Category Archives: Craft & Skills

The Harsh Side, Part IV: The Gentle Shove

Craft & Skills The Writing Life 3 Comments

So, we’ve talked about how to handle receiving a harsh critique, and how to soften giving a harsh critique, but what if you need a harsh critique and your dear, sweet friends and family are determined to play nice?  How can we get them to choke up on the bat and give us the dirty, painful review we don’t want, but need? The answer to any communication crossroad is asking the right kind of questions. Just as questions are necessary to truly understanding another person’s wants or needs, they are equally important in getting the truth from our closer beta readers. (Closer in relationship, not distance.)

Here’s a list of some questions that have helped me. I’d love to hear any additions if you have them. You’ll notice I avoid yes and no questions. I want to get people talking, opening up, and so I try to get their words flowing. I’m often surprised by how much honesty eventually comes out.

  1. When you started reading, where in the manuscript (ms) did you stop first and why?
  2. Did you ever set the ms down for more than two days? What were you doing at the time?
  3. What kind of a person is the protagonist? Antagonist? Sidekick…etc.? (Asking how they see your characters will give you insight into how well you’ve done your characterization and their growth arcs.)
  4. What part bored you the most? Why? (This can be a tough one for some if they don’t want to admit any part of it wasn’t edge of their seat thrilling. Get an honest answer and get them talking about it and you might see a plot flaw. Since you’re pushing on this, be careful how serious you take it.)
  5. What part was most exciting? Why?
  6. Who would you recommend this book to? (Pay close attention to this answer. Read body language. If they suddenly become reluctant, and they’re slow in answering, you may have some work to do. Of course, you also have to be careful you don’t read something into their body language that isn’t there.)
  7. What does the protagonist look like? Antagonist? Mother…. Etc? What time of year did the action take place? Where?  (Having them explain descriptions of key people, places, or elements in your story can tell you if you described them to a reader’s reasonable understanding. It doesn’t have to match yours. It just has to exist to the extent you’re trying to convey to your reader.)
  8. Who did you like best in the book? (Again, look for body language. Are they animated when they discuss your character, or kind of bored?)
  9. Who did you like least in the book? (Have you made a villain they love to hate, one they sympathize with but understand must lose, or one they couldn’t care less about one way or another? Regardless of their feelings, it should be a strong feeling.)
  10. Would you like to read the sequel? (Again, watch initial reaction; not just the words that come from their mouths.)

Remember, in all of this, when we try to understand other people our perceptions, positive or negative, and our own attitudes can cloud judgment. If you can have an impartial friend with you, it might be helpful. Also, know when to stop. If someone feels like they’re being grilled, they definitely won’t want to read another ms from you. Sometimes it helps to let your reader know beforehand what you’re doing and why. I’ve found these types of questions helpful; often given in small doses to my daughters who are determined my writing will rival their favorite authors. I love that they love me but…you know. I want my writing to really rival their favorite authors.

 

The Harsh Side, Part III: The Key Is Specificity

Craft & Skills Evan Braun The Writing Life 7 Comments

Writers should be in contact with other writers, not holed up in their offices typing to themselves. The result is that you, as a writer, will almost inevitably be called upon to evaluate someone else’s work.

Yesterday, I shared some unfortunate anecdotes about my history as a bad critiquer. All of that was mere prelude to today’s checklist, in which I reveal the tools and techniques I have found to be particularly helpful in the reviewing process.

Of course, I can’t pretend this checklist is exhaustive! In the comments, feel free to share your own unique approaches.

