My Guy by Val Tyler

I am dyslexic and so, before I send off any writing, I have to pass it through my guy.

There are times when I really dislike him. He is brilliant, of that there is no doubt. He is also ruthless and completely without whimsy. He says he melds all my literary elements, but I think he squeezes the life out of them. Everything has to be ‘correct’. Calling him pedantic would be an understatement. He is downright picky.

And yet, where would I be without him?

He corrects my spelling (spellchecks only pick up so much). He nit-picks at my punctuation and points out gaps in the plot. Maybe this is his most important gift to me. I tend to edit my stories way more than most people and, consequently, relevant plot issues that I planned to move elsewhere sometimes go missing. My guy never fails to pick this up.

He could never be a fiction writer because his head is full of facts and academic papers and intelligent references; while mine is full of mystical places and strange storylines and unlikely people. Without him I would still be compelled to write my stories, but the reader might struggle on occasions to make sense of them and so, reluctantly, I will take my hat off to him.

In fact, I will applaud you, sir! Thank you for all your toxic notes and corrections, but don’t expect me to be happy about them. When it comes to the technicalities, you are always right, but in everything else you couldn’t be more wrong! My stories are better because of you, but you really do drive me nuts.

I now have to give this to you to make sure I’ve not missed a comma or confused the spellcheck. I humbly place it at you feet and feel compelled to say…

…thank you.