If you write or paint or do anything creative, you reach a point where you pretty much need to put it out there and invite people to
take potshots give their opinion about it. Unless you keep your work locked into a closet somewhere, of course – but that seems both selfish and cowardly, and ultimately unfulfilling.
It’s a bit like being naked in public. Yes, that dream, that horrible dream where you’re in class and you’ve forgotten your homework and everyone is laughing at you because you’re naked. That one, exactly.
So I imposed on family and asked them to read my poor book. And then I almost had a panic attack. Sitting in class naked? It would almost be easier.