Let’s Talk Process: Critique
Writers are often solitary folk, hiding in corners to scribble notes, lurking in their writer caves behind “KEEP OUT” signs, snapping at interruptions even if said bear offerings of caffeine and chocolate.
Writing, however, does not, cannot, happen in a vacuum. Not good writing anyway. Because we stare and we stare and we stare at the words, rework them, re-punctuate them, cut them out, put them back in, change someone’s eye color, hair color, nickname, favorite kind of pie, weapon of choice, etc etc etc. Eventually, the writer starts missing things, due, perhaps, to fatigue or that thing our brain does when it shows us what we want and not what’s actually there, because because because…
Writers need critiques. Alpha readers, beta readers, editors. Those folks who give self-pubbing a bad name? Many of them are guilty of a very specific type of hubris; the “I can it all myself,” variety. News flash, kids: your eyes aren’t sharp enough, your fact checking isn’t impeccable, and you are a comma abuser. Among other things. We all are. I know, it hurts, but it’s true. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you get better at this writing thing.
Critiquing is hard. So is taking critique. It takes a lot of time. It’s the picking apart of something you’ve bled for.
It also, as I mentioned like a couple paragraphs ago, makes what’s… rough better, what’s decent good, and what’s good excellent, killer, and dare I say it, bodacious.
Below are guidelines I’ve found useful. If you feel differently, or have things to add, please do. That’s what out sadly under utilized “comments” section is for.
For the Writer/Recipient
- Tell your critiques what you want. I once spend days on an in-line for someone only to have them tell me they were more interested in general impressions. It was annoying for both of us. So, save everyone some time and lay it out there: in line? Are you okay with people rewriting by way of example? Do you want a critique? An edit? Both? Are there specific thing you want your critters (heh) to look for: character development, continuity, plot holes, cliches, over use of the word “that?” Do you want it digital? Do you want to be able to track changes? Do you want it on paper?
- You do not have to make all the changes. You should consider them, but you don’t have to make them. I would urge you, however, to take not of how many of your critters makes note of a specific thing; as more comment, it’s less likely the issue is a matter of personal style and more likely it’s something that needs to be fixed. If they all notice, your readers (read: paying customers) probably will too.
- If you need clarification, ask for it. Your critter won’t mind. I’m not saying you should ping the poor devil every 5 minutes; make a list and send it to them once a day or every couple of days. Respect their need to write and eat and maybe pee occasionally but don’t leave things hanging.
- Let your critters know if there’s a deadline. People need time to do this thing and it’s only polite to make them aware of constraints before they start. Don’t ask someone to beta read a 1000 page novel in full critique + edit mode in three days.
- Remember: you asked for this. As you should. But you can’t take it personally. It isn’t personal. Did I repeat myself there? Yes, I did. Because admit it, you’ve taken it personally. At some point in the process, you will feel as though you’re being attacked. Everyone does. You will yell and rage and cry and punch things. Kids, YOU ARE NOT, I REPEAT NOT, BEING ATTACKED. Individuals you trust are giving you constructive feedback on your work. Which, while it feels like part of you, isn’t. You will not die of this. It will feel like you are, but I promise, you’re not. It gets less painful each time. Like being punched in the face. If you don’t like the way a critique is being presented to you, talk to the critter about it. If you still feel that way, perhaps you should ask someone else next time. Their style may not mesh with your sensibility and that’s a good thing to know; don’t drop a critter because they critique, though. That’s just silly. And remember, people who are consumers of a different genre or style are often the best critters because they can be more objective. There is, of course, an asshole in every bunch. Feel free to string that dude up by his thumbs.
To the Critter
- If the writer gives you guidelines, try to stick to them. If you notice something else, by all means, make a note, but don’t do an in-line if she asks for a general. Don’t rewrite if she asks you not to. Don’t Oxford comma if she doesn’t (even if lack of said drives you fucking crazy). She needs your help but she also has a better idea of where she is in her “process.”
- Be specific. Don’t say, “your villain is weak.” Say, “I’d like to know more about your villains motivation or backstory or ugly shoe collection.” Don’t point out a plot hole with out explaining why you think it’s a hole. Technique flaw? Give her the title of a book that does whatever it is well or a useful blog to check out. I’m not necessarily suggesting imposing your own technique, though that may sometimes be apt. People do things differently and that’s cool; if everyone wrote the same way, the most awesomest (yes, awesomest) thing in the world, stories, would be uniform and thus, boring as shit.
- If your writer is on a schedule, and you can’t ‘git ‘er’ done in a timely and thorough fashion, let her know. If ya’ll can work it out, fantastic. But better for her to pass on a half assed job and get you the next time around.
- Don’t be an asshole. I mean, this is a general life rule, but I feel the need to mention it here. Be honest but be constructively honest. If you have absolutely nothing good to say and absolutely nothing to offer, well… you know the old adage. You don’t have to be “nice,” but don’t be cruel. And try to point out at least a couple of things you think the writer did well, no matter how small.
And to both of you: have fun with this. Editing sucks, but playing with words and people and ideas is a blast. Never forget that. Make it a game, a treasure hunt, a joy. Play. Frolic. Both of you enjoy the sunlight outside of your cave for a little while.
Now sally forth, tally ho, and all that crap!
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