I love hanging out with you, you know that?
I picture one of these all-female gatherings* where we're drinking margaritas and talking about something we've read, except it's the thing that I wrote and you're telling me what needs work on it.
It doesn't bother me that you're telling me that page 72 confused you or that my words are too big (hi, Sheri! You're right!) It doesn't bother me because you're in the spirit of helping me, and because I get to show off something that's important to me.
You go, girls, and I owe you all dinner.
* All my beta-readers are female. Whose fault is that, men? Where are my male beta-readers? There's plenty of margaritas for all of us.
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