Finally, in “Ode to the Editor,” someone finally understands what editors actually do, and how we love doing what we do.

Read this to see what I’m talking about. Chuck Wendig is an author who “gets” why an editor is sometimes necessary, and always helpful, even when they “tear apart” an author’s work.

“There she sits, alone. For hours. Maybe days. Pulling pages apart. Seeing what she has. Shining a light into dark corners. Finding sense. Fixing errors. Bringing sanity back to madness, chaos back to order, context back to content. Her red pen dances bloodily upon the page.” Yep, that’s me.

“She goes to him. She shows him what she’s done. He hates her — at first. He froths and kicks and spits, a beast poorly corralled, distraught at what he sees — the ruination of my art, the muddying of my vision, poopy handprints on what was once a clean white wall. But soon he sees. He sees how things make sense.”

“What she brings to the story is hidden behind every page. Lost in the space between sentences. Her repairs are invisible — the mechanisms of her craft hidden behind authorial drywall. Ever unknown to readers.”

I weep. “If you prick us, do we not bleed?” “I am not an animal! I am a human being!”

Thank you, Chuck Wendig. I salute you, as well!