Wednesday, January 2, 2013
The thing is, I really like my writing, but I'm terrified that no one else will.
It's like when my son was born. He was the most beautiful, perfect baby. When the Renaissance guys were painting pictures of cherubs, they used the future glory of my child as a model.
Now, when I look at pictures of him as a newborn, I'm horrified. He looked like that lizard baby from V-
-only he was all red and sweaty.
That's how I feel about my writing. To me it's perfect, but I'm sure everyone else just sees a sweaty, red, lizard baby with spazzy arms and weird facial expressions.
I know babies grow out of that (most of them do anyway), and I know my writing is starting to grow out of it too, but it's still my baby and I still see perfection everywhere I look when I know damn well there are a lot of flaws.
How do you deal with your lizard babies. I'm sorry, I meant your precious little angels?