Posted in Critique Groups

Critique Groups: Genre-Based or Not?

In The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide, I talk about various “kinds” of groups a writer can join or start for themselves. One of these kinds of groups is a genre-based group. By this, I mean that everybody in the group is writing the same kind of material—whether that be fiction, memoir, how-to, or poetry.

Do I think a genre-based group is a good way to go? Sure. Do I think it’s absolutely necessary? No.

The bottom line of any good critique group is that the various members are supportive, respectful, and constructive. That last criteria means that the members do truly help each other dig deeply into writing projects and make serious, substantive changes. If you know a set of writers who you believe can help you do this and for whom you think you can return the service, then grab then, set up a place and time, and start critiquing.

If, however, you’re looking for a new group or setting out to build your own group, and two or three writers’ names aren’t just springing to mind, consider making your group genre-specific. Here are some of the benefits:

  • If you’re looking for an online group, it may be easier to find one that is genre-based. National and regional associations like SCBWI or RWA often have resources for finding a group or posting about one you’re building. These groups are usually made up of writers working in one genre.
  • Every writer in the group will be reading in that genre. (If they’re not, they’d better get started.) You’ll all be more aware and more educated about what is being published and what makes a strong well-written mystery, or romance novel, or picture book. Or whatever form it is that you’re writing.
  • As you critique, you’ll not only help the other writers in your group, but you’ll learn from your own critiquing—about your genre.
  • You can share information about agents and editors. You’ll all be doing your publishing research and education in the same areas–you can talk about articles you’ve read, pass on who might be a good person to follow on Twitter or Facebook, and discuss who’s going to be accepting pitches at what conference.
  • You can consider, as you get closer to submitting and (hopefully!) being published, setting up a group blog. Group blogs are often genre-based, and sharing the posting cycle can take some of the load off your individual shoulders. Watch this carefully, though. If you sense at all that sharing a blog may threaten the cohesiveness or productivity of your critique group, consider whether this is a step to take together, or separately.

Now remember, the most important thing about a critique group is that you feel your writing is growing and that you are learning from the critique process. It’s more than possible to achieve this with several writers working in different genres. My current critique groups are a mix. One writer also does MG and YA. Another has two mystery series in publication. Another has worked on “grown-up” mysteries, as did I for many years. She’s now working on a nonfiction book, and they just critique the Survival Guide for me over the past few months.  I wouldn’t trade these critiquers for anything.

On the other hand, I do keep expanding my network of kids’ writers. When Caro’s story is done, really close to being ready to submit, I’ll probably put out feelers to some of these writers and talk about swapping critiques. Because, again, writers in this genre will have a unique take on my story, and it will be a take I highly value.
What about you? Who critiques your writing, and whose writing do you critique? What are the pluses you find in working with writers in the same genre? Or in critiquing from a wider base?
Posted in Critique Groups, The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide

Critique Partners–Why Start with One?

In The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide, I talk about ways to find a critique group and ways to start your own. There are lots of reasons why you might build your own group–from not finding an existing group that works for you to wanting just a little bit more control over how your group is run.

If you’re setting out to grow a critique group, I really recommend starting small–with one critique partner. Why? Well, I’ll tell you.

  • It’s often easier (and faster) to find one other writer who’s looking to critique, than it is to find several all at once.
  • Building a critique group is a little bit like cooking. if you throw all the spices into the pot at once, it’s hard to tell–if the recipe doesn’t taste right–which spice might be the problem. If you get together with three or four other writers/critiquers at the same time, and the group is having some problems, it may be tricky to figure out which critiquers you fit with and which you don’t.
  • To carry on the cooking metaphor, once you’ve tossed in all those spices, it’s a little tricky to pull out the one that makes the recipe too bitter, or even too sweet. 🙂 Ditto with a critique group, if you invite several writers all at once, and one doesn’t click with another, you have some not easy choices to make and actions to take. If you and a critique partner aren’t a match, it’s simpler to back up and both start over on your hunts.
  • With one critique partner, you can test things out. You can more easily see what works for the both of you, from things as basic as what time to meet to deciding what to do when you don’t have anything to critique (Hint: You could always write!). You can set the group up so that the two of you are happy, then add another member.
  • You get a chance to find that one, at least, critique partner who is your dream. From then on, you have a core group. My “rule” is that, once you have a core group that works–whether that core is two critiquers, or three, or four–that core is what matters. If you interview a new writer and one of the core members isn’t comfortable with them, the new writer isn’t invited to join. If you add someone to the group, and one of the core members has a (consistently bad) problem with their critiques, the group talks to the new member about troubleshooting and, if necessary, asks them to leave. Again, starting with one good critique partner lets you establish this core.

