In a recent interview, Percival Everett said, "The writing doesn't make the meaning, but instead, allows the reader to generate the meaning he or she needs to move forward.... People come to art to learn something about themselves.”
I'm fascinated by this process. In my workshop teaching and in my own writing groups, students and friends make comments, give feedback, and these discussions are samplings of what all the people in the world might make of the draft in front of us. The writer can see it this way: the readers are making meaning using their minds/experiences/philosophies/subjectivities.
George points to how a piece either freezes with praise or wilts with negative reactions, and I have experienced this. However, I find the perspective that I speak of (above) serves as a kind of buoy. The praise or critique is less likely to sink my desire to continue revising a piece after it has been workshopped.
The general guidance that I give when asking someone to read a draft of mine is, "What pops? What holds your attention? Alternatively, what bumps? What throws you out of the story? Where does your attention lag?"
A teacher of mine, Diana Burbano (playwright) used this guidance in a class I took from her at South Coast Rep, and I've used it ever since in my own teaching.
Yes, the freezing or the sinking! I think it’s literally having your head turned, so that you ‘look up from the page’, and begin to regard human reaction as the litmus of validation. I think to sustain a good piece of writing one must look to the page, look to the page, to see what’s emerging there, and be sensitive to the tiny nuances that are nudging you in particular directions, within the gradual acquaintance with the thing itself.. If you get feedback too soon it can drown out your ear, and make your eyesight too muddied to stay in tune with the signals you’re receiving from the piece itself, and it’s natural inclinations. Well, this is what I personally find with my own process.
But once you’re far enough towards the end, the piece’s natural essence of character is formed, and I guess good feedback can hint at other options which are interesting, but more akin to a choice about what bits of clothing you want the thing to wear, or where it can do with a bit of exercise to tone it up, whilst still saying true to that essence.
Merrie, your words here describe the truth of the process so beautifully ~ lyrically. This poem, prose poem, is a gift to me that I'll read again and again. Thank you for the metaphors of clothing, toning, tuning into the signals of the piece, to what is emerging.
Your words are pure magic!
"Look to the page...look up from the page..." while being careful not to let the feedback "drown out your ear and make your eyesight too muddied to stay in tune...with it's natural inclinations."
Thanks, Diane! I’m glad you found something usable in it, that rings for you, or you recognise somehow in your own process. I guess it’s a subconscious mooring mantra for when the process goes awry, or you have to cross the inevitable chasm of seeming impossibility which arises at the beginning of every new piece: ‘Look to the page! Look to the page!’
The word "writer" could easily replace "reader" in the Everett quote. In fact, I'm going to use that as a touchstone for my writing over the next few weeks.
1. I don't give anyone a story (or novel) to read until I feel like it's complete. Then, I ask a few people to read--friends who are big readers, who like to talk about books and stories (though not necessarily writers), friends I trust. I say, tell me what you think. I say, I think it's done, but....what do you think? What helps me the most are real notes--"Right here, my attention dropped out." "Right here, I feel like I need to know more." "Right here seems to go too fast." "This part really confused me." etc.
2. I rarely read anyone's manuscript. They have to be a very good friend. I always ask in advance what it is they want from me--what kind of comments. I'm only good with giving notes if the manuscript is already good. If a story isn't very good or needs a lot of work, I'm usually at a loss as to what to say. So that's why i usually say no when someone asks me to read. I don't like to hurt anyone's feelings.
3. How often do I ask someone to read? Hmmm. Not too often, really. But i'm not terribly prolific.
4. I know there wasn't a fourth question, but I'm going to give an answer anyway. I am not at all a fan of writer's groups. I would never show anyone my work in progress. I don't think it's helpful and can actually be harmful. I trust myself to write and revise a story. Then I let it sit. Then I look at it again and see what I think. Usually, there will be another revision at this time. Only when it's "done" do i show it to anyone.
Writers' groups can work, but it very much depends on the group. I've been in some disastrous ones, some meh ones, and one good one. Being in these groups has made me a better, more generous and precise reader.
"big readers, who like to talk about books" Yes and whether one judges or is being judged, the most important issue is genre. Fantasy readers are unable to judge upmarket, and vice versa.
I belong to a writing critique group of about 10 people. We meet once a month and critique 2 short stories or novel chapters. Usually, when someone's work is being critiqued, the writer asks for specific comments about pacing, or the beginning (or ending) or whether there are too many characters, or the general flow of the story (does it keep the reader interested.) Sometimes the writer will ask for suggestions for a title. We used to use a traditional workshop format, but in recent years, we've abandoned this and just talk as a group with the writer listening and taking notes. This tends to work well for all of us. We do critique an already read story that has been revised but that's it. Then the writer is on their own. These are rules that we've set down and everyone agreed to.
I have never asked a friend to read a full manuscript for free out of respect for their limited time. I usually ask the same friend to read my grant applications and I do the same thing for him, so I don’t feel guilty. I have hired a professional editor for my current manuscript. She is a dear friend who happens to be an excellent writer. She offered to do this for free. I refused. Because I know how much work it takes. I won’t give her the script until a first, solid draft is ready. Ideally no typos and spelling mistakes. Again, out of respect for her time. I ask her to review it once, and once only! She gives me detailed line by line edit but also a more general feedback on the script. She is very familiar with my work. When I budgeted for her payment, it was very important for me to make sure the payment was fair! I think to expect anyone to do 3-6 times the edit for you, unpaid, is asking too much! Even once for free is a lot!
