Editing and I have a...interesting... relationship. We get along well enough, fixing spelling and grammar as mistakes are made. We have a great time when proof reading for someone else. But, well, I think Editing tries too hard. It begs me to come over, to hang out for a while, to just look at this one sentence. Don't I think the words would be better arranged somewhat differently?
Maybe I'm the bad friend. I'm always too busy and often abandon Editing once the words are down for something more fun. I would rather skim the surface for the obvious typos than go back and make sure my sentences aren't too passive. I grimace and delay when Editing asks for a night with me.
Then I sigh and fortify myself for a long night shifting words around. I sit down with a poem, my pen, my tea, and Editing offers up suggestions on how to make my drivel sound like poetry. We shift words here and there, take some out, and add some in. At the end, I'm left with something that has shed it's skin so many times, I'm not sure what it started out as.
A poem grew into poetry, all thanks to the weirdness of Editing.
Maybe I'll call Editing up this weekend and see if it wants to go for coffee.