Oh, keep your peeves to yourself
I don’t think I’ve ever contributed to anyone’s list of pet peeves. The whole concept is deeply suspect.
Think of the word peevish. Think of old Mr. Woodhouse in Emma, querulous (but not quite petulant) and preoccupied with trifles, someone who must be humored by everyone else.
Or look again at that phrase pet peeve — some personal preference that is caressed and indulged.
In writing and editing, there is nothing wrong with indulging in innocent individual preferences. I’m particularly irritated by the journalistic taboo against putting an adverb between the auxiliary and main verb — writing always has written instead of has always written. It is not, strictly speaking, an error of grammar, but it is awkward and non-idiomatic syntax. If I have time to change it while editing, I do so, and no one has ever complained. (And if you read over has ever complained just now without finding it amiss, you see how idiomatic English is written.)
It is when personal preferences are elevated to rules and arbitrarily imposed that both writers and editors lose perspective on the work. This is why it is salutary to look at people like Bryan Garner and Bill Walsh on the prescriptivist side, and Mark Liberman and Arnold Zwicky on the descriptivist side at Language Log,* to gauge whether those preferences are innocent or misguided.
For the record, a little zeal in opposing something that is manifestly wrong does not qualify as a peeve.
*All of whom, by the way, are in agreement in denouncing the “split verb” superstition.