Sorry, but they do. At least, they do when it comes to writing. We have this image in our mind of the tortured writer pounding away at the keyboard, glass of whiskey by their side, all alone in their attic, trapped in a world unto themselves. But that’s not reality. It’s not my reality, anyways. I write for enjoyment, of course I do. If I didn’t enjoy it, then what would be the point (not like I’m making bank on my fiction… yet)? But if you want to sell your writing, and you want to go the traditional publishing route, then you have to sell it to people. To a lot of people: readers, other writers, literary agents, publishers, the list goes on… With this in mind, it might be nice to have someone other than your Mom, spouse, sister, Aunt Donna, cousin Fred, etcetera read the damn thing. Enter…