Do You Like Your Own Writing

This morning, which happened to be a Sunday, I got a nice, slow start on the day, and somewhere around noon, I took my first sip of coffee as I sidled up to my computer.

And then, for the next 15 or 20 minutes, I clicked on one article after another, blissfully reading each one without any purpose other than pleasure.

What a luxury, especially when you consider that the articles I read were all mine!

This wasn't my plan; it just worked out that way.

Do you read your own writing?

Better yet, do you ENJOY your own writing?

Why do you think some people can't stand looking at their own creative output?

I think this is a very provocative question. Some of the great writers, like Hemingway, were beset by the belief that their work was hopelessly flawed.

I know there are some actors that refuse to watch their dailies or even to see the finished films that they've been in.

Perhaps, somewhere, there are painters who never want to look at their own works, once they have put down their brushes.

I don't want to take away a thing form these folks. They could be geniuses.

But I think they're missing perhaps the greatest satisfaction of all; pleasing themselves.

Certainly, I don't like seeing typos that I've negligently scattered here and there, but on the whole, I'm reaching that point where I can be a stranger to my work, and accept these offerings as beings in themselves; as breathing, independent messengers.

Instead of wanting to snuff them, I don't mind kicking back and getting to know them a little better, over a cup of Joe.