Of course, the next question is, where do you find this critique partner. Well, the same places you look for a group–in writing clubs, at conferences, by posting on craigslist or at the bookstore, and online. I’m not saying it’ll be an easy search, but I do believe your writing is worth it.

Posted in Critique Groups, Critiquing, Revising

Critiques: Writing up the Big Stuff

At my workshop last weekend, for the Redwood Writers, I took the participants through a few of the basics of critiquing:

  • Reading the manuscript
  • Writing the critique
  • Presenting the critique 

After a few minutes of my blathering talking, I had them get into groups and practice these basics. Then I critiqued their critique and we talked out a few things.

One of these things was the overall write-up that I recommend doing for every critique. I had some experienced and strong critiquers in the workshop, and this wasn’t something they were all used to doing. They had good reasons–available time and the size of their groups, and I didn’t–I hope–push them too hard to change the critique methods that were working for them.

I did, though, spend a few minutes mulling over why I think this written critique is important.

What I’m talking about here is the summary a critiquer gives the writer–the page or two of clearly written, full-sentence comments about any big problems the critiquer is seeing in the manuscript. These are comments about things like the overall plot, the character development, the clarity of instructions, and the strength of the author’s voice. Yes, of course, the critiquer has marked these problems as they noticed them on the manuscript pages, but this write-up is an extra step.

Here’s why I think this summary is important:

  • Writing it helps the critiquer clarify their ideas. This doesn’t only help the writer, but pushes the critiquer, too, further along the learning curve we’re all on.
  • The summary saves the critique session from being too rambly. If everybody just makes notes on their pages, then reads through them, the critiques are missing the big picture, the birds-eye view of the manuscript. The critiquers end up focusing on the words and sentences, at a time when the writer may actually need to step back from those words and think about bigger concepts for revision.
  • No matter how supportive and respectful a critique is, the feedback can still feel overwhelming & intimidating. It can be hard for a writer to actually “hear” everything the critiquer is telling them, to absorb and understand it all. Having written comments to look at after the critique session can be invaluable to the author.
  • I am an advocate of the Don’t-Revise-Until-You’ve-Finished-the-Draft school of thought. In other words, if I send in a couple of chapters for my critique group to read, I’m going to keep writing. When I get their comments, I’ll read through them, but then I’ll set them aside until I have written all the way through my current draft–at which time, I’ll look at ALL the comments I’ve received and get ready to revise/write the next draft.
    If you also work this way (yay!), it can be weeks, or months, after you receive a critique that you start incorporating it into your manuscript. If you have to go back through 300 pages (times three or four critiquers) and sort through all the line-by-line comments, you’re going to feel lost before you get started. If you have a summary write-up for every chapter, from every critiquer, you have a solid place to start thinking about your revision. You have a way in.

In my book, The Writing Group Survival Guide, I incorporate this step–the step of writing up the big stuff–into the basic procedures for critiquing. If you’re in a critique group, or have been, was this part of your process?

Leave me your thoughts in the comments. 🙂

Posted in Critique Groups, Critiquing, Revising

Receiving a Critique: What Can YOU Do?

