I always dread editing. I cower from it like it is the tar-like offal of Hell — so vile that even the Dark One cringes when it gets on eir shoes — about to douse me in a torrent of repugnance and corruption that would make even the most horrific descriptions of apocalyptic ruin seem like a pastoral summer holiday in comparison. Then, when editing has begun and I’m in the midst of it, I realize that I entered into the process entirely too optimistically.