“If I were your father and I had given you the money for all your travels and these were the letters you wrote to me, I’d want my money back.” The one-on-one critique with my writing workshop teacher began with these words. I correctly surmised that he thought my prose was subpar. It wasn’t a surprise.

My fellow writers shared their sentiments too: “Your words are vague.” “I’ve never traveled and from reading this I don’t understand why you do.”  “Your vocabulary alienates me, rather than invites me in.” “Where are you? I want to feel as if I am there with you and I don’t.”

I touched few people recounting my tales of traveling through the world. I found this ironic. I began the blog to not only share my experiences, but to inspire others to travel too.

One woman however called my pieces, “Zen gems.” Another, who had traveled alone throughout the world said, “You describe what it’s like to observe your surroundings. I immediately related to it.” Nonetheless, the consensus was unenthusiastic.

It would have been foolish to ignore any of these comments and I didn’t.

Humbled, but not discouraged, I wrote anew hoping to please a wider audience while remaining true to myself. I included more dialogue and description. I made an effort to bring the reader “there.” My style felt less personal and unique, but the response was more favorable.

I still cherish my “Zen gems.”

And the desire to hone my craft remains.