(Or, All I Need is a Laptop. And Maybe Some Wine.)
My laptop has issues. It's already three and a half years old, and I use it every day. The left mouse key (or, is it a touchpad key?) is in dire need of a new spring, and I've actually switched the left and right button functions since the "click" function is kind of important in my writing efforts. And sometimes? The certain letters act up every once in a while. By acting up, I mean "don't work," not unless you press on it several times, and then you might get a whole row of that letter. At times it's just the letter J, but other times, it's the letter S. The battery doesn't stay charged anymore.
But I'm not complaining. Because I love my laptop. Lots.
Because my laptop is how I connect with the writerly/critiquerly buddies. There's just something about a group of people who are as dedicated to the art of writing that fulfills me in a way I don't get anywhere else.
And they get me, my writerly/critiquerly friends. They see my worst writing and my best. So I tend to—you know—share things with them.
Like today when I posted a new chapter on my online critique group board? I also posted an image of the Fountain of Time from Chicago's Washington Park, where this chapter takes place. Oh, and the poem by Henry Austin Dobson that inspired the monument. These two things aren't really well known, but they meant a lot to me when I wrote the scene. And I love how much my crit group appreciates the reference.
This is just one more thing that is so great about online crit buddies.
What have you shared with your writerly pals that you knew they'd get like no one else?
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
First Ever "Eye of the Critiquer" Blog Awards
(Or, Summer's Best in Critiquerly Linkage)
Since the launch of Not and Editor in March, I now tend to get really excited when I read other blog posts on critiquing and critique partners. The critique process is so important in the overall writing process, so I've decided to create a blog award for some of the terrific posts out there.
Don't laugh at my graphics. Unless you insist. It's really not meant to be spooky. Unless you like spooky.
~~~How Critique Partners Bring value: Beth and Ashley March have some convincing reasons for pursuing a critiquerly relationship.
Tips on Finding a Critique Partner: Tori Scott guest posts on Rusty Fischer's blog about using twitter, and Juliette Wade has a few ideas on what a writer should look for in a CP.
Different Types of Critique Partners: Jessica Silva talks about her alpha and beta readers.
Beware! Critique Partners can do Harm: Roni Loren discusses how writers can suffer death by critique.
Note: Again, I'm always looking for critiquerly posts. If anyone happens upon such a post, send it my way. I'll award Eye of the Critiquer every once in a while, so help me give the props where the props are deserved.
Since the launch of Not and Editor in March, I now tend to get really excited when I read other blog posts on critiquing and critique partners. The critique process is so important in the overall writing process, so I've decided to create a blog award for some of the terrific posts out there.
Don't laugh at my graphics. Unless you insist. It's really not meant to be spooky. Unless you like spooky.
Eye of the Critiquer Blog Award
(Yes, this is my eye. I'm watching. I'm always watching.)
While researching some of the blogs with posts about critiquing and critique partners, I noticed a story arc, and so I've organized the award-winning posts into categories. SOooooo, here they are.
~~~
Tips on Finding a Critique Partner: Tori Scott guest posts on Rusty Fischer's blog about using twitter, and Juliette Wade has a few ideas on what a writer should look for in a CP.
Different Types of Critique Partners: Jessica Silva talks about her alpha and beta readers.
Beware! Critique Partners can do Harm: Roni Loren discusses how writers can suffer death by critique.
Parting Ways: Suzan does a fine series about the CP relationship, but in this post, she talks about the dreaded break-up.
~~~
To my well-spoken blog winners: there are no rules to winning. Feel free to post the bling on your blog. Thank you for your informative posts.Note: Again, I'm always looking for critiquerly posts. If anyone happens upon such a post, send it my way. I'll award Eye of the Critiquer every once in a while, so help me give the props where the props are deserved.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Giving “It's Not Quite There” Feedback
(Or, You Have Something Stuck in Your Teeth)
We've all been there: when someone has—er—something ooky stuck in their teeth. And you? You're the only one courageous enough to even think about telling them. Because if you don't, who knows how long they'll go around talking to other people before they realize for themselves that it's been there, in plain view, since their last meal? They'll know you saw it and didn't tell them. Sure, maybe you'll feel a little uncomfortable, especially if you don't really know them very well. But you have to. You do.
