Editors from hell…
Oh yeah…I've got a story about one. First up let me say that I know I need editing. Only a dipstick writer thinks they don’t. My editor from hell story? Let’s call her Susie-Lou Finkleheimer-Wong. My apologies to any Finkleheimer-Wongs out there. Anyway, Susie-Lou knew bugger all about editing. She was – probably still is – a writer. It’s always a bloody awful sign when you are stuck with a writer-editor-know-it-all. So this chick started out all over-the-top gushy and friendly and my spidey-sense was immediately on alert. She wanted us to be friends and be all happy-faced and I think if you start a professional relationship like that – and editors and writers have to be professional or they’re screwed and phrases like ‘bitch-hell-spawn’ or ‘anal psycho cow-faced twat’ are not conducive professional, business etiquette – then you’re screwed.
The first edits I got back were fascinating. All the words Susie-Lou hated like ‘that’, ’was’, ‘and’, ‘as’ and ‘the’ had all been changed to bold red capitalized text and I was instructed by the psychotic Bride of Chucky to change every single one of them and use ‘different words’. Uh-huh. I indicated the stupidity of this request and may have inferred she was on hallucinogenic drugs. Several dozen unproductive emails back and forward resulted in her becoming scarily like a drunk Mrs Brady and me emailing the publisher and demanding that I required an editor who did not have her brains in her left armpit. I got another editor.
The moral of the story. It is your story. You wrote it. Accept advice that makes sense and avoid Finkleheimer-Wongs.