I recently had the opportunity to be a guest at a creative writing class for kids and we somehow got onto the topic of critiques.
I told one girl that, as a writer, you really wouldn't want everyone to love what you write, because some people are just not meant for your stuff. Makes sense, right? It's kind of like the suspicious 100% voter turnout rate that we sometimes hear about from totalitarian states. You know something is wrong there.
Anyway, Jack is in an extremely pissed-off and anxious mood today, despite all the contrived celebratory atmosphere behind the festival (especially here in California).
See... here's the thing... or, part of the thing: I'm in this real quandary right now about substance and execution.