About a Bear Chair and Critique

This is my Bear Chair. 

From the seat to the tip of Mister Bear’s ears is a little more than 20 inches. For the past couple of years, it’s been the repository of what I call, “Writing Whatnot.” Lots and lots of paper stacked all the way up to the tippy top! 

So in January of this year, I started clearing off the chair, which was mostly scraps (with quotes and ideas) and manuscript pages (with lots and lots of critique notes from writer friends, agents, and/or editors). 

Eventually, a few thoughts became crystal clear (I mean besides the obvious thought about 1,237 pages sitting around for years…) and so I’m sharing what I learned, starting with a favorite quote I found amongst the scraps: 

I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

 ~William Yeats 

Friends, I found quite a few instances of hard treading upon my dreams. That is to say, some rather harsh critique notes on my manuscripts. 

But I also found some extremely constructive critique notes. Happily, I’m mostly constructive and fair with critique. Sadly, I’m also guilty of a few not-so-constructive critiquing habits. So herewith are a few pointers when you’ve been asked to critique the dreams of fellow writers. May we all improve going forward. 

The “Thanks for Nothing” Critique 

You know what I’m talking about here, right? The note that’s just a few words, usually a command, that’s completely unhelpful. 

Don’t start with a question! 

Don’t start with dialogue!

Cut! Too Much! What?? Or worse, just “???” 

Now, these may all be valid points that will help a manuscript shine. But I, for one, always appreciate a bit of explanation. 

Like why not start with a question? Is that a rule? Because Charlotte’s Web by E. B. White starts with both a question (Where’s Papa going with that ax?) and dialogue. And so understandably, a writer might think it’s a fine idea to start a story in a similar manner. 

And why does this section need to be cut? What, exactly, is too much? And what am I supposed to glean from “What??” 

So to turn these around to constructive comments, provide a critique that might give more explanation. For example, why this particular manuscript should not open with a question. Or why the opening dialogue isn’t working. It doesn’t require a lengthy paragraph; a few sentences is often enough. 

And gosh, it’s much better to ask a writer, “How necessary is this part to your story?” Give the writer something to think about. As for “What?” or “???” Well, that’s just rude. Please don’t do that. 

The “I Could Write a Book” Critique 

You know this kind of critique…it goes on and on and on. This critique-er practically rewrites the manuscript, taking your dream and making it her dream. The comments are full of “should” suggestions. And I know it’s tempting at times when there’s a hot mess in front of you to just fix it, but that’s not helping the writer find her truth, her voice, her story. (Unless you’re getting paid to do a line edit and then you probably should just fix it.)

So there’s a middle space between the too short and too long critique. It may take some thought but that’s what good critique is: thoughtful, constructive, personalized feedback that helps a writer discover how or what needs revision. 

Now, what about you? Do you have a critique pet peeve? Or what do you especially appreciate in a critique? And finally, how impressed are you that I cleaned up all that stuff on the Bear Chair?

~Cathy C. Hall

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7 comments Cathy C. Hall, Charlotte's Web, manuscript critique, revision

Friday Speak Out!: What Can You Learn From a Pile of Poop?

by Sioux Roslawski

Okay, the truth is, perhaps it's not a pile of poop. Perhaps it's something salvageable. But no one's sure yet.

My first (and perhaps last) manuscript (a chick lit novel) is finished (finally). It's a complicated story (involving several “layers”) and I'm worried I'm so close (and so emotionally attached) that I'm unable to accurately assess its worth.

Too many parenthetical phrases, you say? I imagine the parenthesis density is due to my less-than-sure footing when it comes to this manuscript.

Currently, five writers have it. Three are reading it, one is using it as a doorstop, and the other is going to have a party soon and needs confetti...so, to the shredder it goes. While I wait for their feedback, I'm contemplating the pluses of a finished manuscript, even if the stack of papers end up being one big minus.

What can I learn from a not-even-close-to-stellar manuscript? Ever the optimist, I think there's lots to gain from a gigantic pile of fecal matter.

• I've learned how to keep the momentum going. It's easy (okay—sometimes it's easy) to stay in the groove when a piece is 1,000 words long, but when you're shooting for 80,000, there's lots of times when you sit your butt in the chair—with no idea of what you're going to write—and you write in spite of that.

