So, My Friend With The Giant Baby has been pestering me to join her writing club for a while now. She says that it’s basically a snacking club, and in between bites, they read stuff aloud. Now this sounds like a very good club, indeed. However, I have been hesitant to join in, given that I’m so completely petrified of criticism and, on the other end, false praise. I just assume that when you join a snacking writing club, that these are the only two possible outcomes.

Turns out, I’m kind of an idiot.

That’s not how it works at all. And because I finally understand that, I do think that maybe, just maybe, I’m ready to finally join her snacking writing club. She says that The Cheerleader I Live With can come too! Which is cool, because he’s a pretty damn fine writer himself. And apparently, there are other men in the club (husbands and the like), and they all are over 6 feet tall and have beards, just like The Cheerleader I Live With. I’d join the club just to see that!

I trust My Friend With The Giant Baby, and I have no doubt that she’s got my best interests at heart. She knows my fears surrounding the sharing of my work, and she wouldn’t let me walk into an icky situation. And since the snacking writing group is made up of friends of hers, I know that they’ll be kind, and understanding of my hesitancy.

So, now that I trust friends and strangers, I just need to jump in and trust my writing skills. I can do that. I think. Maybe.

I think I’m going to need a lot of snacks…