Power of Praise

During a week where I felt like the world's dumbest blonde, I got an unexpected phone call from a quasi-professional photographer. (In addition to a real job, he has a photography business as well.)
"Jane, I happened to see your blog this evening. Are those your pictures posted there?"
"Yup."
"All of them?"
"Uh huh."
"You personally took every shot?"
"I did. Sad isn't it? I'm thinking I might need to get a real life..."
"You are very good." He says, sounding somewhat surprised. "Those are great photos..."
"Thanks."
"You are a good photographer."
"Well, let's just say I have taken some good shots. Those are the ones I show off. The rest of them I throw out."
"Well, I think you've got a good eye."

The whole conversation took less than 30 seconds. But I'm hanging on to his words like a life line.
I have spent 25 hours working on three letters at work this week. TWENTY FIVE HOURS. I'm in the forth draft of two of them. And the third one has to be totally reworked. What kind of loser takes 25 hours to write three letters? And still doesn't get it right?

"You are a good photographer." "You are a good photographer."
It's like medicated moisturizer for dry cracked heels.