So, I wrote here about how I was kind of scared of letting other people read stuff I’ve written. (By “stuff,” I mean fiction. – Obviously, I am perfectly comfortable writing about my vagina, periods, mood swings, sex, drinking, desire to throw my children out of a window, etc.)
Well, I finally finished a draft of a story, and I wanted feedback, so I gave the draft to the two people I trust most in the world and asked for feedback. I received some positive verbal feedback from one of them, and requested that she maybe write some of it down on the pages and give it back to me, so that I could remember them (memory is not what it used to be) and so that I could digest them fully. I have seen nothing. This was weeks ago. The other reviewer, who shall also remain nameless, but who knows who he is, has skimmed it, felt uncomfortable that he might be the basis for a character, and told me verbally that he found parts confusing from a setting standpoint. I asked him to read it fully and write some of the contents down. I haven’t seen a thing. It has been almost a month.
What the fuck, people? I put my blood and guts and heart on a piece of paper for you to mark up with a colored goddamn marker (which I would think you would do gleefully), and you don’t even bother to return it to me?
I know you have shit going on. I know you are busy/tired/scared of hurting my feelings. You know what really hurts my feelings? That you must understand that this was a big step for me, and you just left me hanging. If anything says, “I don’t think you are going to be much of a writer,” it is not bothering to take the time to really read what I have written.
I just had to say it, because . . . well, I feel unsupported, and my feelings are hurt. Guilt trip over, but consider your asses busted out on the internet.
p.s. This doesn’t get you out of reviewing the thing. I will expect the copies returned, picked apart, within the week.
