The Reason

I'm not a professional.

Over the years, there really have been only two, maybe three people who've been encouraging. You know, they take the time out to criticize and analyze and opine over something I've created. I seek them out, these sort of opinions, no from just anyone, because I need to see where it is that I'm missing something, where is it that a story makes sense or loses it's momentum. Things like these, you see. But the problem I've run into for nearly twenty years is, apparently, you can't ask your family and friends and teachers and classmates and significant others to do this for you. Seems to me as if they can't be bothered but are too damn frightened to say so.

Recently, someone I know emailed me a story a friend of hers had written. She asked me if I would read it and I said I would because why wouldn't I? Read it, and after a few weeks, she and I got together and she asked me what I thought about the story and I told her. I asked her what she thought and then revealed to me she hadn't read it. Of course, the opinion and critique isn't the point. I was so hurt by her revelation. I didn't think it was fair at all to her friend. I took her indifference personally. But it was only the most recent example of what always happens.

Why is it more difficult to ask someone to look at and examine a piece of work that isn't a song or a photograph or painting? Why is it so difficult for people to treat a piece of writing in the same manner? Are people really so lazy that they can't be bothered to read a few thousand words? What is wrong with their attention spans? Why do people--some close to me and some not--make me feel as if I'm asking for a serious commitment from them when all they only seem to want are one-night stands?

It reminds me of something Douglas Coupland wrote:

"Most of the people in your life don’t read anything, so they probably won’t read your book, and even if they do, all they’re looking for is bits that sound like themselves."