I’m referring to those times when I’ve run across a word or phrase that I knew I’d written differently.
In those cases, I have repaired the damage, trying not to think about other errors might have wiggled into my manuscripts.
Over time, this explanation felt insufficient. I decided to set up a simple surveillance camera to monitor my office. Thus I captured the attached, disturbing image. After recovering from the initial shock, I confronted the perpetrator. “Carl, how could you?”
His ever-smiling countenance firmly in place, he answered, “How could I what?”
“Mess with my manuscripts. Have you also attempted touch-up painting on the Mona Lisa?”
“The Mona Lisa is perfect. Your efforts—not so much.”
Inwardly, I blustered. How dare he? Who gave him the right to tamper with my labors? When I cooled down, I realized that Carl was correct. Though I have worked diligently, my writing in not perfect—yet.
You’ll be happy to know that Carl and I have come to an agreement. He is now free to peruse anything he likes. By way of concession, he has agreed to suggest changes and allow me to make the final decisions.