how can you forget your child?

and by child, i speak of my novel and very first proud achievement in writing, The Muse Land. of course, it used to be set and available for purchase via Blurb, but having undergone so many courses on writing and insight into my own terrible writing flaws, i feel it is best to take it off the shelf and give a piece of literature that is highly developed and meaningful to my readers, as well as the author itself. how can a writer hate their own work? they wrote it, they must accept it for what it is, otherwise make what necessary revisions you feel apply. the modernist view of "the death of the writer" makes sense, in that readers do not get a sense of the author once the work has been published because readers will only read from their relativsim and perspectives. to an extent this is true, because we certainly do not know the reader, we cannot expect what is coming from their writing. and the only way to get into it and become interested in the writing is by holding our reading to our own standards and experiences.

but about the author, they are the creator, after all. regardless on how one contextualizes the themes and setting etc. in the work, the writer's wanting to produce such a work tells you about them that this is stuff they actually and ardently care about. readers may not fully udnerstand the work but by the ending they will see what sort of person the author is. in this case, authoress, and by the time my novel is back on the shelves (and by summer available for Kindle), i sincerely do want to give readers, new and familiar with strange me, the most genuine and best impression of myself.

in the end, i believe that to each work there are two versions that makeup the story: the first draft that came from the heart and purely expresses the author, the second draft that, done by the author's own expense without any external peer reviews and such, portrays these ideas and passions in how the author can relate the story to its best abilities to the readers.