You’d think that by the time I hit my third novel, I’d have formatting down to a science. You’d think I’d be a trim size whisperer, effortlessly crafting a perfectly sized book on the first try. You’d be wrong. So there I was, excitedly tearing into my proof copy of Hey, Roomie!, ready to admire my handiwork. The cover? Chef’s kiss. The interior layout? Flawless. The trim size? An 8.5 x 11-inch monstrosity. My sleek…