typos and a spectacular mistake at the start of a chapter.
Think I’m getting the hang of this now.
Get new copy, confine oneself to bed with tea and no phone. Read. Even though you think you’ve checked every single word, even though you can recite chunks in your sleep. Even though you are so ‘into’ the text that you suddenly stop in the supermarket, box of pasta in hand — shit that should have been a colon on page seventy-five, not a comma. Even then there will be an error somewhere.
To sooth myself I looked up ‘publishing mishaps’. The best was probably a pasta book published by Penguin. At some point the text read: take a teaspoon of freshly ground black people . . .
No hole would be big enough to swallow you up.