But then what would they superciliously lecture you on to feel like they made a difference from their tiny insignificant corner of the world?

I think a lot of people misread intent. No one is policing your conversations in your living room, but if you’re an author (of any medium of art) your work necessarily interfaces with an audience (arguably you can create art without anyone else ever seeing it, let’s take that as read) — if you’re attempting to communicate with an audience its naive to think they won’t have opinions on it, or that it can’t be improved.

I like to imagine if you said this to James Joyce, or Georges Perec, Marcel Proust, William Shakespeare, Truman Capote, Samuel Beckett (or other authors known for being exacting) … They could get pissy about it sure, but they could also say “What an excellent point, I could be way more specific, accurate and poetic in my prose.”

While you are absolutely entitled to your opinion, do you not think it’s a fruitful line of enquiry in terms of literary criticism and dramaturgy, similar to how using “nice” as every adjective is considered unimaginative?