Some people create and never share. They Emily Dickinson their work into proverbial dressers and file it away for whoever finds it (or never does). I don’t have any problem with this method, there’s an honest self-preservation to it, but I think creativity deserves to see the light of day.

Not because it’ll be loved. Not because it’ll be spit on.

Just because anybody can have a thought in their head, but in a world moved by inspiration of all stripes, if you’ve got some, what’s wrong with sharing it?

Here’s what feels wrong. As only Ray Bradbury could nail it, within a single sentence:

When you share your work, even if it’s strictly in a public forum with zero expectation (like what I’m doing here in my Personal Archive), you open yourself up to feedback.

Somebody might say something that hurts your feelings and - such is contact with the world. Such is contact with the enemy.

But also, somebody might say something nice. Or, better - somebody might say they were inspired. One person saying a thing you wrote moved them and I assure you, it’s worth it.

Sharing is accepting the option of being rejected.

People are mean, and yes it sucks to be reminded of it, but if you’re not mean you have to assume there are others like you and what better way to find them than by sharing a piece of yourself?

Because sharing is also rejecting the option of being accepted.

In the broadest sense, of course.

You have to let go of accepting and rejecting. You don’t have to not care, you don’t have to hate it, you don’t even have to love it.

You just have to let it go.

Bradbury nailing it - the whole trick is in the knowing, of how to accept rejection and reject acceptance - it’s all the reminder you need.

ps. Extra Rocky Horror: Don’t dream it, be it.