So i think boundaries are very important. I set up an editing service on my website recently when I had too many friends asking me for very big edits, for free, just so I could say, “would be happy to. Check out my price list.” This was not to start a new career in editing, but to remind people that writing is what I do and should be compensated for. I am a single mother with 2 teenage kids and a book to complete. Sorry, no time for big asks for free. Hope this helps. (Forgive the typos. Writing this on my phone with no editor…)
This! “Even once for free is a lot!” My first thought when I read the query was that this screenwriter friend is addicted to the feedback: the thrill of approbation and the anguish of criticism. Some people get stuck in the refining process and love the endorphin rush of reading what someone has to say about their writing, to the point they’ve let it impede their progress. You know the feeling, right? When you see the red pen marks or the little comment boxes and your heart races…
Agreed. Ultimately it’s perfectionism. Perfectionism is a function of shame. (Brene Brown is eloquent on the subject-wanting to control everything to prove yourself worthy, etc.) And wow do we writers face that demon! Once I recognized the tendency in myself to want endless feedback I realized I was afraid of being judged, but of course, still wanted to hear people tell me how worthy I am to be a real writer. What a mind-f@&$. My bigger problem now is getting my butt in the chair, and that’s its own avoidant behavior, but I get better every day.
Imola I totally agree! What great advice about putting “editing services” on your website. I think it’s important to ask what specific questions the writer has. Just being able to formulate the questions shows me what I am uncertain about.
Very pertinent topic, today - I am right in the middle of such a situation!
I don’t tend to give people short stories to read too often. However, I just fished a novelette/novella of around 14,000 words, and thought I would test if my self-appraisal of it, in other words my judgement, was as accurate as I think. So I made an exception and have given it to two readers: one a fellow writing friend who I used to be in a regular critique group with; and another, another articulate friend who runs a reading group. I thought it might be interesting to see from the perspective of a ‘casual’ reader, and a talented writer.
In both cases I’m looking to see their natural reading rhythm / whether it’s a story which compels only one or two sittings, or if it’s more broken up than that - and how did that affect their continuity, since it’s a story with time shifts. also
-what held their attention
-anything that lost it
-anywhere they were confused or unclear.
/anything else which occurs to them.
Before they answer any of these specific queries I’ve asked them to read it through first and just ‘notice what they notice’ - so their reactions are hopefully fairly organic in the first instance. This is a fairly rudimentary/skeletal form of how I myself assess a manuscript in progress as a paid service. But they aren’t getting paid and I will only ask them to read once
I’m afraid I can’t report on its success, since I only sent them out a few days ago! But the story feels definitely fairly polished to me ie. close to submission-ready after quite a few drafts. Fingers crossed!
Other than proofing, which is extremely generous, friends and family are very poor beta readers. Of course they like it. They're friends and family : )
I agree. My mom likes everything I write, and will not find a single flaw. My brother at least will find typos and other small errors like that, he'll usually send me back three or four pages... and he's a gun nut, so he can correct anything I write wrong when the piece involves firearms.
Pretty much... I tend to have guns in my stories, even though I hate things, have only ever shot a 22 rifle once when I was in Boy Scouts. My brother on the other hand, owns 20 or more guns, and claims every one of them has a purpose, (like what? Is this one for trimming high tree branches, that one is for when the Red Coats attack..) I think guns are an addiction for some people.
Fear? Well that's a little rough. As a writer for outdoor magazines, a great market btw, there's a lot of guns. I know a lot of hunters. They're a pretty mild bunch.
I agree that friends and family are poor readers, but for the opposite reason.
Of course they hate it! They’re friends and family! They might like a version of you that is entirely separate from the writer part. Then your mom says she’s worried about you, how could anyone think that way, and can you send her the next thing you write so that she can share it with her therapist, who by the way she highly recommend you speak to if THIS is the kind of stuff that goes through your mind.
Part of this is that it’s unlikely (in my experience) that your family likes the same genres as you do. If your brother likes thrillers and your grandpa likes WWII histories, then don’t share your grimdark fantasy with them.
You make a good point, Richard. There probably is a place for writing group critiques when you’re very much developing. Different perspectives on how to write/where to possibly go next help one to develop basic robust skills; as does critiquing other people’s work
But once you get to a certain level of proficiency it becomes less of a compulsive choice to get feedback early on, or be swayed from one’s convictions. I guess the rejection or acceptance process (I.e. submission) becomes a different type of feedback; although that too can be wrong sometimes - I guess journals tend to get more great pieces than they can publish. But it is worth looking again at a piece when it comes back from a ‘no’, just in case. I sent a short story of about 3400 words out a few months ago, and I was sure it was the tightest, leanest thing I’d ever written. Lo and behold, two days ago when I looked at it, I unexpectedly noticed one word in the first paragraph that could go - and had to revise the word count, ha ha!
This just happened to me. When I received a personalized rejection from someone who said he liked the piece but couldn't use it, I put the story away for a few months, then when I was planning to submit it elsewhere I took it out and found it needed work. We're lucky to have so many magazines that will read everything that is submitted. From now on I've decided to submit to one magazine at a time and wait for the answer.
