I don't know when to stop by Sandra Horn
I’ve just had a hissy fit on Facebook because – and it’s entirely my fault – I sent a poem off with my usual lack of hope, was amazed to find it (a) shortlisted, (b) up on a website and (c) to be published in a chapbook. The thing is, AFTER sending it off, I could see several things wrong with it. I never learn. However, the information had mentioned editing so I was hopeful that at least I could change the terrible last line. Nope. The Editor was happy with it as it was, except for one comma. Oh, and I’d also agreed to read it in an online showcase…Cringe! My hissing and ranting – ‘I can’t read it!’ etc. resulted in several kind people encouraging me to read my updated version instead, and other people saying things like ‘but they like it, they must know what they’re talking about,’ and finally, ‘why don’t you trust them?’ Ah. That’s the thing. I’ve had bad and good encounters with editors over the years. Sometimes they have improved my work and sometimes they have mad...