|Wisdom of an Inner Editor|
Now, don't go looking at me like that. Inner Editors have a horrid reputation, I know, but there's no need to recoil. And scrunching up your nose in that manner is just rude, if you don't mind my saying so.
You may be under the impression Renee runs away every time I come calling and the Muse and I have to be kept in separate rooms for the sake of both our continued good health, but that simply isn't true. Renee and I happen to enjoy working together a rather lot and I even have a very cordial working relationship with the Muse.
It has been brought to my attention by the Idea Salesman, in his typically disrespectful--"Hot Librarian Chick" is not an appropriate moniker for a coworker, in my opinion--but also infuriatingly logical manner, that I agreed to contribute to this blog to further your understanding of Renee's creative process and provide some small form of entertainment. I also hope to dispel some of the more malicious myths out there regarding my kind.
Inner Editors, being abstract concepts of the mind, don't typically have much opportunity to defend ourselves in an open forum. The Idea Salesman was not incorrect in assessing the rare opportunity I have at my disposal. I do so abhor his being right; he never lets those rare moments pass unremarked.
Contrary to popular belief, Inner Editors are not a "necessary evil". (We are, of course, quite necessary. We're just not evil.) I don't hate Renee or the Muse and I don't get any thrill out of slashing through great swaths of raw prose with a giant red pen. Do not mistake my having a career I happen to enjoy for anything more than that.
We don't need to be tied up and hidden away in a dark closet or shipped off to deserted islands when there is writing to be done. Nor do we particularly appreciate such treatment. And don't think to just pack us off on some fancy pleasure trip either. I love a good Caribbean cruise as much as the next girl, but that kind of vacation isn't very restful.
Be serious now. Could you relax in even the most luxurious stateroom if you knew that someone back home was hosting a chaotic festival celebrating the wildest of wild abandon in your living room, making a huge mess you knew you'd have to clean up as soon as you returned?
I didn't think so.
Working with an Inner Editor is not a bad thing. We're not here to judge you or torment you. We're here to help. To separate the grand ideas the Muse inspired from the chunky adverb-inflated text and stilted dialogue you wrote as the coffee was running low and the real world was creeping into the edges of your concentration.
Do we harp on you about horrid comma abuse your routinely engage in? Naturally.
Do we nag you about big blank white space your characters sometimes stumble into when having an heated argument? Of course we do.
Do we continually remind you to include, or remove, the sidekick you insisted on bringing into the story and then constantly leave hanging on the edges of every scene? Well, that's just polite.
Consider for a moment the prose you would be stuck with if we weren't there to help you with those things.
Ah, yes. Now we've come to an appropriate point in the conversation for you to recoil and scrunch up your nose.
You're welcome. Now go buy your Inner Editor something nice to show your appreciation. And stay away from giant red pens. There's no need to make a cliché of yourself.