I don't know why but blue brains seem to be in pain or confusion. -- me
There are hundreds of classic interpersonal struggles inherent in the process of creation or perhaps better said production. Our post-modern, not yet post-industrial age gives us: manager versus worker and artist vs. producer or maybe commercial interface (the salesman). These conflicts give rise to those pithy sayings: "Those that cannot do teach, those that cannot teach manage, those that cannot manage own."
When we hear stories of such fracturous interactions we tend to either dismiss them because we really don't care about which hedge fund associate warned who about which mortgage backed security or we hear the beginning of the tale and instantly have the "been there, suffered that" reaction.
So if you are a published author or should you have engaged in any endeavor that allows you to use the term "editor" as a pejorative, you may want to skip this post. Sometime in the last few hours the Mike Matusow auto/biography was sent off to the printer. That means it is now in the form which hopefully large numbers of people will read. No more commas will change, no more sentences will be tweaked, no more discussions will be had over the direction, focus, message, intention or meaning.
I have heard war stories about authors and editors. Quite frankly, I (Amy & I) do not have a story worthy of "war." What we do have is our first major experience with being artists and having a major work bent to the will of the consumer world. Unfortunately, that consumptive mass of Visa card holders out there can only be interpreted by those "in the business." That means there are no fast rules and no absolutes. Our ongoing experience with having our articles and posts edited, did not prepare us for eighteen months of work coming under the microscope, the blue pencil and in particular the rewrite.
So we struggled over keeping the book in Mike's voice. We put in scenes, took them out and recast them. Grammar tried to win the day against the elements of truth in self told story. Chapters came and went and combined and got renamed. We even changed the title of the book at the eleventh hour. No one liked the old title, but equally no one had a new one. Does "The Damn Thing's Done" strike you as too self indulgent?
Sometime in April, I am going to lock and load on my next book length project. But right now I am wondering if a 8-5 cubicle does not have some inherent sanity protections not afforded to creations out of whole cloth.