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Heard a phrase that really struck me:

“The part of us we’re hiding is the part people will love the most.” SARK

Gut reaction, the place I’m at right now, I’m not so sure about that. THere’s a reason I’m hiding it. I don’t people to see that side, that part, that detail. To be proven and exposed as imperfect and evil would be the worst thing. Then I thought about it. When I have confessed something in my writing or been completely honest, part of me is afraid of being judged. I’ve just shared how I feel and someone’s going to say I’m wrong or a bad person. But people have agreed with me. People have had the same thoughts but they haven’t been able to say them. They have enjoyed that work more because I’ve been honest.

I do have an imaginary audience, filled with critics. Growing up an English major and duking it out for four years with English majors, I know us. There are nice ones, there are evil ones. We take novels and shred them like a chew toy given to a pit bull. When we like the books we break them down to their parts like dissembling a machine and spreading all the gears and pieces on the floor. we put them back together marvelling at the manufacture and how they fit together. Sometimes we end up with a piece left over after we’ve put it all back together. How did that happen? What about this? It’s something significant and it may turn our analysis on its head.

I am afraid when I publish my book, people I know will be disappointed. “I expected more,” they’ll say. “She’s always had execution issues.” I’m afraid my writing will be too juvenile for them and for me. I do hold a high bar and I expect to meet it. Falling short would be the worst thing ever. How is trying and not making it lovable? It’s been suggested to me if it was someone else would you love them less? If my best friend tried and fell short…First, my best friend is more amazing than I am. She doesn’t fall short. Second, of course not because I adore her. She’s not me. If a child tried and didn’t meet their goal …No, because they are young and you have to encourage them to try again.

If I can’t love my worst, who can? I’m the only one who can. What can I say to some of my critics? “I’m published. What are you up to?”