Hello guys, and welcome to the first of my Thursday workshops! Kudos to those of you who did some writing in response to the prompt, I got some wonderful work from you!
Thursday workshops are going to be mostly dedicated to talking about some of the great literary tools a writer can use to make their work jump out and hit you in the face, or just general things that are important for writers to know. Today's post will be more of the latter; it's something I think is particularly important, considering how many betas we have here. I'll be talking about important things to keep in mind when critiquing someone else's work.
People have the unfortunate tendency to think that, in critiquing, anything goes. This is especially true on the internet, but there was always at least one person in every workshop who believed this. And sure. Technically, you can say anything to the writer. But if you're concerned with giving useful criticism, there are important things to remember.
I've been lucky enough to have teachers who wrote amazing critiques that helped me a lot. Here are some of the things they taught me:
1. Positive feedback is not sugarcoating. "But I'm a naturally blunt person!" you say. That's fine. But there are several reasons why starting out with what the writer did well is a good idea. First of all, it makes them more receptive to criticism. Writers can be a touchy bunch; if your critique is entirely negative, the more sensitive ones may feel discouraged from working on their piece further. But if you take the time to tell them how much you, as a reader, enjoyed it, then they'll have the energy and enthusiasm to go back and fix their problems. Pointing out their strengths also helps fix said problems, by showing them an example of how it looks when they do it right.
2. Try not to speak in absolutes. If you find yourself writing "you need to" or "you have to," stop for a moment. Keep in mind that the writer doesn't have to take your advice if they don't feel it is best, regardless of whether it is or not. If you come across something you feel could be done better, making suggestions by saying "try to do this" and "maybe you could see if this works?" will encourage them to do just that. Of course, for things like tense-switching, consistent spelling and grammar errors, or other technical problems, there's nothing presumptuous about saying "you need to fix this."
3. This isn't your piece. You'd think that would be a given, but I've run into so many people who didn't get this simple idea. When editing someone's piece, you may make some radical suggestions, such as removing entire scenes, or switching the placement of poetry stanzas. Before you make a suggestion like this, ask yourself, "Would that turn this into my piece?" Every writer has a different style and sensibility. Make sure that your inclination to switch things around isn't actually a desire to force your style on the writer.
4. Don't be a jerk. "But I'm a naturally blunt person!" you say again. And sometimes, errors just need to be pointed out. But there is a way to do that. "But the piece sucks!" you say. And maybe it does. Actually, it probably does. There is a whole lot of crap out there. But even most of the error-ridden pieces you'll see had effort put into them, and you have the opportunity to try to set this writer on the right track to improvement! Saying things like "I hate it," "This sucks," or "I don't get it" is lazy, and an insult to the effort put into the piece, awful as it may be. Be patient with the writer. Use the tips above to write them a well thought out critique. And they're much more likely to swallow it.
Of course, there are always writers who are dead-set on being difficult, and will want to argue with you that their piece is perfect. If it gets to that point, then let them have the last word and step out of the conversation. Now, sit back, and soothe your frustration by reminding yourself that they're the ones who will be embarrassed when they show an error-riddled piece to a publisher. Or, better yet, the entire internet. I'm not sure who would rip them apart first.
