If you don't like to read whiny posts, skip this one.
So, I finished a new story last week. A story that I really like. Well, I like all my stories at first. I should know better than to let them out in the world before they are ready.
My wife read it. She is a great reader of my work. If I have an IR (intended reader) in mind when I write, it is usually her. I want to entertain her. The story did that. She liked it, but being a good reader of my work requires more than just "I like it dear" and "Oh, that is nice." It requires the guts to tell me that the story is not done and that it needs to be re-written.
She is correct. The story needs to be re-written. I have a narrator who sounds like he is from the late 1800's early 1900's telling a story about a tattoo shop in Minneapolis' present. It doesn't work.
I hate it when my stories don't work. Ugh...It is like having a zit on the tip of your nose that is ready to pop and turning black and blue. It is like being kicked in the balls and told that your not a man or a writer, but a pile of squirrel shit. It is like...
Anyway...Time to buck-up and get back at it.