I can see how, ironically, this might be the case.
One succeeds with writing by being published, which is wonderful, and what most writers want.
By being published, one is more likely to be read. And more likely to have someone not enjoy what they read. The more exposure, the more exposed one might feel.
In my case, at the moment, as truly fantastic journals are accepting a poem here and there, I am both grateful and nervous. I can see all the little flaws and imperfections of the poems, and I think maybe they don't hold their own the way I might like, and the way that I hope future poems could. But on the other hand, I trust the decision of the readers and editors who are publishing me, and I am extremely thankful to them.
So I'm considering it a day like Molly Spencer described in her blog post (nearly 9 years ago) entitled "Today I hate all my poems." What I love most about her entry is the confidence that this feeling is temporary.
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