Recently, I was called out on on a questionable writing construct. Editors have told me, from very young age, that: “blahblahblah is not a word.” or “blahblahblah is not a verb.” However in their very edits they rewrite my words such that it says precisely what I aim to communicate.
So I counter with, “Yet you understood precisely that which I wrote.”
Patiently the editor informs me, “That’s not the point. Blahblahblah is incorrect.”
So I smile, tip my head to the side and say with my best student-who’s-just-learned-something-new-tone, “Oh, so the point of writing is to construct proper sentences!”
Okay, I may not have actually said that.
Because, you see, I actually understood what she meant.
So I chalk up this mental victory, as does the editor, and we move along to my next ill formed word verbization.
Alas, such is life at the edge of the word envelope.
Submission really is the only way.
From whence I learned that meter matters,
I tossed those ugly chains of grammar.
You cry out, what nerve! what gall!
Course now I’m chained to rise and fall
Relentless current low then high
It makes you wonder why I try
I’m free from all that constipation
that comes with prose correctization.