Even so, you probably wouldn't say, Eww. You have something gross right there. Probably spinach. Did you have spinach today?
Wouldn't it be easier if they just came right out and asked you if they had something stuck in their teeth? The pressure is way reduced. Why yes, yes you do have a little something.
When a writer asks for feedback on their project, they're—stay with me here—asking if they have something stuck in their teeth. The writer may feel somewhat exposed in opening their art to criticism, but they'd like the critiquer to tell them about any spinach issues before someone else sees their work.
And yet, the deft critiquer would never say, Ewww. You do! It's spinach. Never eat spinach while you write. No, the skilled critiquer hands the writer a mirror and helps the person find their own spinach. (*dramatic pause, as if the preceding sentence has deep, proverbial meaning*)
Here's a list that will help you determine your critiquerly deftness.
We've all been there: when someone has—er—something ooky stuck in their teeth. And you? You're the only one courageous enough to even think about telling them. Because if you don't, who knows how long they'll go around talking to other people before they realize for themselves that it's been there, in plain view, since their last meal? They'll know you saw it and didn't tell them. Sure, maybe you'll feel a little uncomfortable, especially if you don't really know them very well. But you have to. You do.
Even so, you probably wouldn't say, Eww. You have something gross right there. Probably spinach. Did you have spinach today?
Wouldn't it be easier if they just came right out and asked you if they had something stuck in their teeth? The pressure is way reduced. Why yes, yes you do have a little something.
When a writer asks for feedback on their project, they're—stay with me here—asking if they have something stuck in their teeth. The writer may feel somewhat exposed in opening their art to criticism, but they'd like the critiquer to tell them about any spinach issues before someone else sees their work.
And yet, the deft critiquer would never say, Ewww. You do! It's spinach. Never eat spinach while you write. No, the skilled critiquer hands the writer a mirror and helps the person find their own spinach. (*dramatic pause, as if the preceding sentence has deep, proverbial meaning*)
Here's a list that will help you determine your critiquerly deftness.
- Cite Grammar Rules: It's rarely helpful to edit a grammar transgression each time it happens when it happens over and over—the writer then relies on the critiquer to find these mistakes every time. A quick google search will return a reputable grammar-rules website for almost any grammatical situation a critiquer might need. Is it lay or lie? Grammar Girl knows. Possessive Pronouns? Not to worry. The Basics are explained. To comma or not to comma? GrammarBook provides rules and examples. With critiquerly feedback mostly e-mailed or online, providing links to these rules is easy and it does two things. Thing the first: it takes the critiquer out of the middle. The critiquer didn't make up the rule, doesn't own the rule, and isn't throwing it at the writer to pick on them. The critiquer is just the person who noticed the possible grammar spinach mistake. Thing the second: a link to the rule provides the writer with a more complete explanation, and most writers—when discovering a tool to help them improve their art—will read more than just that one rule. Therefore, the critiquer has provided the writer with yet another way to improve on their own.
- Cite Common Writing Improvement Suggestions: The same concept for grammar rules applies to writing tips, for the same reasons—the critiquer is there to help the writer grow, and not to take out the red cyber pen and light up the page. Feel free to recommend writing craft books that you've read to your critique partner. The best gifts I've gotten from critiquerly writers are referrals to writing craft books. Is the prose too purple or adjective-ridden? The First Five Pages by Noah Lukeman may serve as a fantastic reference for your critique partner. Does their plot fall short? Refer them to Plot & Structure by James Scott Bell. Can't pinpoint the overall theme? Have them try Writing Great Books for Young Adults by Regina Brooks. As with grammar rules, writing rules are also easily found online as well. The upper echelon of critiquers share the best tools in their belts with other writers.