Multiple submissions for a piece is expected. But don't go nuts, maybe two or three publications at a time. Then wait a month and repeat. It helps to be prolific. If you can get ten or fifteen manuscripts into the mix that's a lot of submitting. Stay with free venues, charging for submissions is a racket. Also avoid "prestige" publications like New England Review and Alaska Quarterly. These only publish industry insiders, particularly academics.
Yeh, I don’t know. Twenty years ago when my writing skills weren’t so consistent across the manuscript, I inflicted an early version of my novel on my sister and at least one friend. Their silence, general lethargy, and failure to get hurriedly back was pretty direct feedback! :) But, yes, I agree with your general point, Toby.
But they may not have liked it because as someone pointed out they're not into the genre you're writing in. My brother loves historical frescos and I write character driven stories... People don't necessarily reject bad writing if they're pulled along by the plot or interested in that period or milieu. And they might not haved appreciated your novel had it been better.
Yeah, no, sadly, I think it wasn’t as consistent as it good be. And the people who I’d asked were probably people who are almost too circumspect with their time, compared to what a helpful critique might need to overhaul it. I think we have to accept that when some people agree to read, they’re signing up for a fairly near-perfect experience.
I seldom show my husband my work. He's an academic and not on a creative writing wavelength. He's a terrific proofreader, though. So there's that... :)
This here's a writing group. I lurk, enjoy the choose-your-own adventure structure. Read fondly but rarely engage. Enjoy humans creating and sharing intuition, boundaries. It's wholesome, challenging, safe. I feel no need to judge or appraise anything here, it's enough just let the words and ideas float in and out, in and out, noticing what I will, no trouble at all. It's like a third place, for me. A cafe with people turning up as they are, some buttoned up others groggy in pyjamas. I'm on a stool, smiling along, chatting if I like. But I can still hear my own thoughts.
So, I appreciate the question about critiquing/sharing today, as it's been on my mind. Unwittingly I approach the end of 14 weeks of fortnightly workshopping with seven strangers and a retired creative writing professor/author, all of us unmatched in experience or genre. As I am gung-ho, and have no idea what I'm doing, I didn't care to know what workshopping was beforehand, or the cultures and archetypes around it. This unprecedented (unrepeatable) experience has given me clarity and much personal insight.
I know that critiquing the work of others has made me more precise, generous and ruthless in revising my own work, yet have learned that I also have limited bandwidth for critiquing. I felt that what I had to say could be nothing or limitless, in a way that was sometimes stressful (and probably not helpful to the writer), but I was outstandingly attentive and thus often exhausted, or a little rejected if my reviewers didn't come through. I learned that rejection's a vibe I need to a. get a better handle on; and b. expose myself to in a consensual, prepared way. I owe this to myself. I found that in the workshop process others were hairsplitting and obsessing about technical things in a way that occluded my ear, evaded my understanding, and often came across as pedantic, insecure. Something to offer instead of feelings, engagement with the writer's mind.
Mostly I learned to keep listening, to myself, and that external voices too soon can mess with my hearing. I don't care to end up lowest-common-denominatoring a story's essence before it's ready. I'm grateful to know how to recognise that, in my body. Nothing's ready to share if the characters are still hassling me, if I'm still pushing, having fun.
And now, a writer who is a national critical darling (who I met at the real cafe) has sent me a spectacular essay. Shyly, wanting to sharing her best work with me. I have read two of her books, they won awards. We are new friends, we like eachother's brains. I'm too bashful to send her something of mine in return, for now, although she's asked. I will, but how? I already think she's a genius, it's distracting. Also inspiring. I welcome your advice, will scour this week's comments for your answers to George's apposite questions.
Ask yourself what you have to lose by sharing your work with someone you admire. Then ask again. Ask four times, total. And pay attention to your answers.
Polly, I understand your shyness to give feedback to an admired person, but … I see it as an offer to build a connection, be it professional or friendship. Both great and can work out or not, worth a try. If your feedback is just „brilliant, because…“, that‘s what it is. If she does not like your story, hurts but she is just a human too :-)
Hi Polly, interesting what you’ve shared here. I’m not clear: did she share her essay for critique from you, or is it a finished piece? What is she expecting of what you send her? Critique or finished piece? I would say, generally, that accomplished critiques are hard to come by, and excellence tends to inspire excellence, or at least put one on the ascendancy - so I would say get the feedback if you can and it’s an option.
Of course, being a good writer is no guarantee you are a good workshop teacher, or sensitive at critique: these are two distinct skillsets, and I’ve definitely been to a workshop of good writers whose talent at teaching is not equal to their craft. Not often, but it happens.
It may be a case of putting something out there, and testing the waters, if she’s up for it. Just make sure to protect yourself and your work. No level of success is worth a less than careful sensitivity about your work. On the whole, though, my optimistic side says it will probably be fine!
She sent me a beautiful, finished and published piece, Merrie, and was expecting to connect and deepen our conversation, I expect. Shorthand, perhaps? Skipping a few decades worth of conversations, sharing the highlights reel, shortcuts to connection. It's an intimate and lovely way to develop a friendship, I can see and hear that in other creative friendships I see around me. Thanks for the excellence begets thought x
How lovely. It sounds like a wonderful opportunity for genuine connection. I guess, over time it may develop into informal feedback, or however things want to go between you. Who knows? In the other hand, you might just as well discover a mutual interest in eighties music or Italian food, and things not to do with writing at all!
