The Subversive Copy Editor, bless her heart, addresses the issue of whether editors are creative. We know that writers are, bless their hearts, when they aren’t off drinking cocktails with Scott and Zelda or running with the bulls at Pamplona with Hem. We editors just sit quietly at the chimney corner, mumbling to ourselves.

(Of course, I myself am among the writers with the largest audience in Baltimore, larger than the combined audiences of Taylor Branch, Anne Tyler, and the other local luminaries: For more than twenty years I have been writing front-page headlines for The Baltimore Sun, texts read every day by hundreds of thousands of readers. Top that.)

But even if you mistakenly disallow any creativity to editors, you will ultimately have to confess your need for us. You may be a racecar driver, but you will need mechanics. We, the editors, are the people you must turn to when there is something amiss in the works, and we are the ones to lift the hood for a look.

We can fix that annoying rattle, and when you worry why the “CHECK ENGINE” light comes on and won’t go off, we can find the trouble and fix it. We make sure that your brakes work. When you burn out the transmission, we rebuild it. When you smash into something, we do the body work.

And if you really want it to look nice, we’ll detail it for you.