I've been thinking about my baby sister a lot today. Well, not so much about her, as much as a funny little quirk she had when she was younger. I believe it was when she was playing for her little kiddie basketball team. (Sadly, I could not find a picture of that. I had to go with soccer.) She was about 8 years old. After one game, she laid down the law with us. She did not want us to yell things like, "Hustle! Shoot! Faster! Defense!"
No, not for our little princess. Come to think of it, her first nickname was not "Little Princess." It was "Little Stink," until she kindly let us know that other daddies (she had this conversation with my dad, not me) called their little girls things like, "Little Princess," and "Beautiful." (Being me, I decided not to call her Little Princess. I took my queue from "Lord of the Rings" and "Gollum," and chose to call her "My Precious.")
Our Little Princess, who never lacked a good sense of self confidence, mandated that we only yell supportive cheers at her basketball games, and nothing demanding, directive, or critical. Cheers such as, "Good Job!" "Go Steph!" and "Let's Go, Wildcats!" were permitted. I cannot remember if, "Come On!" was allowed or not. She declared that all other "cheers" were distracting and not helpful.
The reason for the recall of this (family favorite) memory is not hard to figure out. It's not buried too far down in the subconscious this time. My book. It's out there. And that means I get to open myself up to the criticism of the world.
Granted, I've developed a rather thick skin over the past year since I've been writing professionally more often. Sometimes when I write something slightly edgy I get excited for the crazy responses. But when I write something personal, I dread it.
Putting my book (MY BABY!) out there for the world to see, knowing full well that the politics and quiet message of the book, are not going to go over well with *some* people.
Not to mention, sometimes it is the feedback from the well-meaning people that you really don't want to hear.
Oh how I wish I could invoke the Little Princess Feedback Policy.
(note: I've turned off the comments on this post, lest anyone thinks I am fishing for compliments or comments.)