  1. Determine the book’s target audience. First thing you need to do is determine who the book is written for. Is it you? If it’s not, say so upfront. Don’t withhold your comments if you aren’t the book’s intended audience, but consider that from time to time you and the author aren’t necessarily going to be on the same page.
  2. Be polite. It seems obvious, and yet judging from my responses to the contest manuscripts (see yesterday), I was slow to learn this lesson. Always be nice… bearing in mind that it is possible to be too nice, thus giving the author the wrong impression! Being polite and offering false praise are two very different things. Don’t say things you don’t mean.
  3. Be specific. If you’re trying to avoid offending someone with harsh criticism, you might think your salvation lies in being vague. Stifle that impulse; it does no one any favors. By being specific and clear about what isn’t working for you, you’re bringing something fixable and practical to the author’s attention. Don’t leave the author guessing about what you mean.
  4. Give examples. In the same vein, provide concrete examples for each point of criticism. Giving examples is an invaluable illustrative tool. Being specific and giving examples also have a secondary, subliminal effect: it demonstrates to the author that you read the book carefully. If you’re vague and can’t point out examples, the author might deduce (perhaps correctly) that you don’t really care about their work.
  5. Offer to demonstrate your points of criticism. After being specific about your criticism and providing examples from the text of where it went wrong, offer to demonstrate how you might personally go about fixing it. It’s critical at this juncture that you make it clear that you’re not trying rewrite them or make story choices on their behalf. Such a demonstration can mean writing a few paragraphs or providing a short outline of how you might approach a chapter or storyline differently. One of my writer friends once went so far as to write a three-page alternate opening to my book. I didn’t use it verbatim, of course, and he got a lot of the details wrong, but it easily ranks as the best feedback I’ve ever gotten. And the fact that he took the time to do it meant the world to me. But remember: only offer to do this. Don’t go the extra mile if the author doesn’t want you to.
  6. Cut your losses if you have to. If you’ve gotten 10,000 words into a 100,000-word novel and you can already tell the book isn’t worth your time, listen to yourself. It may be that you’re completely the wrong audience. It may be that the writing and grammar is juvenile. It may be that the story is deeply, hopelessly flawed. If this is the case, provide feedback on the part that you did read and be specific about your reasons for not going further.
  7. But: offer to read more at a later date. Don’t just leave the author hung out to dry. Let them know that you care enough to follow up. (And you actually have to be willing to do it, when the time comes!)

Ultimately, there are some people out there who are simply not prepared to handle harsh criticism. No matter how polite you are, you may not be able to please them. If that’s the case, you’ll need to accept that and move on.

That said, these final two items can help reduce the damage:

  1. Give praise where praise is due. Even in the most hopeless manuscript (and I’ve encountered some doozies), there is always something to praise. Be just as specific about what works well as you are with what doesn’t.
  2. Encourage the author that their work is valuable and has promise. Being a great author requires a lot of growth and a lot of work. Even if a book is 90% unsalvageable, recognize the monumental effort that has gone into writing it. I once delivered a critique in which, after all my points were laid bare, my main piece of advice was, essentially: “Have you considered giving up on this one and moving on to your next idea?” Of course, I wouldn’t have said this to just anyone. But the author was a twelve-year-old girl. Even though she was spectacularly good for her age and experience, without a doubt her writing was going to improve the most by continuing to exercise her creativity, not by fixating on editing her first novel to perfection.

Like I said, let’s hear some of your own critique stories and techniques. Taken together, I’m sure we have a broad range of experiences on which to draw.

Come back tomorrow for the concluding post in our series, The Harsh Side, Part IV: The Gentle Shove, in which Colette turns the tables and reveals the various ways that we, as writers, can direct the feedback we receive from our critique partners in order to get the most out of their efforts.

The Harsh Side, Part II: Lessons Learned the Hard Way

Craft & Skills Evan Braun The Writing Life 6 Comments

Three years ago, I got a call from my employer, a small Canadian press who I had just started doing freelance editing for. One of their clients had contacted them and abruptly cancelled their editing contract. Apparently she was so upset by my edit-and my incendiary comments-that she was brought to tears.

To say I was devastated would be putting it mildly. To this day, I feel the sting. While it may be possible that this particular client was unusually sensitive, there are a lot of things I could have done to soften the blow of what had turned out to be a fairly harsh critique.

The problem was that I was very inexperienced at this whole business of delivering critiques. Looking back, my comments to her were pretty tactless. Over the years, I’ve had to turn “softening the blow” into an art form. (I’m still not a full-fledged critique artist, but I’ve come a long way.)

Fast forward a few months. That same small press was receiving manuscripts for a summer publishing contest, and they found themselves taking in far more submissions than expected. Quite a deep slushpile had built up. I was hired to take that slushpile home and whittle it down to ten finalists, a more manageable reading load for the contest’s judges.

