You know what makes me completely uncomfortable? I am talking uncontrollably squeamish, not just a compulsive-small-talk-until-the-elevator-reaches-the-next-floor kind of uncomfortable.
It is unbearable for me to watch someone as they read something written by me.
The beauty of having blog is that I write alone, post my musings or B.S., whichever is the order of the day, then I just leave it there and whatever happens next is up to the world. You read it if you want to and I go on with my life, having cleared my thoughts and memories like Dumbledore with his Pensieve.
Since there is mixed company and I have real-life friends who have are blog-loyalists, occasionally one of them will check it in my presence. It's almost like watching a car accident- you don't want to look, but you do, you want to make sure everything is okay, followed by: Are they laughing? Is there a spelling or grammatical error that is glaringly obvious? Shouldn't they be done reading by now? Are they faking a reaction because I'm sitting right here?
And worst of all: What if they hate it?
I was in a situation at work recently, after having worked on a project, where I had to literally sit across from someone as they poured over every word I had written. I didn't know how uncomfortable I was watching someone read my work until I realized that I could not follow my instinct to get up and leave or hide behind a filing cabinet until they were done. I cringed, trying to gauge a reaction and pretended to find my legal pad fascinating as I waited for a response. Like watching a crucial at-bat, a putt in sudden death or a game-changing field goal, I didn't want to look for fear that doing so would ruin everything. If there is any part of me that likes facing confrontation, I still haven't found it yet.
The experience was good for me, the response to my work was positive, and made me think that if I desire to write more seriously or professionally, I need to get used to some editing. Just don't make me watch, okay?
There is but one art, to omit.
-Robert Louis Stevenson