More on criticism: how to give it
In yesterday’s blog, Mary Ann de Stefano of MAD About Words, listed five ways to manage criticism aimed by others. One of the keys was not to let others’ criticism derail your work in progress or your confidence as a writer. The other side of the coin is equally important: when we give criticism to other writers, we hold the same power over them our critics may hold over us. And since we, as the critics, cannot control for our targets’ reaction, it’s incumbent on us to be responsible in providing critiques.
Here are some potential tips for giving criticism. As brilliant and wonderful as I am, I can’t cover all of them, so feel free to add or disagree.
- Talk about how the writing affected you. As a single critic (or critiquer, as the case may be), you aren’t omniscient. You can only talk about how the work affected you. “This part confused me. I wasn’t clear on the relationship between the narrator and the person he was dealing with.” “This was a highly emotional scene and it left me dry. It seemed like the protagonist wasn’t emotionally engaged here, and as a result, I didn’t feel the emotional engagement it felt like I should.” “I couldn’t keep these two characters separate because they didn’t seem that different.”
- Point out the challenge, but don’t fix it. I have to be honest–this was an area of struggle for me. I want to fix stuff. I just know that if person X had done thing Y, this scene would have worked better. As a critic/critiquer, that’s no my job. That’s the writer’s job. It’s not my work, it’s hers. She’s done a pretty good job at some parts. If I fix the problem, I take away the learning opportunity. And the writer’s eventual solution may be better than mine.
- Find something positive, if at all possible. Anyone who has written has written something perfectly wretched. That includes you, me, Uncle Ernest, Mr. King, and the hotte$t woman in England, JK Rowling. So when your subject writes something perfectly wretched, they’re joining a club you already belong to. Find something that works, no matter how small. Especially with a new writer.
- Be honest. In my first critique group, there was one writer whose work wasn’t strong. It was confusing and undeveloped. He did his best, and he was a very nice man, but the work wasn’t all that good. In finding something positive, it would have been easy to gloss over problems. But if someone comes to a critique group, they’re there for your opinion, not for ego puffing. Be constructive, but honest. “This is a waste of paper, toner, and electricity” probably isn’t the best way. “I think you really need to work on the following things…” is a good way. If the person receiving the critique can’t take constructive criticism, that’s not your problem.
- Be extra gentle with newbies. The exception to the rule is a newbie. If someone’s defensive at the first couple critiques, it’s important to give honest feedback, but also to re-enforce the rules. “I’m giving you honest feedback because you asked for it, and because it will help you improve as a writer. It’s hard to hear, especially when you first start. But it really isn’t personal.” The first few times–especially the first time, they’re going to be terrified that what they turned in is really, really bad and they’ve embarrassed themselves–probably like you were. Don’t forget that feeling.
- Don’t hold back on the old hands who hit home runs. I’ve hit a home run in my critiques more than once. But I’ve also laid eggs. And I’ve had people give me a pass because I hit a lot of home runs. I don’t want people to give me a pass. I want them to be honest. I can take it. If I lay an egg, it’s probably because I’m trying something new and I need the feedback to improve it. Old hands shouldn’t view criticism or critiques as an ego-building exercise. That’s inappropriate and counterproductive. If the star of your group lays an egg, he needs to know it.
As someone who’s had some fantastic feedback over the years, I understand its value. And to pay the effort of my critics forward, it seems appropriate for me to use the same approach to my criticism as they used in theirs. Anything less shortchanges the subject of my criticism. It also shortchanges me. I’ve learned as much from solid critiques of others’ works as from solid critiques of my own.