Art is very personal, so when it’s judged harshly, it’s a blow right to the heart.
I can only equate it with one’s child who’s casually criticized.
So what does the overly sensitive writer do…hide her prose like porn under the bed? Decide to keep it secret, never allowing the world privy to such a private place?
At the very least, grow tougher skin?
Mine should be like Velcro by now, yet it’s not.
So I ask again, what does the writer do, overly sensitive or otherwise when someone stabs one’s prose through the heart?
I hear murmurings.
“Take your broken heart, make into art.” Carrie Fisher.