It occurred to me today, as I raced to meet my first newspaper deadline in 17 months, that one of the most difficult aspects of writing is going over what you’ve done and looking for all the instances that might reveal to perceptive readers that, in reality, you’re a total idiot.
These include grammatical slips, factual errors, and unfortunate bursts of giddiness resulting in overly florid metaphors. Also, star-crossed wording that leads to inadvertent offense.
Often with a big subject, it’s difficult to ingest, or digest. And since your name will appear in the byline, the last thing you want is to come across as is the fool you are. This is why it especially smarts, after such hard and careful work (14 hours in the chair today), if an editorial hand slips in at the last moment to swap out a carefully chosen word or alter the meaning of sentence. (It’s been done.)
But it is, after all, just ephemera, little of it of consequence, beyond the moment. Nonetheless, I hope I’ve been successful in preserving the illusion.
Of course regular followers of this page are probably well-aware of my idiocy by now. But mayhap they also find it a little endearing?