They cherrypick your backgrounds & return them to the industry standard you were determinedly working away from; gut your structures of any difficulty & re-present them as being unwittingly “correct” (how amazing that you were almost doing it properly); & wilfully fail to get the point of what you write so they can pretend that having a point isn’t the point of writing. Oh, they love you, they don’t want to upset you; but more importantly they don’t want to upset anyone else. So they take what they want & leave everything designed to make your stuff upsetting. Then they wonder why you won’t give them a quote for their novel. The pets. Your heart goes out to their turmoil.
It’s only entertainment, innit?
Blimey. Inject me with adrenaline why don’t you!
There’s a guy at my climbing gym who wears a shirt that says “KIDULT” in huge letters across the front. He only ever boulders. He grunts and shouts a lot and hangs out with the guys who write for Urban Climber. They grunt and shout a lot too. And they love to take their shirts off and show off their tatoos.
It’s a broken world, man.
Name names and revel in free publicity! (Or stay classy.)