Never having done something like that before, I came up with a simple system. I threw down a post-it on each manuscript’s cover page and wrote what I thought of it. Strange that it never occurred to me that these books’ authors would want to know what the critiquer thought of their work. Indeed, my comments were “for internal use only.”

-“Severely incompetent. If my dog could read, he would give this book two paws down. Way down.”

-“Utterly incomprehensible. Does this author even speak English?”

-“Please pardon the dark red stains on the opening pages. I was bleeding uncontrollably from the eyes.”

I’m not sure these comments were even helpful for the purpose of internal use. I can’t imagine the looks of horror on the faces of the poor people who were charged with communicating this feedback to inquiring authors.

To put it mildly, this particular employer has been more patient with me than I deserve.

Of course, I’m more writer than editor, and therefore I have been on the other side of the fence, too. Many, many times.

This past year I wrote a science fiction epic. By the time I hit the one-third point in my first draft, I contacted a published friend of mine and asked him if he’d like to take a look. I was proud of my work and felt confident the response would be a positive one. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t expecting much of a critique; I was expecting praise.

I’m sure a lot of those contest authors had been proud of their work, too, before I eviscerated them!

Similar to what happened with Colette-and if you haven’t read yesterday’s post, make sure you do-my friend only read one chapter and then decided to cut his losses. In retrospect, he cannot be blamed for doing so. I got a lot more wrong in that first draft than I got right.

So what do you do if you’re in the awkward position of providing negative feedback to a fellow writer? Well, tune in tomorrow, for The Harsh Side, Part III: The Key Is Specificity, for my trusty checklist.

The Harsh Side, Part I: Finding Gratitude

Craft & Skills The Writing Life 5 Comments

Any of us who have been writing for very long has received them, probably given them, and seen various reactions to them: the harsh critique. Now, I’m not saying we should be grateful to those people who can lay it on the line, say it as it is, and give the word “blunt” a sharp edge. But…well, maybe we should be grateful.

I have a well-published friend of mine, Gini Koch, who offered to look at some of my work early on. Some comments included: “Your protagonist reads like a stuffy narrator.”, “the ending is totally blah — that’s not an ending, that’s a faked out happily ever after. It’s too pat, it’s unbelievable.” and “I’ve done edits on the first chapter. I stopped there because, honestly, this book is so very far from being ready that it’s not a good use of my time.”

Ouch. Yes, we’re still friends, good friends even. I cried, I ranted, and then I got back to work. I tried to separate myself from my hurt feelings and examine her comments with an objective eye. For the most part, she was right; nail-on-the-head right. By following her advice (most of it), my writing ability took a giant leap. I still had plenty of work to do and I still have improvements to make, but I’m better off for her harsh criticism of my work.

Recently, I was placed in a similar position. I received a manuscript with a great concept, good pacing, and loaded with merit; the writing needed serious work. I found myself saying almost verbatim to the last comment quoted above. I didn’t see the point in continuing, only to make the same comments over and over again. Understandably, but unintentionally, I hurt feelings and damaged a friendship. I didn’t mean to. I critiqued the work with the same critical eye I use on my own writing and anybody else’s. I tried to be tactful. I tried to be nice. I don’t think I succeeded.

In the process, I’ve come to realize something I knew, but only now understand. Those painful critiques were the effort of someone who truly cared. My friend wanted me to succeed. She wanted to give me all the tools she could, knock them into me if necessary, so my writing would improve to publishable level.

A few months ago, a short story of mine was published by an online e-magazine.  It was my first accepted work. My friends have raved about how much they loved it. It won third place for the month and was even accepted into an upcoming anthology. I couldn’t have done it without the encouragement and advice from several honest critiques. Thank you to all of my writing friends who are willing to tell me the straight truth rather than spare my feelings.

Still, I wish I knew how to make comments less painful. I worry I might discourage someone from their dreams.  And on that note, keep a lookout for our follow-up post, The Harsh Side, Part II: Lessons Learned the Hard Way, by Evan Braun. In my opinion he’s the master at diminishing the sting of blunt, honest comments. He has some tips to help us soften the blows of a harsh critique.