- State Reactions as Reactions, Not Fact: Opinions are commonly disguised as fact every day, everywhere. When it happens in the critiquerly feedback realm, it can unfortunately come across as judgmental and perplexing. For example,"This section is confusing" is an opinion disguised as fact. And really, what does it mean? "I'm confused in the dialogue section because I'm not sure who is speaking" or "I couldn't get into the scene at first; consider working a transition sentence just before it," are statements that are clear, non-judgmental, and much more helpful. Here's another caveat to this rule: positive opinions stated as fact, while uplifting, are also not as helpful as they could be. "This is so great! You're a genius!" sounds wonderful, but if the critiquer wants to be more helpful to the writer, they'll add why the section is great. "The emotional build really works and the peak in this section brought me to tears; well done" is more clearly stated and it tells the writer exactly what they're doing right.
- Re-read Critiquerly Comments for Tone: After working in the Americana business realm for ten plus years, I've learned that every business email has to be re-read for tone, and the necessity for this step is the same—if not amplified—in the writerly/critiquerly realm. The best critiquers re-read their comments to make sure that the tone is helpful, friendly, and approachable. How do you know if your notes are tone-appropriate? Pretend you're in a bad mood and read your comments to see if the person on the receiving end can misconstrue the tone or message, and tweak as necessary. Throw in some personality—it renders the tone amicable (see 3 Feedback Traits I Adore).
- Ask the Writer: "My goal is to provide helpful feedback. Let me know what worked and what didn't work for you." This last step helps ensure that all the work the critiquer has done has helped the writer, and it closes a loop. You may not get a response if your feedback hasn't been helpful or if the writer has had a Negative Reaction* to it. However, you'll always get a response when you've helped the writer improve.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Autism Service Dog: Fundraiser
(Or, My Other Passion)
I promise this will be my only post on this subject, and I already feel uneasy doing ANY personal posts off the writerly/critiquerly topic, but this one is—well—way important to me. I'll try not to get all mushy.
As many of my earliest readers know, my 4-year-old son is autistic. He's a fantastic child and a true blessing in our lives, but he can't communicate. If he wanders off (as he so loves to do), he wouldn't be able to tell people his name. He's getting too big for strollers, doesn't like crowds, and craves heights (Yes, heights. Like, climbing. Oy.).
Luckily, he's been approved to receive an Autism Service Dog from a non-profit [501(c)(3)*] organization, 4 Paws for Ability. These service dogs are wonderful with autistic children both therapeutically—they are true friends, can calm down a child who is agitated, and will follow a child's verbal and non-verbal commands; and for safety reasons—they are trained to track children who wander off, and can be tethered to a child while walking through crowds or public places to avoid a lost-kid situation.
IT'S PERFECT FOR MY SON.
Because 4 Paws for Ability** is a non-profit organization, part of the deal for service dog placement is fundraising. Of the $22,000 it takes to train a service dog, each family is required to raise $13,000. I'm very lucky, because a have huge support from family and friends to help with the effort. We're planning a benefit event in the Chicago area on November 13th. Right now? We're looking for donation items to raffle or auction off.
BOOKS would be great for raffle/silent auction baskets. Especially signed books. Or gift cards, or anything that you've seen at past benefits. If you know of anyone with such a stash, please contact me (mkaley3 at gmail dot com).
Since some of my writerly/critiquerly friends who cannot attend this event have already asked, I've set up a website for tax-deductible charitable donations here, or you can join Drew's FaceBook group and donate there, but pleasepleaseplease don't feel obligated. I have a long way to go, and I'm sure we'll get there.
After all, I'd do anything for my Drew.
Thanks for reading.
* Tax ID for 4 Paws for Ability: 31-1625484
**4 Paws finds many of their dogs at local shelters, which I love.
I promise this will be my only post on this subject, and I already feel uneasy doing ANY personal posts off the writerly/critiquerly topic, but this one is—well—way important to me. I'll try not to get all mushy.
As many of my earliest readers know, my 4-year-old son is autistic. He's a fantastic child and a true blessing in our lives, but he can't communicate. If he wanders off (as he so loves to do), he wouldn't be able to tell people his name. He's getting too big for strollers, doesn't like crowds, and craves heights (Yes, heights. Like, climbing. Oy.).
Luckily, he's been approved to receive an Autism Service Dog from a non-profit [501(c)(3)*] organization, 4 Paws for Ability. These service dogs are wonderful with autistic children both therapeutically—they are true friends, can calm down a child who is agitated, and will follow a child's verbal and non-verbal commands; and for safety reasons—they are trained to track children who wander off, and can be tethered to a child while walking through crowds or public places to avoid a lost-kid situation.