• I've discovered that when you allow yourself to freefall, you almost always end up making a safe landing. The cool (and the frustrating...and the scary) thing about fiction is when you're a seat-of-the-pants type of writer—like I am—you don't always know where your story is headed. But to finish it, and to be totally immersed in the characters and the plot, you have to be willing to round that corner...blindly.

• I found out that the pesky editor that resides inside my head has to have their mouth duct-taped shut—at least most of the time. To get that many words down on paper—to get that much black on white—a writer has to forge ahead the majority of the time. I would go back at times and tinker with parts, but if I worried about making every single line perfect, I'd still be on page one...after a year and a half of working on it.

• I've learned to appreciate honest feedback (although really, this wasn't a recent discovery). At least one of my beta readers promised that I will need a crash helmet, that her editing will result in a bumpy ride for me. I love that. Hearing what is great about one's writing won't make anyone a stronger writer. However, when weaknesses and areas that could be improved are highlighted, that strengthens our craft.

So, I'm still here—on pins and needles. No feedback yet, but I'm feeling fine—no matter what kind of hurling is hurled onto my manuscript, it has proven to be an invaluable experience.

* * *

Sioux Roslawski is one of the founding members of the WWWPs, an infamous writing critique group in St. Louis. Her stories can be found in nine Chicken Soup for the Soul books, along with several volumes in Publishing Syndicate's Not Your Mother's Book series. For more of her musings, go to http://siouxspage.blogspot.com.
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Would you like to participate in Friday "Speak Out!"? Email your short posts (under 500 words) about women and writing to: marcia[at]wow-womenonwriting[dot]com for consideration. We look forward to hearing from you!

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17 comments Friday Speak Out, manuscript critique, Sioux Roslawski, tips for writers, writer inspiration

Surviving a Bad Manuscript Critique

Cathy-on-a-Stick  with sister survivor, Scarlett

I attended a conference recently and it was a pretty swell event, if you don’t count the last fifteen minutes.

I signed on for a professional manuscript critique, and when it was over, I staggered from my seat feeling like Georgia after Sherman marched through it. In fact, I wondered if the critiquer had used Sherman’s slash-and-burn methods (metaphorically) in the hopes that I would use Sherman’s methods (literally) so that no one would ever have to read what I had wrought.

That’s the way it goes with manuscript critiques. Sometimes, they’re very good; other times, they’re just plain rotten. And that can be for the very same manuscript. But I’ve learned how to survive the bad evaluation and go on my merry writing way. And you can, too.

Give Yourself Time

You will want to scream and yell and rip your pages to shreds. Or you will want to bury every shameful word you’ve ever written in a deep, dark hole. Perhaps you will want to bury the critiquer in a deep, dark hole. But what you must do instead is give yourself some time so that the raw emotion swirling in your soul can recede.

I know it’s tempting to wallow in misery, or worse, rant and rave, especially to friends and fellow writers. But resist the urge to vent loudly (particularly if you are within shouting distance of other professionals) and save the tears for the bathroom stall. Find a quiet spot and collect yourself so that you can move on.

Good, Old Perspective

It’s tough when you receive tough criticism. It’s tougher, really, than a curt “not for me” rejection. Because with a critique (which you paid for!), you are forced to sit through the excruciating exercise of someone telling you exactly why your work stinks. What you need is a little perspective.

Here’s what I do. I give myself a pep talk. I think of a time I’ve been challenged and how I survived, and I start to feel a bit empowered. And then I count all the wonderful blessings of my life, and I start to feel grateful. It’s not long before good, old perspective kicks in. The world will keep spinning, friends and family will still love me, and I’ve still got a pretty nice roof over my head—even if my manuscript is the pits. I’m ready to move on to the truth.

Facing the Truth

In the midst of curling into a fetal ball, you may not be ready for the truth of your evaluation. But after time, and a healthy dose of perspective, you can take a look at the notes thoughtfully provided by your critiquer. You can relive that less-than-delightful one-on-one experience and maybe even recall some of what was said.

First, look for the positives. I guarantee you that there will be a note or two of praise in your critique. Second, cling to those words as you peruse the pages and perhaps you’ll have the courage to accept the flaws of your work. You can fix flaws.

Or you can chuck that manuscript and start on something new. Or you can even ignore the entire evaluation. But don’t let one bad critique defeat you. Get back to work and write. After all, tomorrow is another day.

~Cathy C. Hall

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9 comments Cathy C. Hall, critique, manuscript critique, perspective, writing evaluation, writing tip