Nonetheless, I have a hard time not punishing myself: not staring into the mirror and shouting, "You are not a genius!" I have a hard time not bundling my manuscripts into the woodstove. If there were no awards, I wouldn't feel this way. But because there are, I excoriate myself.
So, once again, I have to dig myself out of the hole. I have to remember the covenant I make to myself, day after day. Dawn, I swear I will not burn those manuscripts. I swear I won't even light the stove.