Writing is a bitch, it really is. You can get praise from whatever quarter and still, when it comes down to putting it out there, or trying, everything you've written is piss to be swallowed by horrors of the deep and forgotten. I wonder if there's ever a time in a writer's career where that effect is dampened at least some. This seriously happens to me every time. I remember a long time ago I received praise on some work I did from Ryan Glenn and he wanted to take a look some more and so Matt Trowbridge came to my (Ben K.'s) house to pick it up and as I was staring at the computer screen I got a case of the this is shits and wouldn't turn it over. So I just did the same thing with some poems I'm submitting to a magazine except I actually handed them over this time. We'll see how they're perceived.