I hate editing because it puts both sides of my brain in conflict and that's a battle neither side is capable of winning.
Rosie Rightbrain is a playful sprite. She flits from word to word sprinkling fairy dust all over the page with no regard to logic or reason.
Lance Leftbrain is a literary hit man. Nothing is safe from his killing tools. Imagination is simply a word to him - unless it’s spelled incorrectly, in which case it's a mistake and must now be pulverized.
When they’re forced to work together, it goes something like this:
ROSIE: Oh, this is tedious. Let’s do something fun. I know, lets write a ghost story!
LANCE: Stop playing and get serious. Can’t you see how awful this manuscript is? We must destroy it. Cut, slash, burn!
ROSIE: Don’t you dare touch my words you big poopy-head. Rules are for bureaucrats, not poets.
LANCE: Rosie, I've met Maya Angelou, and believe me you're no Maya Angelou. Does this look like poetry to you? It doesn’t even make sense.
ROSIE: You have no imagination. It’s lyrical. It doesn’t have to make sense.
LANCE: How many times have I told you that you can't just make up your own words?
ROSIE: I can too! You're not the boss of me!
LANCE: Do you realize there’s a character who shows up on Page 5 and never appears again in the entire novel?
ROSIE: I know, but didn’t I describe him beautifully? He practically steps off the page.
LANCE: Yeah, steps right off the page and into a black hole, never to be seen again. And what’s this? An entire paragraph without any punctuation?
ROSIE: It’s a metaphor. See the character’s life is like a runaway train and. . .
LANCE: . . .period, comma, comma, question mark, semi-colon, period and/or paragraph. . .
ROSIE: You’re mean. (sob)
LANCE: And you’re a no-talent wannabe. We should throw it all away and just start over.
ROSIE: (perking up) Start over? Yes, let’s start over! Only this time the twins will be boys and they’ll be lost in the Bermuda Triangle and one of them discovers a pirate’s map. Oh, and there’s a ghost on the island too.