I was invited out to an open mic at the library this week. I steeled myself for the journey. I have a completed first draft of a non-fiction book in my possession. Was I ready to hang it out there in the wind? Sure, you only live once, I told myself.
So I gave it a go, and it turned out good as gold. I aired my dirty laundry and it felt good. Feedback from the audience was like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. I received several compliments about the content and my delivery. I came home grinning like a Cheshire cat.
I sat down at the computer and read over my piece one more time for good measure. Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. Imagine my surprise to find, horror of horrors, at least three cliche or idiom phrases in the piece I had read. As an editor, I would have nipped those in the bud. But as a writer, I had been completely in the dark.
That’s okay. I won’t sweat it. No man (or woman) is an island. I’m looking forward to sitting on the other side of the table.