As much as I need to send the hopeful, green shoots of my writing into the world, I never forget this: even in the best of times, some of my writing has to take place underground.
Writing only for myself changed me (and my writing) forever.
Writing in public is like shuffling barefoot over loose, black earth. As delicious and all-consuming as it feels, you’re not really all-in. You’re still on the surface. An entire world is wriggling, pulsing and expanding just under your toes--and if you only write for others, you’ll tread on in oblivion.
The world opens up under your feet when you start writing alone. When you keep some of your writing only for you. When you reserve even a small part of your writing for your eyes only--without publishing, sharing or showing.