THIS. This is why I always hesitate to read work by friends. And reading books by strangers does not require that we give those authors validation in any form other than cold, hard cash - no "Likes," no polite murmurings, no gushing praise - nor does it put us in the awkward position of crushing a friend's spirit through honestly admitting that whatever it was we just read really wasn't our cuppa, and we're not eager to read anything else they've written. At least not till this one's out of mind, a while.

I'm okay with it. What I'm not okay with is my tendency to shy away from writers' work after they've become friends - after I already know they write well, but on the off chance I may one day read something that forces me to admit I'm not an unconditional fan of every droplet of ink that drips from their pens. Because I have seen the crushed look on a face or two, and I haven't got it in me to lie.

Personally, there's only ONE reader whose negative opinion of my work could cut me to the quick - and I'm married to him. He has never, not once in 36 years, asked to read a work in progress or any manuscript until I offer it up to him - usually about the time it's been published or offered a contract or given an award. And never once has he crushed my spirit with an unkind word. But he could, and he knows it, and so not even asking is a kindness.