There’s nothing like the feeling of pride you get when you see your published work. It’s always worth it when you find that the hours of emotion and ceaseless self-criticism you put into a character and their trials actually ended in something. Something that, no matter what any other person says, you can be proud of.

Being a writer, you can expect to have people take your words and throw them back in your face with the laugh of one with no experience. You can expect to have your work falsely praised and critiqued with no one ever really quite getting what you meant. You can expect to cry when the stories end and bang your head against the wall when you find that the entirety of an hour’s work can fit in a single sentence.

You can’t expect everyone to love your writings. You can’t expect the people you so lovingly protected to survive in an even harsher adventure of criticism. You can’t expect to have your emotions respected by everyone.

Being a writer is bearing your soul with just the right words.