There are two sides to every coin and, almost always, to every situation. This rule applies very well to critique groups.  I’ve always known this, but it’s hitting home again as I work on The Critiquer’s Survival Guide. (Half the book is heading to the editor this week–three cheers!)
I hear a lot of stories about writers worried about how they’ll feel when they get critiqued. Either they’ve had a bad experience in a critique group, or they’re worried about heading into one.  I discuss these situations in my book, and I’m sure I’ll blog about them here.
Today, though, it’s another post. And this one is going to talk about our responsibilities when we arebeing critiqued. Everybody in a critique group trades roles back and forth, and each role–even that of critiquee–has a few tasks that go with it.
When you are being critiqued, you need to:
  • Listen
    You’ve all heard the duct-tape threat; it will be used on any writer who interrupts, defends, or argues in response to a critique. I don’t go QUITE that far. It is important, though, to give the critiquer the same respect (by listening & taking notes) that they have given to reading your work and writing out their feedback.
  • Ask questions.
    I know. I just said not to interrupt, and I’m sticking to that. Write the question down and wait until the critiquers are done talking. You might hear the answer you need, without having to ask. And if you’re truly confused, raise your hand. Ask and be answered, then go back to step 1–listening.
  • Think
    Spend time with the feedback you get and consider each point. Yes, you know your project very well, but you don’t know it perfectly. Fresh eyes, from a strong reader, can provide a solution to the problem you’ve been wrestling with or send your project in a new, brilliant direction. Just because an idea doesn’t resonate with you the first time you hear it, take note and give that idea full consideration when you go over the critique.
  • Revise.
    I know. Of course, revise. But with the critique pages at your side. Look at each comment your critiquers have made and mentally lay that comment aside your project. Does it have validity? Will it improve the writing or the overall book? Is it possible, even if the critiquer’s feedback seems off, that the passage they pointed to is having a problem? And really, really analyze the big critique elements–plot, character, structure, voice. This is what you’ve asked your critique partners to do: dig deep into your project and help you see the best vision for it. You asked, they gave. Now use it.

Yes, of course, my list assumes that you are working with supportive, encouraging, and skilled critiquers. That’s my wish for you, and that’s a big goal you should be shooting for.  You should also, though, be remembering your part of the whole, and making sure you’re shouldering that commitment.

Posted in Critique Groups, Query Letters, Revising, The Writing Path

When to Query

This week, I’m sending out some queries. I’m as sure as I can be that these are queries I need to send, and that my project is where it needs to be to show to an agent. I know, though, that this is a big question I hear lots of writers asking–when is the right time to send that letter?

The answer is, I believe, not until your book is done. Or, if you’re writing an nonfiction book proposal, not until the proposal is done.

There are two things about this answer–first, it might seem obvious. Actually, though, I hear a lot of writers talking about sending queries out before they’ve finished revising their projects. I think they figure that there will be time, while their letter is making its way to the top of the slush pile,  for them to finish that revision. Alert: I sent one email query out at 3:00 in the afternoon and got my reply back at 6:00 that evening. No, it wasn’t a request for more pages, but I’d have been ready if it was.

Why set an agent up to want your book, if you aren’t ready to show them the whole thing? Why risk frustrating them, because you queried too soon? Wait until the book is done.

Which takes us to the second thing about my answer–another question. How do you know when your book is done. Completely done. Beautifully done. Seamlessly done.

You’re never 100% sure. At least I’m not. But you can go through a basic checklist and test your gut reaction to the questions on it. Here we go:

  • Have you written the book from beginning to end?
  • Have you rewritten that book several times?
  • Have your revision passes made substantial changes to plot, character, voice…all the biggies?
  • Have you shown your book to other people, preferably a well-read, deep-reading, serious critique group? More than once?
  • Have you incorporated the feedback of those people into you book? Yes, again, more than once?
  • When you read your project, does it feel cohesive, a complete, seamless entity? Does it feel like…a book?
  • Are you not avoiding thinking about a passage, a scene, or a chapter that jumps out at you as not fitting? Denial about not needing that next piece of chocolate is okay. Denial about fixing your project is not.

Yes, this is a lot of work. And it takes a lot of time. There is no way, though, that this time and energy is a waste.  Nothing that makes your book more ready to hook an agent could be.