IT'S PERFECT FOR MY SON.
Because 4 Paws for Ability** is a non-profit organization, part of the deal for service dog placement is fundraising. Of the $22,000 it takes to train a service dog, each family is required to raise $13,000. I'm very lucky, because a have huge support from family and friends to help with the effort. We're planning a benefit event in the Chicago area on November 13th. Right now? We're looking for donation items to raffle or auction off.
BOOKS would be great for raffle/silent auction baskets. Especially signed books. Or gift cards, or anything that you've seen at past benefits. If you know of anyone with such a stash, please contact me (mkaley3 at gmail dot com).
Since some of my writerly/critiquerly friends who cannot attend this event have already asked, I've set up a website for tax-deductible charitable donations here, or you can join Drew's FaceBook group and donate there, but pleasepleaseplease don't feel obligated. I have a long way to go, and I'm sure we'll get there.
After all, I'd do anything for my Drew.
Thanks for reading.
![]() |
| Drew in a time out for climbling: he's really broken up about it. |
* Tax ID for 4 Paws for Ability: 31-1625484
**4 Paws finds many of their dogs at local shelters, which I love.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Critique Partner Want Ads Launch
(Or, Critiquers Unite!)
Oh, yes. We will unite!
But first, kindly indulge me for a teensy moment. I just saw the Paul McCartney in concert at Wrigley Field, home of the Chicago Cubs. I'm a wee star-struck, because this sixty-nine-year-old man? Rocked it. Seriously.
Live and Let Die. Let it Be. Hello, Goodbye.
And not that looks matter, but if they did, he looked fantastic.
Ahem. On with the Critique! Partner! Blitz!
My friend Mary Frame mentioned a while back that aspiring writers need somewhere to go to find critiquerly assistance, and she suggested (in her infinite, if not goat-like wisdom) that I add a page to this blog for such a purpose. A classified ads, of sorts, for writer/critiquers to find willing and able writer/critiquers so that WiPs can be exchanged.
So of course, I had to turn Mary Frame's stroke of brilliance into reality. The page is added, and we're launching it today.
Please don't list your want ads in the comments of today's blog post, but on the actual Looking for a Critique Partner? page. (Found under "Pages" in the right column.)
The wants ads will remain open indefinitely, so keep checking back, or wait to post until you're ready. I'm also planning to run a quarterly CP want ads blitz, starting with this one. Tell your friends. Tell your CPs (yes, it's healthy and good to have multiple partners). Tell the members of your critique groups.
Bring cookies.
Oh, and happy CP hunting.
Oh, yes. We will unite!
But first, kindly indulge me for a teensy moment. I just saw the Paul McCartney in concert at Wrigley Field, home of the Chicago Cubs. I'm a wee star-struck, because this sixty-nine-year-old man? Rocked it. Seriously.
Live and Let Die. Let it Be. Hello, Goodbye.
And not that looks matter, but if they did, he looked fantastic.
I believe in yesterday, Paul. I do. Sigh.
Ahem. On with the Critique! Partner! Blitz!
My friend Mary Frame mentioned a while back that aspiring writers need somewhere to go to find critiquerly assistance, and she suggested (in her infinite, if not goat-like wisdom) that I add a page to this blog for such a purpose. A classified ads, of sorts, for writer/critiquers to find willing and able writer/critiquers so that WiPs can be exchanged.
So of course, I had to turn Mary Frame's stroke of brilliance into reality. The page is added, and we're launching it today.
Please don't list your want ads in the comments of today's blog post, but on the actual Looking for a Critique Partner? page. (Found under "Pages" in the right column.)
The wants ads will remain open indefinitely, so keep checking back, or wait to post until you're ready. I'm also planning to run a quarterly CP want ads blitz, starting with this one. Tell your friends. Tell your CPs (yes, it's healthy and good to have multiple partners). Tell the members of your critique groups.
Bring cookies.
