I told myself I’d write something every day, because honestly, that’s the only way you get better as a writer. You practice. And practice. And rewrite. And practice. However, if you know me, you know one thing about me: I rarely do anything I’m not good at. I’m not bragging, and I’m not trying to say I’m good at everything. What I’m saying is that I know I suck at tennis, so I don’t play. I know I’m not a great cook, so I don’t plan any dinner parties. It’s a fault, definitely, but I like when people say “Omg, Patsy, that was great! You did such a great job!” I mean, who doesn’t? Which is why writing is so hard. When I wrote as a kid, my teachers praised me. My parents encouraged me. But when I wrote in college and in high school, teachers edited the shit out of my papers and gave me C’s on essays. My parents encouraged me to pursue science. When you pour your heart into a story, it becomes a part of you. It is hard to listen to critiques on your writing and understand that people aren’t critiquing you as a person. They’re only trying to make your story stronger.
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