1) For two or three years a friend and I took turns showing each other a chapter or something we’d written and met monthly at a coffee shop to discuss. He was more accomplished than I was, and I was a beginner, so I learned a lot from him. I revised accordingly, but I began to get annoyed when I realized he never took any of my suggestions seriously, and never revised. He told me revising was my process but not his. I moved to another city, and we eventually stopped meeting on Facetime. I had also taken many writing classes and joined writing groups in which we discussed our writing, and I joined a writing group in the city I’d moved to, but I began to feel the feedback I’d gotten was hindering my creative process and I, too, felt as Mr. Saunders does, that I need to work in solitude and to understand my own process and development as a writer.
2) I have a limited attention span for poorly written prose and, thankfully, more recently I haven’t been asked to read a manuscript. However, when my sixteen-year-old granddaughter self-published her book, before fully editing it, I read it avidly. I know how to read a rough draft (which it was, though she said she had revised it five times), and because she wrote a very compelling narrative, mistakes, and all, I thought it held great promise. She didn’t ask for feedback, so I didn’t offer her any, except to tell her to clean up the text and submit it with her college application, which she declined to do—she’s writing another one that she plans to submit. But I'll add her unedited book is like a scratch I want to itch, and sometimes yearn to just fix the small grammar and punctuation mistakes.
3) I no longer ask anyone to read for me. I now ache for my friend who patiently read my early drafts, when I was a beginner, but when he read my final manuscript, his praise seemed honest, so apparently, I’d learned something by revising. He did give me one critique which I chewed over for a long time (I didn't want to accept it), and then revised the entire manuscript with his critique in mind. And while I was doing so, I sometimes imagined him looking over my shoulder as I revised.
Wow, this is a very honest and moving response, Joan - the turbulence of feelings towards a trusted reader. The self-awareness of seeing, and perhaps resenting, the apparent imbalance of power, and then missing them later, after reflecting on the positive impact it eventually had on your work. Yes, there are lots of hard to deal with feelings with other writer-critiquers, that we could get into here, but most of us probably aren’t brave enough to, such as purposeful minimising and subtle passive-aggressive invalidations caused by unhealthy rivalry or envy. I once sent some poems to an old friend who happened to be a writer, who I hadn’t been in touch with for many years. I think she was so shocked by how much my writing had developed that she could not bring herself to give feedback. She would just pretend she hadn’t had time to read it yet, and so I eventually never brought it up again, to see if she would spontaneously. (I should mention that one of the poems was longlisted for an international competition, so this wasn’t a case of self-delusion, as with my early novel ms mentioned above, ha ha!)
I did continue with the friendship, since she was a childhood friend, but I think underlying issues like that do tend to rear their heads in other ways, as time goes on; and there are moments where the journey together has felt more like a limp than a walk.
Geez, anyone got a couch? I feel like I should be lying down for this… :)
First, congratulations on the recognition that goes with having written a longlisted poem. And second, I like what you said about the emotional turbulence and exposure we experience as part of the writing life. But as I implied in my comment, I have become extremely protective of that creative impulse that expresses herself in words, be it Imagination, Subconscious, Inner-most Being. I tell myself over and over what Mr. Saunders says, that every time we revise, we put more of ourselves (our soul) into the text and that keeps me going.
Yes. I should have clarified that. He is now deceased, and I miss him. Just knowing he was there, and I could email him now and then was comforting. So, when I said I imagined he was looking over my shoulder, nodding his approval, he was there only as I remembered him.
I love this. I can’t imagine asking someone to read an entire novel once, let alone three times! A few chapters maybe, but not the whole thing. I actually love reading for edits, style, what-works, what did I love… so I’m much more willing to read than to ask to be read. But I am mindful of what Neil Gaiman is alleged to have said, to the effect of: “If someone tells you about something that’s gone wrong in a story, they’re usually right. If they tell you how to fix it, they’re nearly always wrong.” I used to get paid for line-edits in medical manuscripts, but that’s a whole ‘nother thing!
This is where I think a consistent critique group becomes invaluable. You take the work as far as you can alone. Then you take it to the group. They help. Over time, you know the sorts of things they focus on—that is, you know when you’ve taken it as far as you can with them. Going back with changes won’t help because of their particular critique focus. You go back to revising on your own.
I find some writers very good beta readers if they are familiar with the genre. Probably because they read a lot. On the other hand, my husband, who has a doctorate in psychology, is always saying, add the story of why the character did that. He’s the worst. If I followed his advice, the novel would be 200K of backstory.
My fellow kidlit writers are awesome. We each bring different strengths to our critique groups, and I've gained as much from working with their manuscripts as I have from them commenting on mine. Most of my critique partners are published--but not all. And I have been truly amazed by how a simple question or off-handed suggestion can open up an entire new POV about a story. Don't judge a book critiquer by its cover... LOL
One thing I've learned, is that I should not tell anyone what my story is "about". At all. Like you said, George, it just freezes up. I couldn't figure out why this kept happening to me. I'd let someone read an early draft, or just tell a person what it was about...and then the story just dried up. If I tell someone else about the story before I've actually written it, my brain things I've already done the work. And it just stops creating.
I definitely feel that tug for some immediate feedback. When I write essays, I’m pretty confident and the feedback I want is for the finished piece. I can read my essay and hear the clang when something doesn’t work. And feel the rush when it does.
