God save me from the 26-year-old editors
I'm not a religious person, but tonight I have one prayer and one prayer only: "Please God, please save me from the 26-year-old editors." It's not that I'm jealous of their toned penmanship and taut critiques, their uber-slim fonts and invisibly small mobile phones ...It's something bigger. These 26-year-olds are taking over the publishing industry. Everyone who is not Arianna Huffington -- wait, does Arianna have one n or two? Ah, who cares -- or Anna Wintour is under 30. Because they are under 30 and were raised on laptops and notebooks and iPods and now iPads and Blackberries, these brats think they know everything. Last week, the problem was an idiot copyeditor at YeHaw (not the real name, but use your imagination) who changed everything I wrote in a stupid format-style piece of content I never should have stooped to write, and then when they edited my bio they spelled the word "writings" as "writngs." That's right - no second "