I thought I’d silenced my resident editor for a while and was tooling along on one of the books today.  The editor on my shoulder was very quiet which made me think that things were going along smoothly, but I’m not that lucky. 

     After several hours of working on a dialogue in Doggoned Dead, he shot off my shoulder and kicked me in the buttocks. 

     “Hey, that was uncalled for,” I said.

     “No, it wasn’t.  You aren’t paying attention.”

     I stared at the evil little guy.  “What do you mean I wasn’t paying attention?”

     “Helloooo.  You have your main character speaking to someone who is in Doggoned Bones not Doggoned Dead.”

     “I do not-” I reread the dialogue.  “Oh, crap.”  I scrolled back and spent the next few minutes changing the name every place I’d used it.

     “There, you @#$%!#* happy now?”

     “Yeah, that works for me.”  The evil little editor grinned at me and then said, “One more question, are you going to change the setting to fit the scene?”

     “What?”  I reread the entire scene.  “Son of a-”

     “Don’t say it.”

     “#$*$!  Why did you let me write the entire scene in the wrong setting?”

     “You have to ask?”

     The air around me turned a repulsive shade of blue while I reworked the scene.