process...

Ug. I hate looking back over a piece of writing that I cherished only to realize the extent of its badness. And no, I don't want to use a stronger word. Badness will do; somehow it fits perfectly.

Still, this realization of badness is not a complete negative. When I look at work from a few years ago, especially, especially, fiction that I've (thank goodness!) never shown anyone, I realize how much I've grown. I realize my expectations have grown. I have a higher standard for my own writing. I also realize that I'm a saner person than I was a few years ago, generally. So that's...nice.