I’ve come to understand that real writing doesn’t even begin until the crappy writing is on the page. Only then do I have the breathing room to go back and shape it into something as good as I can make it—at the level I’m currently writing. Sure, part of the process is about refining, growing, and striving to get better. But sometimes those early, unpolished pieces have a kind of raw beauty—so pure and unadorned they shine with a quiet luster. And sometimes, after all the polishing, the piece can feel a little too perfect, a little overworked, and somehow less alive.

Over time, I’ve noticed a few truths about my writing, especially based on the response I get from readers on my blog:

1. If I think the writing is brilliant, it rarely gets the response I’d hoped for.
2. If I write from pure sincerity, readers will usually respond—even if the piece isn’t perfect.
3. If I bare my soul, some readers will squirm, but others will thank me.
4. If I write about something that really matters to me—from a beautiful night in the orange grove to the loss of my siblings—readers tend to circle close.
5. If I wax poetic on a philosophical point I find important, forget it. Nobody wants to read it.
6. If I post a picture of my grandchildren, I’ll likely get more responses than anything I’ve written.
7. If one person tells me they like, love, or appreciate my writing, I’m good to go for at least another week.
8. I never ask my husband’s opinion about my writing, and I only bring it up with my kids if they mention it first—too much pressure for high-fives.
9. On the rare occasions when I truly love something I’ve written, it’s usually simple, sincere, and about my childhood or relationships. Readers tend to love those pieces, too.
10. Ultimately, the writing has to be for me. I’m always aware that I don’t yet have the skill to say exactly what I want to say, the way I want to say it.

When I start giving myself a hard time, I try to remember these truths. Then I write something that may or may not measure up to my standards and hit SEND (because I’ve got a blog deadline). Later, I often return to those pieces, clean them up, and submit them for publication. That approach has worked out fairly well so far.

Hope this is helpful. Time to write—and let the worry fall away.