I have read many, many books on writing. I have read countless websites on writing. I have gone to writing groups and writing classes, both collegiate and iconoclastic. While I doubt not the volume of knowledge and understanding I have yet to learn, I can feel my feet under firm earth. I know how to walk and talk. My wings are strong. I can leave the nest.
Yet, I stand on the edge and flap. One piece of repeated advice I cannot seem to master: writers group. I cannot seemingly keep up a relationship with a writer. And because I cannot stand outside myself and judge my performance, I have no idea why.
One writer, whom I invested time in listening to his process and perception, yelled at me for unbidden support. How dare I cheer his progress?
I've had relationships with writers. One was close. I cherished it, until one day the "constructive" criticism came in the form of an unfounded insight. Now, I will say, the insight struck me from out of the blue like lightening. It hurt. A lot. I took a year off from writing to attempt to correct my fallacy, which wasn't a waste because, in the long run, it made me a better writing.
However, what's that old sitcom adage? If everyone has a problem with you, then the problem is you.
I know it's me. It has to be me. If I could only see the plank in my eye to pull it out.
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