Until very recently, I hadn’t given myself permission to write lyrically. I tend to strip my prose bare, even though I write to an internal metronomic beat. In the interests of constantly trying to improve my writing, I’ve begun exploring areas I previously feared. Perhaps because of a strong case of imposter syndrome, there were places I simply didn’t go.

So today I was determined to allow my inner poet to emerge while revising a partial.

I like what I wrote, but I don’t know whether or not it works. Does it sound like human-shaped padding added to a bone-dry skeleton? I’m unsure if the butterflies in my stomach are a =good= thing — KC