There are two types of lies: lies of commission and lies of omission. It stands to reason that there are two types of honesty: expressed honesty and repressed honesty.

My writing has almost always fallen in the former camp. I’m not proud of it. Here we are, my 97th blog post since January 1, and only a handful of times have I let slip what I actually, honestly, believe that I’m too afraid to say out loud.

I haven’t lied once, that I know of. But real truth comes from the darkness: The truths that are too painful or embarrassing or risky to say out loud.

I assume most writing is repressed like this. But I also believe that the best writing isn’t. The best writing is intuitively vulnerable and forces the audience to empathize, if not always agree. And the best writing comes from the hardest thoughts. Best writing comes from the darkness.

I wish I could promise to write more honestly and less repressively; and, maybe, that’s the goal I secretly had in mind when I set out on this one-post-per-day project. But knowing what it would cost me in terms of vulnerability–the kind of scandalous, embarrassing admissions I would have to put on the page–makes me somewhat afraid. OK, very afraid.

It is that fear, more than anything else, that keeps me from becoming the best writer I can be.