🚀 go-pugleaf

> I ran into an unanticipated anxiety at this point.  

It should be an expected anxiety...

> Now I feel like I'm offering a part of me on a platter for close examination

Which is exactly what you're doing...

> and I'm nervous about what they'll find.

And well you should be!  

> Can anybody relate.

Sure.  I'm from California; they give us classes in that, along with 
freeway etiquette and how to choose a ripe avocado, before allowing 
us to buy surfboards.  So let's look at the gamut of possibilities.

* They'll all say, "God, this is good!" and you can respond, "Oh,
  you can still call me Kevin."

* They'll find flaws and offer stinging but constructive comments 
  that will hurt at first but result in a better manuscript.

* They'll find flaws and offer comments that force you to confront
  the fact that your ms is an unsalvageable piece of merde poo-poo.

* They'll make a variety of comments both good and bad that, when
  taken collectively and in context, make you realize that your pals
  don't know much about literature. Expect at least one of them to
  circle every spelling mistake but fail to follow the plot.

* They'll get off on tangential discussions that may waste your time...
  or may show you where your next book ought to go.

Pick as many of the above as you have friends.

Congratulations on taking a terrifying but necessary step towards
*publishing* your work, which makes the difference between writing
and occupational therapy.  Let us know how it comes out!

Joe
"The pallid pimp of the dead-line/The enervate of the pen" --Robert Service