Writing is a risky business, the putting into words of things that you would never tell even your closest friend, never mind the rest of the world leaves you wide open to rejection. That rejection if you are attempting to get published, comes in the form of polite letters often kind, telling you not to be discouraged but, and basically the but, however it is worded means they don’t think the book will sell.
You have already confided in your characters your very own thoughts, resentments, jealousies, cold observations and shamefully callous judgments. Sometimes the most secret desires and compulsions that you barely admit to having dreamed up even to yourself are all laid quite bare.
It is fiction but by some mysterious process it is all part of your inner most and often hidden self. You can call it Owning Up.
The curious thing is that not one of my friends who are aware I write in the english language have asked to read anything I have written. This in a way comes as a relief, if published I never intended to use my real name, too cowardly and to avoid the Owning Up. With friends and nowhere to hide I would perhaps never be seen by them again in quite the same light. If this is the very reason why they themselves hold back, or if they are simply not going to put themselves on the spot by having to give an honest if unfavorable opinion I cannot say. In a way I am glad, to face their possible embarrassment or worse, their boredom that they may attempt to conceal kindly but evidently had felt, perhaps by stuffing it a drawer or making endless excuses about not having had time, would I know bring out the worst in me. That would be an affirmation of the rejection letter,they were right; your book would not sell.
The trouble is,I am a bird with perfectly serviceable wings who cannot fly. I can tell myself that RLS slogged away for years before his first book was published, bewailing the fact in frustration untill he alighted on Treasure Island. While I realize I will never be in anywhere the same league at least we have this in common. We are dreamers he and I.