Oh, and happy CP hunting.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Critiquerly Interview with The Rejectionist
(Or, Helping Someone Move Forward)
Perhaps you know our next guest for her fashion sense, her desperate attempts to save tiny creatures, her erudite ability to educate the masses, or her tales of boosting office morale. Or maybe you love her because she knows what it's like to be a writer, or because she cohabitates with an English-speaking, guest-posting cat. (*waves at Lola pants*)
Maybe you simply know her as Le R. That's right, author friends. The Rejectionist is our bestest of friends today, and she's going to talk about being a critiquer. THAT'S RIGHT I SAID CRITIQUER WHICH IS NOT A WORD IF YOU RELY ON SO CALLED PUBLISHED DICTIONARIES BUT IF YOU LOOK IN THE RIGHT MARGIN OF THIS BLOG YOU'LL KNOW IT REALLY IS A WORD.
Now that we're in the spirit, author friends, feast your eyes on the fabulous Le R.
~~~
NEA: Who, as one of your critiquers/beta-readers, have you learned the most from, and what did you learn from him/her?
Le R: I learned about editing from diving into it, really. I worked for a literary agent who was a former editor, and was very hands-on and intensive in terms of editing client work, so I learned quite a lot from watching that process. I work as a freelance editor now, and I learn a lot just from working consistently, and I read style manuals on the side. (I'm not joking! It's real nerdy.) Editing is a very, very different skill from writing; there are a lot of great writers who are terrible editors, and plenty of great editors who are not especially good writers. I think the ability to tell a story and the ability to see a story don't necessarily have much to do with each other. The thing that is most delightful to me, whether I am editing someone's novel or someone's college essay, is the detective work of figuring out where they want to go and what is preventing them from getting there, and also the feeling that I am doing something useful for someone who may never have had anyone look at their writing with real attention.
That skill definitely carries over into my own writing--I see all kinds of things now that I never used to notice, things like using the same adjective twenty times in a single manuscript. I always end up deleting a couple hundred adverbs. I think the most useful thing that I've learned, though, in terms of my own writing, is to be tremendously ruthless and to welcome tremendous ruthlessness. I have one dear friend who I trade work with and who I basically share a brain with, and she is not at all shy about telling me when things aren't working. I find that quite useful, and it also means when she tells me something is good, it's good. It is a rare treat to have someone read your work well.
NAE: What is the one piece of advice you can give to someone trying to develop his or her critique skills?
Le R: Don't look for the story you want to read; look for the story the writer wants to tell.
NAE: When you critique someone's work, what is your process?
Le R: I'm a multi-tasker--for whatever reason, I do well with the written word, and I can look at larger structural issues and nitpicky grammar business at the same time. When I edit professionally, I look at both, and I'll usually focus most on editorial work on the first pass, and then go back through to make sure I didn't miss any smaller problems or typos or what have you. In a perfect world, I would read through first without marking anything up, but I don't always have time.
NAE: Is there one specific thing that you gravitate toward while critiquing?
Le R: It sounds sort of corny, but I think I gravitate toward the writer. I read so, so many query letters and manuscripts when I worked in publishing, and I read so much unpolished work now as a freelancer, and you develop--or at least I have developed, I don't know if this is always true, not everyone used to be a social worker--this weird ability to see the person producing the work. You can tell a lot about a person by the way they frame a story. I don't mean that in a sinister way--just that I try to think in terms of what would be most useful to that particular person. I don't have to worry at all any more about whether something is "good" or "publishable" or "salable"--it's not my job to sort things, it's my job now to help someone move forward, and anyone can move forward with their writing. So that's how I try to think.
If someone is at a very basic level, where they may not have even a rudimentary understanding of grammar, I can help them get their writing to a place where it at least makes sense grammatically; if someone knows how to put sentences together, but their plot has no internal logic or their characters are all one-dimensional, I'll work on that. Sometimes with student papers, there is a lot of gently noting that their teacher is probably going to figure out they cut and pasted the same sentence forty times throughout their paper to up the word count. I always point out things that people are doing well (even if it's "You used a comma correctly here! Great job!") because if you have never had anyone critique or edit your work before, and it comes back to you with so many comments it looks like the editor hemorrhaged all over your magnum opus, it can be a real shock. I try to remember that. It doesn't cost me anything to be kind, and it means a lot to people. Editing is this funny combination of roles, something like being a shop teacher and a psychotherapist and a witch all at once.
