A while back, I wrote an article about why I don't share my work with family and friends. The emotional obstacle is strong, and, for me, a blogger for seven or eight years now, it doesn't ever go away. Maybe I still have to grow up more as a writer to get past it. Or maybe it's just that my family and I are different people with different interests and diverse literary tastes. My husband doesn't read the genres in which I write. My brother is in a whole other world from a religious and political perspective, so I only share the anodyne office humor with him. Nothing deep or close to my heart. As for friends, most of them are people with whom I work and I don't really want them knowing the other me. It's one reason why I write under a pen name. (The other is safety and protection from litigation due to my series from last fall on leaving a cult).