Posted in Critiquing, Electronic Critiquing

Critiquing Electronically

I’m not someone who jumps instantly for the latest and greatest thing. I don’t own an e-reader of any sort, my cellphone is a phone and camera, and that’s about it. And it’s taken me a while to really accept electronic editing.

I did a little bit of it when I was freelance editing. And I stick notes to myself into my writing all the time. But I still considered that I couldn’t read as “well” or as deeply on the computer, as I did with a paper manuscript and a pen.

I’m changing my mind. The shift happened when, with the edits for The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide, I was on the other end of the feedback. All my edits, both developmental and copyediting, have come to me over email, in the file. Changes were marked with Word’s Track Changes feature, and all the editors have left nice, detailed, helpful comments in the margin, through Word’s Comment tool.

Putting the changes in was great. Not only was everything marked at the place where there was a problem, but I could read everything so easily–no trying to figure out whether a letter was an o or an a, no translating of entire words that I couldn’t read at first glance.

And lately I’ve been critiquing for other writers in the file, using these same tools. So far, it seems to be working great. Maybe it’s just taken me this long to be able to read deeply on a computer, but I don’t seem to be struggling to stay with the manuscript, and I’m not missing the feel of the pages in my hands. Actually, it just makes it a lot easier to be able to open up my laptop whenever I’ve got some work to do, rather than tote the messy, loose stack of 200+ pages around the house. Or to the coffeehouse.

The writers I’ve been doing this for seem happy with the results as well. I check with them first, just in case they hate the idea of not having my handwritten notes to think about. They all seem to prefer the in-file changes, probably because those handwritten notes have never been all that legible! And, really, they can work with the feedback on-screen, with their own computer, or they can get a print-out and read the notes on a hard-copy while they revise.

I think I’ve made the change. It feels good–yes, the trees can still get used up for the print-out (although with my new, two-sided printer, it’s only HALF the trees), but not always. My guess is the more we do this, the less we’ll need the hard copy to work from. And it means we can really critique back & forth with anyone we want–local or distant, without having to make that stop at the post office, with the big, heavy manuscript envelope. It’s widening our writing community at the same time as it tightens the connections we already have.

It’s going to make it easier to find critique partners and groups. And you know I think that’s a good thing.

So maybe an e-reader is a good thing, too? 🙂

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, 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? 🙂

Posted in Critiquing, First Drafts, Setting, Specifics

Concrete, Solid Specifics

A biggie for me, when I edit or critique, is pushing encouraging writers to really get specific and concrete in their writing. You hear a lot about using strong verbs, but I think we also need strong nouns, adjectives, adverbs, conjunctions, articles, you name it.

You hear a lot about using details, and I think sometimes, we get carried away by quantity and forget to really pick and choose the right detail (or two) for the moment. Right to me is the detail, whether I’m working on a setting, a thread of internal thought, an action, or a voice, that hits it just right, that evokes an equally strong, solid response in the reader.

I’ll probably come back to this thread in future posts, so I’m not going to try and cover all the ways I think you can weave specifics into your writing. (I’d overwhelm you, you’d throw something (hopefully soft) at your computer, and you might never come back!) Today, I’m just going to talk about setting.

Read this, please:

The mountain was in front of her, the path going up it through the trees. The wind blew, and clouds moved across the sky, making shadows that made the forest even darker. The air was cold, and she pulled her coat closer around her, trying to shut out the silence as well as the cold. She started walking again, up and up, one foot after the other, ignoring the distance that was left.

Now, this:

The huge stone loomed ahead of her, the path struggling up its chipped, hard surface through the pines. The wind sighed, and gray stormclouds gusted across the sky, casting shadows that turned the forest almost black. The air was icy, and she tugged her parka close around her thin body, hoping to shut out the loud silence, as well as the deep chill. She started climbing again, up and up, one heavy boot after the other, ignoring the height she still faced.

Okay, all I did here, pretty much, was replace a word. I added a few. I may very well have gone overboard, just by playing, but reread the two passages. Which one paints you a more clear picture? Which one brings you closer to the scene this woman is moving through, makes you experience more of what she’s experiencing.

These kinds of details are not something to worry about in a first draft (especially if you’re doing NaNo!). Often, we really do just throw our settings onto the page, giving them a placeholder in the scene where they belong. Later, then, we actively research that setting, go physically to the place we’re describing or send some time with it in our imagination. Your critique group 🙂 can help you with the balance of detail–how much is enough, and how much is…well, too much.

Whatever you settle on, though, every setting deserves revision time, a few passes, to make sure your details are the right ones–strong, sensory specifics.

Posted in Critiquing

Opening the Critique Discussion

One of the reasons I started this website is that there was a pretty serious curve in my own writing path this year. Up until last spring, I was writing mostly fiction and filling in gaps with freelance manuscript editing. Then I pitched a critique-book idea to an editor at Writer’s Digest and found myself with a nonfiction book contract. The Critiquer’s Survival Guide was born.

Okay, well, it won’t be born for another year, but the writing commitment it was going to take from me was definitely given a kick in the you-know-what.

Anyway, it felt like time to change the look and focus of my site, so here you go. Ta da!

While I write this book (and for quite some time, afterward, I suspect) I’ll be thinking a lot about critique groups and about the critique process–how to really dig deep into a story and provide thorough, constructive, and–yes–supportive feedback. So, one of the things I’d like to do with this website is use it as a central “location” for people to talk about this topic. I’d like for people to feel they can come here with questions, for answers, to brainstorm techniques, and to troubleshoot any problems. We’ll use the comments section a lot, I hope, and I’ll take what seem big questions and ideas and see about turning them into new posts–for new discussions!

Now, I’m going to be honest here. You know those times when you are trying to tell a story to a group of very young children? Let’s say you’re telling them about a trip you and your grandfather took to the zoo. You have this great set-up, and you’ve got some funny stuff along the way for details, and there is a whiz-bang ending that will tie it all up into a beautiful package. And what do the kids do? They (hopefully!) raise their hands, all of them, to tell you about the time they went to the zoo, and theysaw an elephant (or a zebra or a boa constrictor or an okapi), and then the parrot “messed” on their little brother’s cotton candy, and they never did get to the platypus exhibit! And maybe the kids even start pushing each other if they don’t think they’re getting their turn, and somebody throws a cookie, and someone else uses the word “stupid.”

🙂

You get the picture. Let’s keep our discussions on topic and respectful–hey, kind of like a critique group
! I want to hear any and all opinions, but I will delete comments that I think cross a line. (Don’t worry–I know that any of you who have already stopped by don’t need to hear that, but I’m sticking it in for a just-in-case, I-warned-you scenario for the future!

So what do you think? Any takers? Does this sound like a good idea to anybody but me? For this first post, is there a question you’ve had for a while about how critique groups work, or what kind might be best-suited to you? Throw a comment in, and let’s see what we all get back!