Familial Critique

There's nothing quite like knowing someone else you know, respect, care about, love - is reading your work. It's not the same as faceless agents or editors. It's literally like opening the deepest part of yourself, the parts that you have successfully kept from them, and then waiting to see if they still respect, care about, and love you. I always try to read their facial expressions or body language. To try to gage if the words that I think are so charming, engaging, riveting are having any impact on them whatsoever. And then of course, there's the people who know me too well and try to contradict the untruths of my poetry and I find myself justifying and explaining that I've conflated events or downright changed them to fit the poem I was writing. That although most of my poems are narrative and semi-autobiographical, they aren't always inherently factual. And I'm torn between wanting to justify my words and having them just love them because they love me. And then alternately wanting them to love them because they are good and know that they would love them even if they weren't mine. Ultimately, I find comfort in having my words read by strangers instead - knowing that my words stand on their own, without me. And I never have to worry about misrepresenting or upsetting someone right before the holidays with a semi-autobiographical poem.

My son, Kayden, one of my favorite critics.