Posted in Critique Groups, First Drafts

Critique Groups: Knowing You Have Readers

This week, as I continue drafting The Critiquer’s Survival Guide, I’ve been grateful–again–for my critique group. I’ve been working on a few chapters that have less of a “template”  to them than some of the earlier ones. I hit some frustration points, some places where I had to slow down, take a few steps back, revisualize what I was doing, then dig in again. As of today, I’m pretty happy with what I’ve got. I think it’s good.

But here’s reason 6,381 why I love my critique group. At this point in the process, I don’t have to know for sure. Because of my critique group, the chapters will have a trial run.

I’ve done a lot of different jobs that revolved around words, and I’ve never underestimated the value of having some kind of editor look at my work. When I did closed-captioning for television, it was a relief to know that somebody would review my captions, significantly reducing my odds of sending some stupid mistake out over the airwaves. As a technical writer, I loved knowing that there were a copy editor and a proofreader standing sitting ready at their spots on the production line. And now, as I write fiction and nonfiction, I am thrilled that I can send chapters along to my critique group, knowing they’ll tell me what they love and what…well, not so much.

This probably sounds like I’m lazy. And I definitely am–about things like housecleaning and gardening and laundry. About my writing? No. It’s not laziness to want a few pairs of  fresh eyes to read your work. It’s not laziness to let my writing flow quickly and freely, to slam the door on that inner editor, to trust that the rough drafting I do will take me somewhere strong. It’s not laziness. It’s appreciation.

Because all this is what my critique group gives me.

We’ve all heard, or experienced, horror stories about critiquers who trash an author’s writing, then proceed to dicate the book that author “should” be writing. Yes, when you step out to share your writing, you face this risk. I think, though, that it’s a small one, compared to the huge benefits a strong, supportive group can give you.  And, if you’re  considering publication at all–now or in the future– it’s a risk you’re going to have to take someday.

Why not do it now?

Posted in Critique Groups, Critiquing

R…E…S…P…E…C…T

As I put together the proposal for the book I’m writing for Writer’s Digest, The Critiquer’s Survival Guide, and as the editors at Writer’s Digest polled people about what they’d want in this kind of a book, I heard a lot about the qualities people are looking for (or haven’t managed to find) in a critique group. I heard words like support and encouragement.

And respect.

Respect is important when you’re in a critique group, no question. As writers, we work hard to think through our ideas, develop our characters and plotlines, and put our words on the page. We expect, and deserve, those words to be treated as important and valuable.

When I talk to people, I hear horror stories of a critiquer who tried to rewrite another person’s story, or who hit the ground of the critique session running, with nothing, but negative & nasty comments  to voice. And many people who haven’t had this kind of experience hesitate to expose their work for critique, out of fear that such a moment is lurking just around the corner.

Obviously, this kind of critique is the very opposite of respectful. The effort and energy it takes to hit someone this hard could just as easily, more easily, be expended to build a critique that is supportive and encouraging. And helpful.

Because the definition of respect that I hear most often, in terms of critique groups, is, I think, a bit too narrow. Yes, respectful does mean remembering that you, the critiquer, are not this story’s author. Respectful does mean not blasting your critique partner out of the chair with the feeling that what they have written is trash. But respectful, in a critique group, means some things that are not that often addressed.

To respect your critique partner’s writing, you must:

  • Give their writing your complete attention.
  • Stop when you read something that feels flawed and weak.
  • Analyze your reaction, looking for the reason behind your response.
  • Put time into clearly explaining the problem you have found.
  • Make  constructive suggestions for ways the author could improve the passage.

In other words, in a critique group, respect means not just valuing your critique partners’ writing, but taking it seriously. Seriously enough to help them break it down, take it apart into pieces, and put it all back together again. As many times as needed, as many times as the author is ready and willing.

Respect does NOT mean tiptoeing across the pages that a writer has handed you, skimming the surface searching only for things to praise and maybe a comma placement or two that you can correct. Respect does not mean leaving your critique partner alone, trying to sort through their own story for what works and what doesn’t.

Can this be done with kindness? With support and encouragement? Of course it can. It takes the same amount of time and energy to critique as it does to criticize. Yes. They’re different words. Very different.

By now, you can tell I’ve got a soapbox here. Maybe that’s why I’m getting the chance to write this book. You think? 🙂