I gave a writer-friend feedback today and I'm uneasy about it. The piece was wonderful (as usual), but I'm afraid that I may have said something that offended her. See, I have a schadenfreunde who constantly mistakes a request for critique as an opportunity to tear my writing down and I don't want to be like that. I'm probably totally overreacting (as is my wont), so I'll just leave it as it is. But I don't want her to think that I didn't like the story. I just don't know if I got that across or not. Okay- I'm done analyzing it.
This afternoon, I found no less than six more potential places to send my ten-minute plays. Instead of writing neurotic blogs, I should be banging out pages of "Bad Joke". The play is just what it sounds like, too- a bad, sad, and oh-so-tired joke. Why do I feel compelled to write it? Because it's my joke!
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2 comments:
Dude! You are being silly. Your analysis of my work was on the mark, and you always help me see where I can improve. You never, never have to sugar-coat a critique for me. If you say what's in your head and heart, you can't go wrong.
Thanks. You are the wind beneath my psychotic, over-analyzing wings.
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