NAE: If there is another question you think I should ask, what is it, and what would your answer be?
Le R: I don't know what the question would be, but I will tell you that I hate copyediting bibliographies with the fire of a thousand suns.
Thank you, dearest R, for the fantastic responses. Figuring out what the writer is trying to do with the story is key—one of the most basic yet most important tasks of a skilled critiquer.
(We loves Le R, Precious. We loves her.)
Perhaps you know our next guest for her fashion sense, her desperate attempts to save tiny creatures, her erudite ability to educate the masses, or her tales of boosting office morale. Or maybe you love her because she knows what it's like to be a writer, or because she cohabitates with an English-speaking, guest-posting cat. (*waves at Lola pants*)
Maybe you simply know her as Le R. That's right, author friends. The Rejectionist is our bestest of friends today, and she's going to talk about being a critiquer. THAT'S RIGHT I SAID CRITIQUER WHICH IS NOT A WORD IF YOU RELY ON SO CALLED PUBLISHED DICTIONARIES BUT IF YOU LOOK IN THE RIGHT MARGIN OF THIS BLOG YOU'LL KNOW IT REALLY IS A WORD.
Now that we're in the spirit, author friends, feast your eyes on the fabulous Le R.
~~~
The Rejectionist is a writer, freelance editor, and publishing industry escapee.
She blogs at www.therejectionist.com.
She blogs at www.therejectionist.com.
~~~
NEA: Who, as one of your critiquers/beta-readers, have you learned the most from, and what did you learn from him/her?
Le R: I learned about editing from diving into it, really. I worked for a literary agent who was a former editor, and was very hands-on and intensive in terms of editing client work, so I learned quite a lot from watching that process. I work as a freelance editor now, and I learn a lot just from working consistently, and I read style manuals on the side. (I'm not joking! It's real nerdy.) Editing is a very, very different skill from writing; there are a lot of great writers who are terrible editors, and plenty of great editors who are not especially good writers. I think the ability to tell a story and the ability to see a story don't necessarily have much to do with each other. The thing that is most delightful to me, whether I am editing someone's novel or someone's college essay, is the detective work of figuring out where they want to go and what is preventing them from getting there, and also the feeling that I am doing something useful for someone who may never have had anyone look at their writing with real attention.
That skill definitely carries over into my own writing--I see all kinds of things now that I never used to notice, things like using the same adjective twenty times in a single manuscript. I always end up deleting a couple hundred adverbs. I think the most useful thing that I've learned, though, in terms of my own writing, is to be tremendously ruthless and to welcome tremendous ruthlessness. I have one dear friend who I trade work with and who I basically share a brain with, and she is not at all shy about telling me when things aren't working. I find that quite useful, and it also means when she tells me something is good, it's good. It is a rare treat to have someone read your work well.
NAE: What is the one piece of advice you can give to someone trying to develop his or her critique skills?
Le R: Don't look for the story you want to read; look for the story the writer wants to tell.
NAE: When you critique someone's work, what is your process?
Le R: I'm a multi-tasker--for whatever reason, I do well with the written word, and I can look at larger structural issues and nitpicky grammar business at the same time. When I edit professionally, I look at both, and I'll usually focus most on editorial work on the first pass, and then go back through to make sure I didn't miss any smaller problems or typos or what have you. In a perfect world, I would read through first without marking anything up, but I don't always have time.
NAE: Is there one specific thing that you gravitate toward while critiquing?
Le R: It sounds sort of corny, but I think I gravitate toward the writer. I read so, so many query letters and manuscripts when I worked in publishing, and I read so much unpolished work now as a freelancer, and you develop--or at least I have developed, I don't know if this is always true, not everyone used to be a social worker--this weird ability to see the person producing the work. You can tell a lot about a person by the way they frame a story. I don't mean that in a sinister way--just that I try to think in terms of what would be most useful to that particular person. I don't have to worry at all any more about whether something is "good" or "publishable" or "salable"--it's not my job to sort things, it's my job now to help someone move forward, and anyone can move forward with their writing. So that's how I try to think.
