Part of the thing that makes me get better, though? I'm used to ripping my stuff apart. I mean, breaking it into pieces, sweeping those bits into the fire, and then watching it quietly burn. Then, with the ashes, I make little paper mache stories. I've gotten used to it; every time someone gives me critique, I start the process over.
And I tend to be rather . . . harsh, therefor, when I'm editing other people's stuff.
Not mean. But when I see a problem, I point it out. When I think 'this' should be 'that' I change it. I tear paragraphs apart and I have no problem saying that an entire paragraph should be rewritten.
It's occurred to me, however, that while that might be helpful . . . It's also a little . . . harsh. I know that when I first consistently started writing, that probably would have stressed me out and possibly given me a heart attack.
You know who you are. I promise I'll give you the opportunity to rip my story apart. I know you haven't said anything to the like, but I was not trying to be mean. I really meant to be helpful. However, glancing over all the edits, I'm thinking I might have done ... Well, a little too much. I just like editing; it's kind of fun to me, and I'm relatively okay at that too.
Thank you for not stabbing me with a pitchfork.
Oh, and thank you for not wearing red satin gloves.