Sure, DG, that will teach me to be flippant.
I think I was referring to that editor who is not real, the one that lives in the mind of the first-time writer, the one who stomps on every word choice and scene setting.
That editor can bite me.
The distinction between input from the editor you describe and input from a writer's group (situated anywhere) must be readily apparent, no?
That editor can bite me.
Dude. The one in the head, who tries to eat newbies?
Should be killed on sight. I'm with you.
The meatspace editor who not only knows what they're doing, but who respects the work and the voice?
Anything he or she wants. Dancing girls, groupies, cocaine, chocolate, anything at all.
OK, that Editor, Station manager at KFKD. Bitch.
And then there's my crew, with the machetes and the weedwhackers. Love them.
I think we call Gus's version of an editor a
superego.
The other kind does not fall into a Freudian category.
I think you're right, Nutty.
What is the Freudian category for "Mom"?
Electra notwithstanding?
I dont think that guy liked mothers, so much.
Sometimes the desire to simultaneously strangle and have sex with one's mama is just a cigar...
Me Mum smoked cigars, on occasion.
That probably explains ...
...something.
That probaly explains ...
...something.
But can you drabble it, whatever it is?