So I learned that my best effort is indeed a first draft. I am very grateful for my little writers' community. They read carefully, gave a lot of time and thought to every sentence, and kindly but firmly identified habits of mind that my writing revealed. I could not have described those habits, but I recognized them right away; for example, many negative assumptions about artists and at the same time a fear of offending them. I recognize the finger-wagging nature of some of my wording, disguised (so I thought) in a humorous story. It turns out these stories come across as sarcasm, not humor. Duh.
After a short time in shock at how very much the chapter did not read as I wanted it to, I felt a great relief at knowing people who are perceptive enough to analyze how it went wrong and brave enough to tell me. I am a happy woman.
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