or when your anxiety plagues your writing.
sure, the character had anxiety. that part made sense. it was a new idea, a new spark.
after finishing a sample chapter one, i asked a few friends to proofread it.
after one friend left her comments on it, my brain exploded with stress. she didn't understand so much of it, as if she wasn't reading the simplest things camping in between the lines.
the thought that i might be bombarded with more of these misunderstanding comments tomorrow scared the shiz out of me.
"just drink some tea and promise me you'll be fine," one friend said.
i can't ever promise that i'll be fine at all. it'd end up being a lie.
YOU ARE READING
Smart Girl
Não Ficçãothoughts from the smart girl. //the journal of wren// //highest rank #2 in non fiction// //all names of real people interacted with here are altered from their original versions for privacy's sake//
