I gave the first 55 pages of "Copper Penny" to Melody Groves yesterday. She's a local author and critiques manuscripts for money. If she says these are good, then I'll pay her to read all of it. But I'm holding my breath.
I've been in three critique groups and none of the three have told me the writing is bad/good/wonderful, the characters are bad/good/wonderful, the tension is bad/good/wonderful. If they have, they've made suggestions to make it better. But they all know me. Somehow I need someone who doesn't know me to give me a totally unbiased opinion.
When I gave her the pages, I realized just how insecure I am with my writing. I wonder if all writers feel the same way. Being so close to it, I honestly don't know if it is good or not. When I read another author who is REALLY good, then I shake my head in wonder at how someone can write like that.
I've read three books by Geraldine Brooks lately. She is phenomenal. People who can weave stories like she does make me want to close the lid on my keyboard and take up knitting (except that I have arthritis in my hands and it hurts to do that all the time.)
A lot of people read my first book--"The Demise of Bobby Mac." Many raved to me about it. Some I didn't hear from. In my book discussion group, some didn't bother to read it. I guess they thought it wouldn't be worth their time. (Insecurity rears it's ugly head!)
I told Melody I want the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I'll let you know what she says.
By the way, I checked and my shirt is on the right way today.