That being said, there are two authors I hate worst of all, and I am editing one of them now. A.D.A. Dragondyre, that odious hack, has crapped out another five-hundred page insult to the concept of human communication, complete with botched French, endless descriptions of chess games, and three types of women: young beauties, useful matrons, and evil hags. Dragondyre's books all read like Tolkien fanfic written by an Objectivist with a brain injury, and he is more famous than I or anyone I know will ever be. If you happen to note that I am lacking my customary sunny disposition, this may be why.
When I'm editing a particularly horrible book I find that two things help. One is the justly famous Winnebago Man, who is not safe for work. On the other end of the spectrum is this picture of a newborn rat:
The rat pup is a still center. The rat pup wants me to be calm. Winnebago Man could have used a rat pup, I think.