…After it’s published.
When I tell people I like to write, the next thing out of their mouths is always, “Can I read your book?!” While it’s quite flattering and encouraging that people are interested in my writing, and will even sometimes let me ramble about it at length, I don’t want them to read it.
Not yet, at least. I obviously want them to read it after it’s published. In fact, I’ll probably be running through the streets, throwing copies at anyone that happens to walk by. But I don’t want anyone to see it in its growing stages, when it’s riddled with typos and places where I accidentally crammed sections of two different sentences together because my brain was too fast for my fingers. I don’t want them to see the plot threads dangling like the hems of jean cutoffs and the characters who are all over the map in their inconsistencies. I especially don’t want anyone to read the scenes which will inevitably be scrapped in the revision process. Some things just aren’t meant for human eyes.
Writing is a process. The first draft of a novel is crap. It is. And I don’t want to show anyone something which I know, objectively, is crap. It needs to be polished. Multiple times. And then, maybe, I’ll have something worth showing people. And yes, you can absolutely read that.