Final proofreading moves like glaciation. I've eaten half a strawberry-rhubarb pie today and tried to watch a James Bond movie only the disc glitched in the middle -- but not early enough to spare me the Halle Berry, which burnt my retinas and made me scream like the Joker does in the first Batman movie (the Keaton one, not the Adam West fiasco with Bat Shark Repellent). And am I actually editing while I do all this? Probably not, although half the story has been fine-tooth-combed (I'm sure I missed something, though, which is why I have to print the damn thing out and check that way too). I think all the kinks in the characterization are worked out for this version, though. No idea if anyone else will enjoy Sadie Valentino as much as I do, or if it's back to pitchforks and uncomfortable placement of flaming torches.
At least, by my standards, there's a happy ending. But a Ben Happy Ending is pretty much like reading Revelations for most people. I guess you could say it's an ambivalent ending or a "Well, she's not dead" ending. It's nothing like perfection, it's a callous and flawed body like anything else I've written, but I'm hoping people in my workshop find something worthy in it. It gave me a reason to research a Bulgarian diva.
But enough stalling! Into the waters I dive.