The Editing Impulse

Yesterday afternoon I attempted to indulge in a little escapism by reading a sci-fi mystery I picked up from the library last week. There I was, lying on the sofa, happily turning page after page as I tried to envision the various alien species, when I saw it: an error of omission (in this case, a missing apostrophe). My inner editor shouted at me to do something. I told her to shut up. (Hey, I’m on a break here!) I read on. There was another error (missing comma), and then another. My inner editor continued to protest. I stuffed a sock in her mouth (metaphorically, of course).

Then I came across yet another error (missing preposition), but this one was a little different. This time, a previous reader had helpfully penned in the missing word. Apparently, that person’s inner editor took over on page 60. “See?” my inner editor shouted gleefully. “Someone else did it, so it must be okay. Where’s our red pen?” I closed the book and took a nap.

When I woke up, I started to wonder if I was doing other readers a disservice by ignoring my impulse to edit. Should I go back with a red pen and correct all those little errors? Would my markup be any less distracting than the errors themselves? Is it any wonder writers consistently make these kinds of mistakes when the mistakes show up so often in print?

I did not grab my little red pen. I did continue to read the book (which is really pretty good and is part of a series I enjoy) and noticed another error or two. My inner editor squirmed, but I took the errors as a humbling reminder that all writers and editors are human. I also smiled to myself, happy that I was not the editor responsible for all those annoying little mistakes.