In a form in which I’m less confident (fiction), I am much more apt to want in-process feedback. My go-to is my brother. He obviously knows me and my voice and he’s also a writer. But I would, at most, ask for two reads. And I always allow for plenty of time and no pressure to rush. I have two close friends I also trust in this way.
I have encountered the mistake of in-process feedback as well. One story got so away from me, I had to wait for a while and start again with the original first draft. I had sent it to a good friend who’s writing I admired. But in the end, his feedback was more his voice than mine.
I think, with regard to the question-asker, that if they are reading that many versions (beyond the three they’re willing to do as a friend), then he should be paid or given credit.
I edited a story for a friend that got published. I did it for free. But I can use it on my resume. But I’ve also edited MA and PhD academic theses and I definitely charged for that. One was for a friend, but it didn’t occur to him to not pay me. That was probably my favorite editing project. His research was so thorough with cool original sources. But the writing was all over the place. I put in so many hours on that one. But it won two awards and was nominated for a third.
Anyway, as far as politeness in asking or responding to an ask, I think it depends. In responding to an ask, you just have to set a boundary that works for you, which I think is fair. In asking, just be thoughtful of their time and recognize that they are doing you a favor. And be gracious if they say no.
Oh, I should say, though, as an editor, I do have to tamper my own voice. I want to insert my own cadence. I can resist it and tap into their voice. But, George’s advice about working with it on your own as much as you can is merited.
Two things about the wants and needs of a writer asking for reader feedback:
1. Every writer, every piece, every read is different, so it helps all involved to clearly define those wants and needs and both limit and focus their scope accordingly. A short discussion here saves lots of time and consternation.
2. It also helps the process (and the relationship between writer and reader) if the writer knows (or can figure out) the differences between writing wants and psychological/ emotional wants. Of course, these often overlap and shape each other, but feedback is more effective when the reader knows what the writer is trying to achieve in the writing as opposed to how she wants to feel about the process. Then the feedback can address the writing issues specifically without getting into concepts like "good" or "ready."
3. It now occurs to me that it would behoove me to take my own advice.
Great advice as ever, George. I would just counsel people to be careful using family and friends as beta readers; you could be putting them in a difficult position. What if they hate what you've written - but know you want them to say nice things? Chances are you'll get wishy-washy feedback that's a) useless to you, and b) make you think they don't care. Find 'unattached' and 'risk free' beta readers...
I work in film and sometimes I feel as if I live in a feedback loop. It seems so intrinsic to the process at the script stage, and in editing when the story is rewritten. I have been teaching grad film students for 25 years and there are former students who still want my eyes on a screenplay or rough cut. I don’t mind, if I have the time. I actually learn so much from this. From entering the world of the script or the cut and taking measure of its properties, its dramatic effects. And I have wonderful readers/viewers for my own work. We share so much back and forth that it evens out. But film is collaborative even when the vision for a film is auteur-driven.
I find I’m much more possessive about writing that depends on sentences, where sentences are the workhorse of narrative. (Or the animating force of the lyric) — and I’m possessive of my feedback — this is not to say that I haven’t been helped enormously by a precise note of feedback — but I need to have fully finished my conversation with it before showing it to anyone. And this can sometimes take years.
When I read something for someone, what I try to do is say: here's what I see. If I like the narrative voice, I say so. I won't say when I don't. If I like a narrative voice, I will tell the writer what I see and if my attention needle, thanks, George!, wobbles on the meter, I'll tell them where. I am in a small group and that is about what we do. it is an amazing experience to discuss a work with the group speaking of the characters as if they were alive and had agency. And then the talk of what it "means." Once, one reader said the end of my piece didn't work for her. The others said, oh yes, it does, and here's how. I figured a way to brush up a line to nail it bit for the one reader, she would't be the only one not to have gotten the thread. But the reaction of the other two made me feel very good. Our last meeting, my piece was really not finished and the discussion was not as tight. I knew it was unfinished, but I was frustrated. From that group I got enough to know I had a story. So back to the drawing board. I try to read as deeply as I can. I try to be the reader I'd want when I read others' work.
In a recent interview, Percival Everett said, "The writing doesn't make the meaning, but instead, allows the reader to generate the meaning he or she needs to move forward.... People come to art to learn something about themselves.”
I'm fascinated by this process. In my workshop teaching and in my own writing groups, students and friends make comments, give feedback, and these discussions are samplings of what all the people in the world might make of the draft in front of us. The writer can see it this way: the readers are making meaning using their minds/experiences/philosophies/subjectivities.
George points to how a piece either freezes with praise or wilts with negative reactions, and I have experienced this. However, I find the perspective that I speak of (above) serves as a kind of buoy. The praise or critique is less likely to sink my desire to continue revising a piece after it has been workshopped.
The general guidance that I give when asking someone to read a draft of mine is, "What pops? What holds your attention? Alternatively, what bumps? What throws you out of the story? Where does your attention lag?"
A teacher of mine, Diana Burbano (playwright) used this guidance in a class I took from her at South Coast Rep, and I've used it ever since in my own teaching.
Yes, the freezing or the sinking! I think it’s literally having your head turned, so that you ‘look up from the page’, and begin to regard human reaction as the litmus of validation. I think to sustain a good piece of writing one must look to the page, look to the page, to see what’s emerging there, and be sensitive to the tiny nuances that are nudging you in particular directions, within the gradual acquaintance with the thing itself.. If you get feedback too soon it can drown out your ear, and make your eyesight too muddied to stay in tune with the signals you’re receiving from the piece itself, and it’s natural inclinations. Well, this is what I personally find with my own process.
