If you’ve written something other than a story, or if you’ve created something that’s not a piece of writing, you may want to share it.
If you’ve written a story, you may NOT want to share it. You may have just cringed in visceral reaction at the idea that you’d share.
Because it would be flawed.
Because it would be incomplete.
Because sharing feels like a risk at the best of times.
Or maybe you’d come to feel that the act of it would give your readers a glimpse into a facet of you, raw and unfinished, that they might love to see.
Maybe you’d want to see whether it might also help to kind of muffle the voice of that often-cutting inner critic, just knowing that you put something so brave and different out there, something that you can’t see as a thing but just as a misshapen collection of flaws MacGyvered together with a bit of mental rubber band.
However, the sharing isn’t actually the point.
The point is in the creative exercice itself. It’s in the idea that you’re allowing yourself to have and to develop, to tease out and to grow in one and the same sitting.
It’s in breaking the shackles of what you keep thinking your writing should be, and instead trying to make it into a process you simply enjoy. Like that. In and of itself. Just for the sake of it.
Can you imagine the freedom of it already?