All for the Want of an Editor

On Friday I picked up a pile of crappy men's adventure novels at Half Price Books, and I've been slowly working through them. Tonight, as I reached the end of The Penetrator #29: Aryan Onslaught by Lionel Derrick, I came across the following gem...

For the time being, though, his mind returned to the momentary happiness he could capture. His mouth watered at the image of buttery trout, frying in a cast-iron skillet and the tender arms and satin skin of one who loved him. (p. 164)

Wow. The Penetrator sure has an interesting cooking technique. I'd try it myself, but I'm running low on loved ones and I'd like to save them for when I'm preparing something fancy, like a yellowfin tuna nicoise.

There are so many things wrong with that sentence I don't know where to begin. At first I thought that everything could be fixed by moving the comma from its current position to right after "cast-iron skillet," but that still leaves the Penetrator with an odd craving for human flesh. The best solution would be to completely scrap the sentence and start over from scratch.

Then again, tighter editorial controls would have robbed me of about five minutes of pure, unbridled hilarity...

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