But once you’re far enough towards the end, the piece’s natural essence of character is formed, and I guess good feedback can hint at other options which are interesting, but more akin to a choice about what bits of clothing you want the thing to wear, or where it can do with a bit of exercise to tone it up, whilst still saying true to that essence.
Merrie, your words here describe the truth of the process so beautifully ~ lyrically. This poem, prose poem, is a gift to me that I'll read again and again. Thank you for the metaphors of clothing, toning, tuning into the signals of the piece, to what is emerging.
Your words are pure magic!
"Look to the page...look up from the page..." while being careful not to let the feedback "drown out your ear and make your eyesight too muddied to stay in tune...with it's natural inclinations."
Thanks, Diane! I’m glad you found something usable in it, that rings for you, or you recognise somehow in your own process. I guess it’s a subconscious mooring mantra for when the process goes awry, or you have to cross the inevitable chasm of seeming impossibility which arises at the beginning of every new piece: ‘Look to the page! Look to the page!’
'Look to the page! Look to the page!"
Thank you, Merrie, for this mooring mantra!
"Where does your attention lag"--yes, this is something we've brought up before in story club. It's really so key!
Good stuff. The Everett quote says it all.
The word "writer" could easily replace "reader" in the Everett quote. In fact, I'm going to use that as a touchstone for my writing over the next few weeks.
1. I don't give anyone a story (or novel) to read until I feel like it's complete. Then, I ask a few people to read--friends who are big readers, who like to talk about books and stories (though not necessarily writers), friends I trust. I say, tell me what you think. I say, I think it's done, but....what do you think? What helps me the most are real notes--"Right here, my attention dropped out." "Right here, I feel like I need to know more." "Right here seems to go too fast." "This part really confused me." etc.
2. I rarely read anyone's manuscript. They have to be a very good friend. I always ask in advance what it is they want from me--what kind of comments. I'm only good with giving notes if the manuscript is already good. If a story isn't very good or needs a lot of work, I'm usually at a loss as to what to say. So that's why i usually say no when someone asks me to read. I don't like to hurt anyone's feelings.
3. How often do I ask someone to read? Hmmm. Not too often, really. But i'm not terribly prolific.
4. I know there wasn't a fourth question, but I'm going to give an answer anyway. I am not at all a fan of writer's groups. I would never show anyone my work in progress. I don't think it's helpful and can actually be harmful. I trust myself to write and revise a story. Then I let it sit. Then I look at it again and see what I think. Usually, there will be another revision at this time. Only when it's "done" do i show it to anyone.
Writers' groups can work, but it very much depends on the group. I've been in some disastrous ones, some meh ones, and one good one. Being in these groups has made me a better, more generous and precise reader.
Totally depends on the group. I know some people love them.
Yeah, no, me too - I definitely don’t give it to people who like to talk about writers, Mary! :)
HA!
right with you on the writers' groups thing. waste of time in my opinion. but seems to work for some people.
Mine are my lifeblood. LOL Different strokes for different folks...
"big readers, who like to talk about books" Yes and whether one judges or is being judged, the most important issue is genre. Fantasy readers are unable to judge upmarket, and vice versa.
yes, good point!
I belong to a writing critique group of about 10 people. We meet once a month and critique 2 short stories or novel chapters. Usually, when someone's work is being critiqued, the writer asks for specific comments about pacing, or the beginning (or ending) or whether there are too many characters, or the general flow of the story (does it keep the reader interested.) Sometimes the writer will ask for suggestions for a title. We used to use a traditional workshop format, but in recent years, we've abandoned this and just talk as a group with the writer listening and taking notes. This tends to work well for all of us. We do critique an already read story that has been revised but that's it. Then the writer is on their own. These are rules that we've set down and everyone agreed to.
I have never asked a friend to read a full manuscript for free out of respect for their limited time. I usually ask the same friend to read my grant applications and I do the same thing for him, so I don’t feel guilty. I have hired a professional editor for my current manuscript. She is a dear friend who happens to be an excellent writer. She offered to do this for free. I refused. Because I know how much work it takes. I won’t give her the script until a first, solid draft is ready. Ideally no typos and spelling mistakes. Again, out of respect for her time. I ask her to review it once, and once only! She gives me detailed line by line edit but also a more general feedback on the script. She is very familiar with my work. When I budgeted for her payment, it was very important for me to make sure the payment was fair! I think to expect anyone to do 3-6 times the edit for you, unpaid, is asking too much! Even once for free is a lot!
So i think boundaries are very important. I set up an editing service on my website recently when I had too many friends asking me for very big edits, for free, just so I could say, “would be happy to. Check out my price list.” This was not to start a new career in editing, but to remind people that writing is what I do and should be compensated for. I am a single mother with 2 teenage kids and a book to complete. Sorry, no time for big asks for free. Hope this helps. (Forgive the typos. Writing this on my phone with no editor…)
This! “Even once for free is a lot!” My first thought when I read the query was that this screenwriter friend is addicted to the feedback: the thrill of approbation and the anguish of criticism. Some people get stuck in the refining process and love the endorphin rush of reading what someone has to say about their writing, to the point they’ve let it impede their progress. You know the feeling, right? When you see the red pen marks or the little comment boxes and your heart races…
Yes! Feels unhealthy…
Agreed. Ultimately it’s perfectionism. Perfectionism is a function of shame. (Brene Brown is eloquent on the subject-wanting to control everything to prove yourself worthy, etc.) And wow do we writers face that demon! Once I recognized the tendency in myself to want endless feedback I realized I was afraid of being judged, but of course, still wanted to hear people tell me how worthy I am to be a real writer. What a mind-f@&$. My bigger problem now is getting my butt in the chair, and that’s its own avoidant behavior, but I get better every day.