If someone is at a very basic level, where they may not have even a rudimentary understanding of grammar, I can help them get their writing to a place where it at least makes sense grammatically; if someone knows how to put sentences together, but their plot has no internal logic or their characters are all one-dimensional, I'll work on that. Sometimes with student papers, there is a lot of gently noting that their teacher is probably going to figure out they cut and pasted the same sentence forty times throughout their paper to up the word count. I always point out things that people are doing well (even if it's "You used a comma correctly here! Great job!") because if you have never had anyone critique or edit your work before, and it comes back to you with so many comments it looks like the editor hemorrhaged all over your magnum opus, it can be a real shock. I try to remember that. It doesn't cost me anything to be kind, and it means a lot to people. Editing is this funny combination of roles, something like being a shop teacher and a psychotherapist and a witch all at once.
NAE: If there is another question you think I should ask, what is it, and what would your answer be?
Le R: I don't know what the question would be, but I will tell you that I hate copyediting bibliographies with the fire of a thousand suns.
~~~
Thank you, dearest R, for the fantastic responses. Figuring out what the writer is trying to do with the story is key—one of the most basic yet most important tasks of a skilled critiquer.
(We loves Le R, Precious. We loves her.)
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
3 Mistakes I Made as a Newbie Critiquer, Unveiled
(Or, Don't Do What I Did)
First of all, vacation was lovely, thank you to all commenters who left me sunny vacation wishes. On our last evening at Bass Lake, we went on a pontoon ride and watched the sun set. Sigh.
While on vacation, I did a lot of thinking about when I first started writing four or so years ago. And what I did? Was to make a lot of mistakes. Thanks to all my writer/critiquer buddies along the way, I now make less mistakes.
So I thought I'd share some of my transgressions with everyone, especially newbie writer/critiquers just starting out, hoping to help others avoid these mistakes, commiserate with those who have, and/or help someone else feel not-so-badly because my mistakes are the worst.
Mistakes upon Mistakes.
Scenario: In the summer of 2008, I decided to write a short story, post it for critiques, and reel in my praise. My goal was to get feedback on my writing because I wanted to write a children's book, but I knew I should brush up on technique first because my sister (the real writer) told me I should. The forum that I had joined required that I critique five other stories before I could post my own.
Mistake the first: I read five stories and wrote up some notes on each. I rated each one basically the same, because really—who was I to tell someone how to use their art? I corrected some misuse of words and such, but I dared not go any further. I'd never even seen a good critique before, and yet I went in and left my empty comments. My biggest mistake? Not researching how to provide helpful feedback before leaving comments on a living, breathing person's work. Those writers needed something that I didn't provide: the needed to know where to hone their craft so they could improve. Sniff. I am so sorry, writers. I failed you!
Mistake the second: The story I subsequently posted brimmed with clever quips, humor, and a serious message. The mom and kid characters pulled directly from my own life (write what you know, right?). And people were going to read something I wrote. My art. Of course everyone would love it.
Until they didn't. Sure, they had some nice remarks on the clever quips, humor, and serious message; but overall, the feedback (in retrospect, very thoughtful and right on) devastated me. Story arc? More interesting subject matter? What?
After about three reviews, I killed it. I deleted it from the forum. I did—it's true. Me and my weakened ego limped back to our muse and said, WTF? We're not great? You mean, it's not that we didn't know what we wanted to do with our lives until now—to find that we were talented writers yet to be discovered? Heh? These people who have said bad things about us, perhaps they didn't know good writing when they read it—which is why they are on the forum themselves, they need help. Ha.
My biggest mistake here? I wasn't ready to develop yet, and I didn't know it until it happened.
In fact, anytime that I resist feedback, I now know that I've got to sit back and wonder why: Does the feedback miss its mark, or hit it entirely? (The words "hit it entirely" echo here.)
Mistake the third: Once my ego and my muse recovered from this incident, we went back and posted another, more interesting story. We wanted to become better and stronger, and we were damned sure were going to do it. And now we'd be ready for the sting of feedback. And sting it did, but this time, we took a collective and deep breath. WE CAN FIX THIS, we said. So we did. We fixed everything that anyone mentioned, no matter how big or small. Perplexed were we, however, when some comments from one critiquer contradicted comments from another. What to do; what. To. Do?
