My Favorite Reader

I’ve got a favorite. I do. I know we aren’t supposed to have them. But, pooh pooh on that.

There is one person who I am giddy to have read what I write. Well, I get giddy about him for other reasons, too. He’s one heck of a looker.

Jeff and me and the contract for My Mother's Chamomile
Jeff and me and the contract for My Mother’s Chamomile

Jeff is my favorite reader. Why? Because he knows me like no one else does. He watches as I sit and click and delete and agonize and try again. He is the one who cheers loudest and with the biggest smile when I succeed. And he’s the one who tells me to keep going when I feel defeated.

My favorite reader finished My Mother’s Chamomile last night. He’s an intentional reader. Plus, he’s got me spying on him as he reads, asking him where he is in the story. Poor fella.

When he finished, he looked at me and told me that it was a good book. And that I’m a good writer.

Friends, I know he’s obligated to say these things via the “you best do these things” clause of our marriage license. But, if you know Jeff, you’ll know that he never says a darn thing he doesn’t mean.

Guess what my favorite reader’s words did. They made me want to keep writing.

Ah. It’s good to have such a good favorite.

Your turn. Who cheers you on? Who do you love to have encourage you? Are you that person for someone else?


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