I Let Myself Down

Recently, I picked up a copy of a story I wrote way back in 2012. I read it mostly because I didn’t recall writing it and I discovered a few things about myself.

First, I’m not a bad writer. I actually like my stories and given some time and distance from the birthing process I find them enjoyable to read. No, I’m not perfect, but who the hell is? And no, I can’t spell my way out of a paper sack, but that’s what editing and revision are supposed to correct.

The second thing I realized was ...