I blogged a poem about childhood abuse yesterday and shuddered at the possible response. People do not like to read these things, I imagined.
On the contrary people have been kind, as so often happens in the blogosphere. I should respond to you all and soon enough I will.
After I had posted my abuse poem, I asked myself, was it by way of abuse of my audience, that I should inflict on them something of that painful experience, that I should make them squirm and feel uncomfortable.
So the very fact of putting writing out there, presenting it to an audience for their ‘consumption’ might well be akin to putting a meal on the table that you hope your guests will enjoy, even as you know it might be unfamiliar to them, too many foreign flavours, or could it be you have added too much pepper, too much spice and the flavours clash with the predictability of their palates and they cannot take in what you have offered them?
Why is it that when we write about something, we are often seen to be doing it?