Love this, for so many reasons.
Imola I totally agree! What great advice about putting “editing services” on your website. I think it’s important to ask what specific questions the writer has. Just being able to formulate the questions shows me what I am uncertain about.
Very pertinent topic, today - I am right in the middle of such a situation!
I don’t tend to give people short stories to read too often. However, I just fished a novelette/novella of around 14,000 words, and thought I would test if my self-appraisal of it, in other words my judgement, was as accurate as I think. So I made an exception and have given it to two readers: one a fellow writing friend who I used to be in a regular critique group with; and another, another articulate friend who runs a reading group. I thought it might be interesting to see from the perspective of a ‘casual’ reader, and a talented writer.
In both cases I’m looking to see their natural reading rhythm / whether it’s a story which compels only one or two sittings, or if it’s more broken up than that - and how did that affect their continuity, since it’s a story with time shifts. also
-what held their attention
-anything that lost it
-anywhere they were confused or unclear.
/anything else which occurs to them.
Before they answer any of these specific queries I’ve asked them to read it through first and just ‘notice what they notice’ - so their reactions are hopefully fairly organic in the first instance. This is a fairly rudimentary/skeletal form of how I myself assess a manuscript in progress as a paid service. But they aren’t getting paid and I will only ask them to read once
I’m afraid I can’t report on its success, since I only sent them out a few days ago! But the story feels definitely fairly polished to me ie. close to submission-ready after quite a few drafts. Fingers crossed!
I should mention it’s my first novelette - just in case you think I drop long short stories effortlessly! :)
Other than proofing, which is extremely generous, friends and family are very poor beta readers. Of course they like it. They're friends and family : )
I agree. My mom likes everything I write, and will not find a single flaw. My brother at least will find typos and other small errors like that, he'll usually send me back three or four pages... and he's a gun nut, so he can correct anything I write wrong when the piece involves firearms.
Hahahaha! That’s a funny story right there.
Pretty much... I tend to have guns in my stories, even though I hate things, have only ever shot a 22 rifle once when I was in Boy Scouts. My brother on the other hand, owns 20 or more guns, and claims every one of them has a purpose, (like what? Is this one for trimming high tree branches, that one is for when the Red Coats attack..) I think guns are an addiction for some people.
Yes, and I wonder if fear, intense fear (even if not acknowledged) is in the mix. Perhaps it makes him feel safe.
Fear? Well that's a little rough. As a writer for outdoor magazines, a great market btw, there's a lot of guns. I know a lot of hunters. They're a pretty mild bunch.
I meant gun collection, having dozens of guns. 20 guns is a lot.
it sure is
I agree that friends and family are poor readers, but for the opposite reason.
Of course they hate it! They’re friends and family! They might like a version of you that is entirely separate from the writer part. Then your mom says she’s worried about you, how could anyone think that way, and can you send her the next thing you write so that she can share it with her therapist, who by the way she highly recommend you speak to if THIS is the kind of stuff that goes through your mind.
Part of this is that it’s unlikely (in my experience) that your family likes the same genres as you do. If your brother likes thrillers and your grandpa likes WWII histories, then don’t share your grimdark fantasy with them.
First you become proficient. Then you become a pro. Then you share. They don't like it? Hey, tough luck. I'm publishing : )
You make a good point, Richard. There probably is a place for writing group critiques when you’re very much developing. Different perspectives on how to write/where to possibly go next help one to develop basic robust skills; as does critiquing other people’s work
But once you get to a certain level of proficiency it becomes less of a compulsive choice to get feedback early on, or be swayed from one’s convictions. I guess the rejection or acceptance process (I.e. submission) becomes a different type of feedback; although that too can be wrong sometimes - I guess journals tend to get more great pieces than they can publish. But it is worth looking again at a piece when it comes back from a ‘no’, just in case. I sent a short story of about 3400 words out a few months ago, and I was sure it was the tightest, leanest thing I’d ever written. Lo and behold, two days ago when I looked at it, I unexpectedly noticed one word in the first paragraph that could go - and had to revise the word count, ha ha!
This just happened to me. When I received a personalized rejection from someone who said he liked the piece but couldn't use it, I put the story away for a few months, then when I was planning to submit it elsewhere I took it out and found it needed work. We're lucky to have so many magazines that will read everything that is submitted. From now on I've decided to submit to one magazine at a time and wait for the answer.
Multiple submissions for a piece is expected. But don't go nuts, maybe two or three publications at a time. Then wait a month and repeat. It helps to be prolific. If you can get ten or fifteen manuscripts into the mix that's a lot of submitting. Stay with free venues, charging for submissions is a racket. Also avoid "prestige" publications like New England Review and Alaska Quarterly. These only publish industry insiders, particularly academics.
Yeh, I don’t know. Twenty years ago when my writing skills weren’t so consistent across the manuscript, I inflicted an early version of my novel on my sister and at least one friend. Their silence, general lethargy, and failure to get hurriedly back was pretty direct feedback! :) But, yes, I agree with your general point, Toby.
