We have been struggling with the concept of 'pretty art' for a while. It can sometimes be frustrating when you wrote a really profound piece to find people don't pay as much attention to it as one-liners written by she-poets or Rupi Kaur’s menstrual blood. We don't mean to crap on she-poets or two sentence love poems, but just let you know that if you write about politics, or equal rights, or anything else that matters, there is a place for you in this world.
I remember receiving my first review for a book I wrote from a person I didn’t know. It was horrible. The reviewer basically said something that is my worst nightmare: “it had potential but fell flat on its face.” It reminded me of the comment of one of the literary snobs that read my work and said, without any empathy or regard for my emotions: “this is not writing, this is shit.” I remember sobbing about it, even after I learned not to take things personally during my years spend in therapy.