Why I Don’t Let My Mother Read My Writing

If you’ve been following me for a while, you’ll know that I love my Mama.

And why not?

My mama’s pretty awesome…not only did she raise me for decades without tossing me out the window, she also took the time to teach me stuff, like how to read and cook food that is edible. Sort of.

But there is ONE thing my mom used to do when I was a kid that irked. me. no. end:

Sometimes, she would start to tell me a story and then change her mind and say I was too young to understand “things” about the adult world.

For an insatiably curious kid, that’s like giving a baby a lollipop…and then snatching it back, heartlessly ignoring her pitiful cries of pain.

So as revenge, when I grew up and started to write, I told my mum that she was not allowed to read my writing.

Muahaha.

Just kidding.

The reality is, I don’t let my mother read my writing because I read it TO her myself.

When we visit, I let her rest her eyes while I read her things that I’ve written especially for her (a Mother’s Day poem, a funny story, etc).

These are writings that only SHE gets to have, because they were written FOR her. No one else — not my friends, not my enemies, not even my own dad gets to access this content that I created only for Mom.

Likewise, there really are some writings that I don’t let my mom read. Not because I don’t trust her, but because they weren’t written for her, and won’t help her anyway.

Which brings me to the most important reason why I tell people to unsubscribe from my email list:

I create special stuff just for Brilliant Writers, and I don’t want voyeuristic eyeballs peeking in on our pow-wows.

That’s why I do my best to weed out bottom-feeder freebie-seekers before I get into the real fun stuff.

Simple as that.

After all, as Jesus once said, “don’t cast your pearls before swine.”

That’s why it doesn’t make sense to write in order to please everyone. Or to let everyone read everything you write.

Not even your mother.