On Editing, Effervescence and Egrets

You know, editing isn't as easy as it sounds, seems or looks. When you look at a piece of writing like I do, you spot mistakes like a prospector does flecks of gold. You overlook some, but then you find the nugget that starts off the rush, and soon enough you have yourself a fortune in mistakes. You clear them up, bag them and send them off to never be seen again.
Of course, I don't make my fortune fixing mistakes, and it is logically impossible to contain something that isn't actually tangible, material, substantial. Errors are my field. I deal with the immaterial, the intangible, the insubstantial and quasi-nonexistent universe that forms up the dreaded faults that surface in your writings like bubbles from a strip of magnesium dropped in acid (that's called effervescence, for those of you who want to know). They may take a minute to form as you continue to write, but nevertheless, they are there, in a sort of to-be-or-not-to-be sort of way. Mistakes always lurk around the corners; the trick is to work out whether they are going to jump you or not.
Some people find it easy to avoid gross errors and such, but others find it a real problem. Who hasn't been up against some sort of essay with a sentence that gets flagged up time and time again on Microsoft Word's irritating (not to mention incorrect, in most cases) spelling and grammar checker? Let us return to the analogy that I began not two minutes ago. A robber lurks behind the door to the building that you must enter. You know he will rob you of possessive apostrophes and full stops. What must you do? You must take up arms against the enemy. If you know that you can't do this in an effective manner, then hire someone who can. In the case of the Kettle, that someone is me.
I, The Eternal Editor, do not claim to rid posts, stories and dialogues of all their flaws. My job is but to minimise the number of them. Take the egret, for instance. Anyone who has seen an egret up close will know that they are lovely, elegant white birds. (At least, that's the sort I've been looking at.) They appear flawless: their perfect feathers folded back, their beaks long and straight, tapering to a lovely point. Then they take flight, and they look completely unsuited to the air, their thin necks unbalancing them and their legs flailing like things that flail. Such are novels and the like. They may appear flawless, but they still don't always work as they should. That's why editors exist: so that errors otherwise unseen while the story's on the ground can be taken care of.
This is The Eternal Editor, saying never fear. Never fear, for help is near, your friends can help if you choose to yelp, and this little ditty is really quite sh... bad.
Expect more from me in the future, and remember as you read past and future posts that I have had a hand in the creation of all of them.
Bidding you happy editing, great writings, bubbly plots and birds of all shapes, sizes and colours, this is The Eternal Editor signing off... for now. Muhahahaha...