One friend, one I was most anxious to share my accomplishment with, never read the book. Each time we talked, I held my breath…would she like it? Was she not bringing it up because she hated it? Did she think it was too stupid to comment on? After several weeks of not hearing a word from her about it, I finally lost all composure and blew up. Why hadn’t she read it? Didn’t she understand how important it was to me? She gave me several excuses…that she had been too busy, that she had started it but hadn’t had time to read it. I wonder now if she had been worried about having to be honest with me about it. What if she HAD read it and didn’t like it? What kind of position would she have been in then? How would she tell me?
Now the book has become a sensitive topic for both of us. I still don’t know if she’s read it. Now that I have an agent, and now that it seems the book could actually be published, we can’t seem to talk about it.
I never should have asked her to read it. I should have relied on my writing group, the trusted few whose work I admired, the ones who I could count on to comment and suggest in a way that didn’t make it a personal issue.
I know now who to ask to read. My sister, my writing group, my agent and that’s it.
Everyone else can wait.