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Everyone’s got comfort items.

For instance, in the days right after Sep. 11, 2001, when it seemed like every stranger on the street might suddenly turn and attack me for the way I look — and a few actually did, though only verbally, thankfully — I was up to two and sometimes three cans of Coke a day.

I didn’t really need the extra sugar. I just found something relaxing about that damned red can.

Right now, my item is literature.

I dropped by the bookstore tonight in search of Bertrand Russell’s The Conquest of Happiness and Studs Terkel’s Working.

Take from that what you will.

Actually, though I’m a fan of Russell, I hadn’t heard of The Conquest of Happiness until I started reading the bibliography to Scott Berkun’s The Art of Project Management the other day. The title may make it sound dry, but trust me: Berkun’s book should be standard issue for anyone who works in an office.

Anyhow, the bookstore didn’t have The Conquest, but I happened to walk past Bill Clinton’s My Life, which is now in paperback, and I couldn’t help picking it up.

A few steps later, I walked by the audio version. On the package it said “Read by the Author.”

Of course, I had to get it. If there is any more comforting voice than his, I have yet to hear it.

I’m still amazed by the fact that I can immediately recognize my own words, no matter how long ago I wrote them. For instance, a couple years ago, I was working with the TV on in the background and overheard a quote from a movie review I had written. The quote was being used in a commerical and, sure enough, there was my name on the screen. Just nine words, spoken by someone else over the air, and I knew exactly when I’d written them and why.

The opposite is also true: I can tell you exactly when words that are supposed to be my own aren’t. Just this afternoon, I pulled up an old article for reference and realized right away that the first sentence had been rewritten sometime between the moment I filed the story with my editors and the time it was published.

I can’t explain it. There’s just something about your own cadence that you always recognize. It’s something that breaks when someone else touches your story, even if it’s only to add a single word.

Good editors know this. And when they have to make changes to your story, they do their best to match your rhythm. If they’re great, they can get an edit past you without you even noticing.

Bad editors, on the other hand, are easy to spot because they try to rewrite your story to match their own rhythm.

I’ll bet you that it’s written down somewhere that anyone with a blog must make a “pet peeve” post at least once in their lifetime. And since I’m not one to argue with requirements that may or may not be written down, here’s my obligatory pet peeve post:

If you say you’re going to do something by a certain time, then do it. And if, for some reason, it looks like you’re going to be late, then say so before the deadline. That’s all I ask.

These are simple words to live by, my friend. Adhere to them and you will go far. And you will annoy me far less.