The Good News
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"What helps change bad writing into mediocre writing is editing. Editing is in bad shape in print journalism, and is in virtually nonexistent shape in online journalism."
-Robert Christgau
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The problem is: I don't want to lose momentum, and editing takes twice as long as creating. At least.
Cleaning Up This Mess
Thanks to Covid-19...I now have more time than anticipated, so I got an editing program. (Grammarly.)
I'm not sure why this idea didn't occur to me before. Most likely, it's because I didn't have enough brain cells left over after working and shuttling between house projects and doing the rest of my life to think of this.
In case anyone was out there trying to raise money to get some help for this sorry site. (haha) Now you can save the hard-earned cash. I will finally be addressing the issue.
Over the weekend, I updated the list of past posts, and created a checklist of things to fix when editing.
The cool thing about Grammarly is it doesn't just help with spelling and comma placement, it also gives stats about the posts.
The biggest issue I have is that they're all too long. According to Grammarly, they average about 900 words. As I go back post by post, I'm going to try to get them all to be closer to 500-750 words. That won't be possible with some, but the attempt to edit out the junk seems like a good goal.
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The (Really) Bad News
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"My life needs editing."
-Mort Sahl
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Yesterday my mom fell and had to be rushed to the hospital by ambulance. My dad couldn't go with her in the ambulance or go into the hospital. So these posts are the least of my worries right now.
It sounded like she broke her hip, and we were all scared, but the doctor looked at the CAT Scan today, and it's 'just' a broken leg. Now, obviously, a fractured leg is a terrible thing, but I'm hoping she won't have to go through nearly as much pain and long-term physical therapy with it as my dad did when he broke his hip.
Mom was her usual stoic (and funny) self on the phone today. She said when she fell, she landed on a rug. When the ambulance came, these "two big burly guys picked me up, rug and all, just like a sack of potatoes."
She complained about how bumpy Hwy. 730 (between their house and the hospital) was.
"They didn't give you any drugs in the ambulance, mom?"
"No. I didn't get any pain killers until I'd been in the E.R. for about an hour and a half.", she said.
"Oh, no! That's terrible! You must have been in horrible pain. Were you asking them to give you medicine?"
"No." She sounded surprised I'd even ask this question. I guess she figured they'd get around to it. "It wasn't all that bad most of the time. Just when they moved me."
She went on to explain that the rug went everywhere with her. From the house to the ambulance, to the E.R. Then it went to the CAT Scan room, and on up to her room.
"The rug is famous now. How many rugs do you know that have gotten a CAT Scan?" she asked.
Tomorrow morning is the surgery. Michael and I are feeling pretty damn helpless and useless.
Mom said: "Ah, there's never anything to do except wait around anyway."
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I wish I could run this story through Grammarly and edit out the fall altogether. Maybe there's an upgrade option with 'Real-life editing'? That would be a handy feature.
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