Critique Ground Rules

In offering: One perfect white rose from the bush in the front garden:

Critique situations have the potential to be fraught with emotional mines. You can make it harder on yourself or you can make it easier.

Hard: just join a group of people you don't know and who don't read the genre you write.
Easier: It helps to at least be familiar with your proposed critique partners. Not everyone has to write the same genre and subgenre, but if you write scifi or erotica, it sure helps to dodge groups full of people allergic to those genres. You'll be happier if you're reading stories you generally like to read and you'll be far more confident of the critiques you'll receive if the people reading you understand the conventions of your genre.

Hard: Mixing beginning writers with very seasoned writers. Not saying this to be a snob. This is about offering critique at a level someone can fully comprehend and *action*. My example: my first few RWA conferences, I had the option to attend Margie Lawson workshops. Went to one and left halfway through because it was so far ahead of where I was as a writer, I couldn't understand what was being presented. Now, after a few books under my belt and a critical eye toward how I put emotion on the page, I can and do grasp the concepts I once couldn't. Further, I can apply the teaching and see the immediate change in my craft. Mixing wildly different skill levels makes life hard for everyone.
Easier: Finding a group of writers who are about at the same level as you are - some are farther along the road and they'll pull you along. A few will be a little way back on the road and you'll help pull them along. It creates synergy.

Once you've found your group, you have to learn how to both accept and offer critique with grace and with humor. These are some hard won ground rules I'm about to lay on you. We won't talk about how I worked them out other than to say it wasn't pretty.

• Leave your defensiveness at the door. Learn to listen with your mouth closed whether you agree or disagree with someone's critique (until it's your turn to talk.)
• Assume the best intentions./Come with the best intentions. If anyone in the group hasn't come to help make books better, you have a problem. Don't be that problem.
  
• Address the writing and only the writing. Zero personal attacks.
• The words 'that's dumb' or 'that's stupid' may never leave your mouth in reference to another person's writing.
• Ask questions. Rather than saying 'you have no point to this scene', ask 'what do you want the point of this scene to be'? This helps if the other writer is getting a little tense in the face of critique. It asks them to think which moves them out of emotion.
  
• Suggest possible fixes for any issues you identify. I'm a stickler for this one - if I can't make a suggestion for something that bothers me, I'll mark the section in text and talk through why I'm bothered and then ask for input from the rest of the group for ideas on how to fix because I care enough about my crit partners that I don't want anyone left hanging.
  
• Offer ideas and suggestions without ego. You're offering up ideas and suggestions, yes, but release any attachment to having someone use them. Your goal is to spark the other person's imagination, not get your way. If you feel really strongly about an idea, use it yourself. Let everyone else decide what's right for their stories.
  
• What happens in critique, stays in critique. Your critique group needs to be a safe space to try new things, make mistakes, learn new technique, and air intellectual property that isn't ready for public consumption. Trust matters for and from all members.
• Share the wealth of knowledge. Recommend classes that helped you. Share notes where it's ethically legit to do so. Remember a rising tide lifts all boats.
  

Critique is hard. There's a lot of emotion involved. Learning to navigate your own and everyone else's is no small task. Give yourself and one another grace. I've learned to couch suggestions in terms of opportunity. Ask anyone who's ever been critiqued by me about my favorite phrase: "I feel like you have an opportunity here to <insert plot point, emotional hit, etc>". It's served me well because it offers a writer choice without intimating that they've done something wrong in their book. I may feel that they *have* done something wrong, but I'm sure not going to say that. Maybe that's the last rule: Care about other people's feelings and remember that WIPs are fragile little birds. Gentle, honest handling strengthens them so that when they are released into the world, they're ready to fly.

Who Do You Trust?

 

The story of critique partners, and alpha and beta readers starts with a couple of questions. Who do you trust? When is it safe to trust, and what problem are you trying to solve?

Critique partners tend to be other writers, people in the trenches doing the same work. In healthy groups, everyone works toward the common goal of making the books, stories, and writing better. A healthy critique group can foster life-long friendships, sure, but they can also make better writers. They're inspiring. If you like the group, you want to write just to have something to take to the meetings. Bad groups drain you. They leave you feeling diminished and exhausted even if everyone was pleasant. They zap your writing energy. If you find yourself in one, get out. A critique group needs to be a circle of people you can trust with tender, newly born ideas.

Critique groups, when they work, solve the biggest writer problems. They can help take a raw, nascent idea and brainstorm with you to flesh out the world, conflict, plot, and characters. A healthy group will not only identify your weak points as a writer, they'll actively help you strengthen them - while you help someone else strengthen theirs.

Alpha readers

These are the individuals you can trust with a crappy first draft. They're usually either authors themselves or very knowledgeable readers who can speak to things like motivation and goal mismatches. Or characters not following through on a piece of foreshadowing you dropped in chapter two. These brave readers search out plot holes and point out spots where the story map loses the reader. Usually, alpha readers already know the story. If only because most of us rely on our critique groups to be alpha readers. I can trust these readers to take a novel that's 2/3 written and tell me where I went wrong. Or right.

Beta readers

Beta readers read for sense, flow, and enjoyment. By the time a writer's idea gets to these readers, most of the issues have been ironed out. The story is generally complete and approaching polish. It might still be rough around the edges, but this group of readers - and they usually are readers rather than fellow authors - are the fine grit phase of running your story through the rock tumbler. You'll get grammar notes and maybe a few 'didn't understand this' beside some paragraphs or scenes. But by this point, no one should be pointing out plot holes you can drive trains through. 

