I spent most of this Saturday editing a massive horror novel my brilliantly talented husband has written, thus bringing up the subject of professional jealousy in our household. And I’d say it was rampant.

I’ve been Bruce’s first editor from the time we met. He, on the other hand, seldom reads anything I have written. By myself, that is. Often we write together, which means mainly we plot together and he does the actual writing, though not always.

Frankly, I hate to write. I just happen to love what I have written, and often it comes out of the blue anyway and it’s like reading it for the first time. The advantage to being Bruce’s first editor is that I get to read his stuff before anyone else does. The disadvantage is, when I’m editing Bruce’s book, I’m not writing my own.

You’d think that professional jealousy would not rear…