Ugh. My biggest mistake, this time, was that I'd swung all the way to the other side. I still did not know how to use feedback to my advantage. I hadn't acquired that internal filter yet.
So now, I sit on critiques. After I'm calmly able to answer the question, Does this feedback miss it's mark, or hit it entirely? I move on to the next thing: If I change this part of my work, am I making it better or worse? Is it right for my story? Is there another way to approach this issue to fix the identified problem?
Oh, sigh of sighs. My muse, my ego, and I are so glad we've earned our big girl panties.
Feel free to share your newbie mistakes. (Please. It will make us feel better.)
First of all, vacation was lovely, thank you to all commenters who left me sunny vacation wishes. On our last evening at Bass Lake, we went on a pontoon ride and watched the sun set. Sigh.
While on vacation, I did a lot of thinking about when I first started writing four or so years ago. And what I did? Was to make a lot of mistakes. Thanks to all my writer/critiquer buddies along the way, I now make less mistakes.
So I thought I'd share some of my transgressions with everyone, especially newbie writer/critiquers just starting out, hoping to help others avoid these mistakes, commiserate with those who have, and/or help someone else feel not-so-badly because my mistakes are the worst.
Mistakes upon Mistakes.
Scenario: In the summer of 2008, I decided to write a short story, post it for critiques, and reel in my praise. My goal was to get feedback on my writing because I wanted to write a children's book, but I knew I should brush up on technique first because my sister (the real writer) told me I should. The forum that I had joined required that I critique five other stories before I could post my own.
Mistake the first: I read five stories and wrote up some notes on each. I rated each one basically the same, because really—who was I to tell someone how to use their art? I corrected some misuse of words and such, but I dared not go any further. I'd never even seen a good critique before, and yet I went in and left my empty comments. My biggest mistake? Not researching how to provide helpful feedback before leaving comments on a living, breathing person's work. Those writers needed something that I didn't provide: the needed to know where to hone their craft so they could improve. Sniff. I am so sorry, writers. I failed you!
Mistake the second: The story I subsequently posted brimmed with clever quips, humor, and a serious message. The mom and kid characters pulled directly from my own life (write what you know, right?). And people were going to read something I wrote. My art. Of course everyone would love it.
Until they didn't. Sure, they had some nice remarks on the clever quips, humor, and serious message; but overall, the feedback (in retrospect, very thoughtful and right on) devastated me. Story arc? More interesting subject matter? What?
After about three reviews, I killed it. I deleted it from the forum. I did—it's true. Me and my weakened ego limped back to our muse and said, WTF? We're not great? You mean, it's not that we didn't know what we wanted to do with our lives until now—to find that we were talented writers yet to be discovered? Heh? These people who have said bad things about us, perhaps they didn't know good writing when they read it—which is why they are on the forum themselves, they need help. Ha.
My biggest mistake here? I wasn't ready to develop yet, and I didn't know it until it happened.
In fact, anytime that I resist feedback, I now know that I've got to sit back and wonder why: Does the feedback miss its mark, or hit it entirely? (The words "hit it entirely" echo here.)
Mistake the third: Once my ego and my muse recovered from this incident, we went back and posted another, more interesting story. We wanted to become better and stronger, and we were damned sure were going to do it. And now we'd be ready for the sting of feedback. And sting it did, but this time, we took a collective and deep breath. WE CAN FIX THIS, we said. So we did. We fixed everything that anyone mentioned, no matter how big or small. Perplexed were we, however, when some comments from one critiquer contradicted comments from another. What to do; what. To. Do?
Ugh. My biggest mistake, this time, was that I'd swung all the way to the other side. I still did not know how to use feedback to my advantage. I hadn't acquired that internal filter yet.
So now, I sit on critiques. After I'm calmly able to answer the question, Does this feedback miss it's mark, or hit it entirely? I move on to the next thing: If I change this part of my work, am I making it better or worse? Is it right for my story? Is there another way to approach this issue to fix the identified problem?
~~~
Feel free to share your newbie mistakes. (Please. It will make us feel better.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)