As for when to trust - that's trial and error. When I first started writing, I needed a critique group while I was drafting. Now, I want a complete rough draft before I expose the work to other eyes. Receiving feedback while I'm drafting has become too disruptive. Finding all that out was pure process of trial and error. So was finding a critique group that didn't suck the joy out of writing in the first place. It took a few tries. 

Moral of the story: Writer know thyself. And if you don't, experiment until you do. Feedback fuels some writers and crushes others. Neither one is wrong.

Who to Trust With Your Work - The Junior High Dance Edition

How do you know who to trust with your writing, especially early drafts and idea bouncing.

Yikes. This is such a process of trial and error. It's like those middle school and junior high dances where everyone's awkwardly hugging the edges of the room afraid to ask anyone to dance for fear of rejection or ridicule. Figuring out who you can trust with your well being as well as your heart is part of growing up as a human being. Figuring out who to trust with your writing is part of growing as a writer. And yes. The process is about as painful.

There's so much to learn.What's acceptable behavior. What isn't. What builds you up. What tears you down. That last is really hard because what's soul-killing to one writer will be nourishing for another. I will say this, though. When you find someone you can trust to give you the unvarnished truth about your work in a kind, constructive way, that person will be worth their weight in gold. It took me three dysfunctional groups before I fell by accident into one that taught me not only how to critique, it taught me how to take critique. The authors who welcomed me into that group had hundreds (not kidding) of books pubbed between them. I had zero, and I was still several years away from selling anything. These ladies ripped my manuscript to shreds. It would have been demoralizing except for the fact that they also painstakingly explained what was wrong and how I could fix it. Fantastic learning experience. Still, I could see where it might have been crushing had it come any earlier in my development.

I'll own up to mistakes made along the way, too. There were groups I joined simply because I could. They weren't a good match. Like trying to figure out dating, there's just no way to get out of it without hurting someone else or being hurt yourself. It's part of learning who your matches are. All you can do is try. And then try again. I'm lucky. Persistence paid off in spades. I have so many great critique and beta reading options - people writing and reading in my genre who know the market I'm writing for. Not a one of them is afraid to pull a punch because I'm tougher now. As my confidence has grown and as my trust in my crit readers has likewise grown, I want the bandages ripped off my story wounds. No candy coating. I know these people have my back and want my story to be the best it can be. So I want to get on with making my story better.

It took years to get here. It took some tears. I wish there was a formula for instantly detecting trustworthiness I could offer you. But I'm afraid this is all one grand experiment. Pretty much like the rest of life.

Do You Need a Critique Group - Or Something ELSE?

Yesterday I cooked brunch for writer friends Jim Sorenson and Sage Walker. (That's me in my Orchid Throne apron that the amazingly talented Minerva Spencer made for me. Isn't it awesome??)

We sat in the grape arbor, listened to the bluebirds feed their nestlings, and talked all things writing. Sage and Jim are in the Santa Fe crit group I used to attend. I stopped going last fall because... It just didn't feel worth my time. In fact, it sometimes felt counter-productive as a few of the guys in the group always took pains to mention that they weren't my readers. Fair enough - but then how is their critique useful to me? I stuck with it for quite a while (two years or so), because I thought it MIGHT be useful to me, to get feedback from different quarters. When I was first asked to join, several of my friends gave me the head tilt and said, "But do you need a critique group?"

I thought maybe I did, but it turns out I mostly wanted to talk about writing with other writers.

I liked that aspect, I really did! And I believe in critique. I've been in other critique groups and I've had many critique partners over the years. I cannot emphasize how much those relationships have helped me to develop my craft. (I touched on this in my blog post the other day Silly Writer! Reviews Aren’t for Craft.) But one key skill in being a career author is learning what critique to listen to and what to discard. It's not always easy to get past the emotional flinch at someone criticizing your work - so you have to learn to look past emotion and rationally evaluate the feedback - but you also have to be aware of when that feedback is actually damaging.

For me, I noticed that I came away from the critique sessions feeling bad about my work. Not from everyone. Some in the group found flaws and problems, but that feedback had me fired up to fix it. A few other people... well, I just felt bruised. The big test was when I, weeks later, pulled out some written notes they'd made, and the negative impact just slammed into me.

Ouch. And this was on a draft of The Orchid Throne, which St. Martin's liked enough to buy for decent money.

I mention these specifics to add helpful details, because I know it can be really difficult to parse the flinch from the injury. I'm not casting blame at all, because sometimes that's just how it goes. Not everyone who gives you critique is the right person to do it. (Sometimes jealousy factors in and people are mean for no more reason than that, but usually they mean well and are simply not a good fit for your thing.)

What I've found at this point in my writing career is that I really like - and sometimes need - to talk through story stuff, but not necessarily the full critique drill. With Sage and Jim yesterday, we talked about this world I'm building in this New Shiny book/series. They're both super smart about SF and we argued some of the finer points of how this world would work. That was awesome! I liked that they got me to defend my choices, and they suggested a great solution to a conundrum. It was super helpful and fun. Sage has also sent me some thoughts on what I've written so far. I also asked Marcella Burnard - our Friday poster on the SFF Seven - to take a gander at my opening chapters. She had no context or previous exposure coming into the story, so she was able to give me useful thoughts on what information she needed.

So, all of this is by way of saying that there's lots of ways to get feedback from other authors on our work - and also to give it. Knowing what will be helpful to another author whose work you're reading is a skill worth building, too. (And, to touch back on the reviews thing, that is NOT something a reviewer needs to know how to do. They need to know how to give useful information about a book to other readers, so they can decided if the book might be for them.)

What's most important is to do what's right for the work.