I Don’t Have Balls
As I stated in an earlier post I don’t have balls. This isn’t just a literal fact, it’s a figurative one as well. And anyone in the writing world knows if you want to write you need a BIG pair. Preferably made of brass.
When the time came for me to ask for a review of my book my first inclination was to look for someone who I thought would give me a good one. But my Hemingway brand strap-on ballsack told me that if I couldn’t handle honesty in a review I might as well just give up and become a greeter at Wal-Mart (there’s nothing wrong with that, but those people are way too happy).
So I sacked up and went looking. And found Megan. Call it fate or Karma or glorious divine intervention but I was delivered to the blog of the sweetest, eighteen-going-on-thirty year-old I’d ever had the pleasure of meeting online. Megan willingly read my book and gave me an HONEST review (both the review and her blog are listed below). She confirmed what I thought was the weakest part of my book and surprisingly loved the parts that I thought were going to be the hardest sell. She didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear to make herself feel good, she told me what I NEEDED to hear to make me a better writer. Pretty ballsy for eighteen, let me tell you.
Check out her blog for some astonishingly insightful relationship advice from an up and coming writer. And don’t worry, she’ll be gentle.