But they may not have liked it because as someone pointed out they're not into the genre you're writing in. My brother loves historical frescos and I write character driven stories... People don't necessarily reject bad writing if they're pulled along by the plot or interested in that period or milieu. And they might not haved appreciated your novel had it been better.
Yeah, no, sadly, I think it wasn’t as consistent as it good be. And the people who I’d asked were probably people who are almost too circumspect with their time, compared to what a helpful critique might need to overhaul it. I think we have to accept that when some people agree to read, they’re signing up for a fairly near-perfect experience.
Richard, even :)
Exactly. It's the good news (if you want your ego stroked) and the bad news (if you're really looking for feedback.)
Although on thinking again a spouse might be a good reader. If they read a lot, and if they're like mine. She doesn't hold back : )
I seldom show my husband my work. He's an academic and not on a creative writing wavelength. He's a terrific proofreader, though. So there's that... :)
This here's a writing group. I lurk, enjoy the choose-your-own adventure structure. Read fondly but rarely engage. Enjoy humans creating and sharing intuition, boundaries. It's wholesome, challenging, safe. I feel no need to judge or appraise anything here, it's enough just let the words and ideas float in and out, in and out, noticing what I will, no trouble at all. It's like a third place, for me. A cafe with people turning up as they are, some buttoned up others groggy in pyjamas. I'm on a stool, smiling along, chatting if I like. But I can still hear my own thoughts.
So, I appreciate the question about critiquing/sharing today, as it's been on my mind. Unwittingly I approach the end of 14 weeks of fortnightly workshopping with seven strangers and a retired creative writing professor/author, all of us unmatched in experience or genre. As I am gung-ho, and have no idea what I'm doing, I didn't care to know what workshopping was beforehand, or the cultures and archetypes around it. This unprecedented (unrepeatable) experience has given me clarity and much personal insight.
I know that critiquing the work of others has made me more precise, generous and ruthless in revising my own work, yet have learned that I also have limited bandwidth for critiquing. I felt that what I had to say could be nothing or limitless, in a way that was sometimes stressful (and probably not helpful to the writer), but I was outstandingly attentive and thus often exhausted, or a little rejected if my reviewers didn't come through. I learned that rejection's a vibe I need to a. get a better handle on; and b. expose myself to in a consensual, prepared way. I owe this to myself. I found that in the workshop process others were hairsplitting and obsessing about technical things in a way that occluded my ear, evaded my understanding, and often came across as pedantic, insecure. Something to offer instead of feelings, engagement with the writer's mind.
Mostly I learned to keep listening, to myself, and that external voices too soon can mess with my hearing. I don't care to end up lowest-common-denominatoring a story's essence before it's ready. I'm grateful to know how to recognise that, in my body. Nothing's ready to share if the characters are still hassling me, if I'm still pushing, having fun.
And now, a writer who is a national critical darling (who I met at the real cafe) has sent me a spectacular essay. Shyly, wanting to sharing her best work with me. I have read two of her books, they won awards. We are new friends, we like eachother's brains. I'm too bashful to send her something of mine in return, for now, although she's asked. I will, but how? I already think she's a genius, it's distracting. Also inspiring. I welcome your advice, will scour this week's comments for your answers to George's apposite questions.
Ask yourself what you have to lose by sharing your work with someone you admire. Then ask again. Ask four times, total. And pay attention to your answers.
Polly, I understand your shyness to give feedback to an admired person, but … I see it as an offer to build a connection, be it professional or friendship. Both great and can work out or not, worth a try. If your feedback is just „brilliant, because…“, that‘s what it is. If she does not like your story, hurts but she is just a human too :-)
Hi Polly, interesting what you’ve shared here. I’m not clear: did she share her essay for critique from you, or is it a finished piece? What is she expecting of what you send her? Critique or finished piece? I would say, generally, that accomplished critiques are hard to come by, and excellence tends to inspire excellence, or at least put one on the ascendancy - so I would say get the feedback if you can and it’s an option.
Of course, being a good writer is no guarantee you are a good workshop teacher, or sensitive at critique: these are two distinct skillsets, and I’ve definitely been to a workshop of good writers whose talent at teaching is not equal to their craft. Not often, but it happens.
It may be a case of putting something out there, and testing the waters, if she’s up for it. Just make sure to protect yourself and your work. No level of success is worth a less than careful sensitivity about your work. On the whole, though, my optimistic side says it will probably be fine!
She sent me a beautiful, finished and published piece, Merrie, and was expecting to connect and deepen our conversation, I expect. Shorthand, perhaps? Skipping a few decades worth of conversations, sharing the highlights reel, shortcuts to connection. It's an intimate and lovely way to develop a friendship, I can see and hear that in other creative friendships I see around me. Thanks for the excellence begets thought x
How lovely. It sounds like a wonderful opportunity for genuine connection. I guess, over time it may develop into informal feedback, or however things want to go between you. Who knows? In the other hand, you might just as well discover a mutual interest in eighties music or Italian food, and things not to do with writing at all!
1) For two or three years a friend and I took turns showing each other a chapter or something we’d written and met monthly at a coffee shop to discuss. He was more accomplished than I was, and I was a beginner, so I learned a lot from him. I revised accordingly, but I began to get annoyed when I realized he never took any of my suggestions seriously, and never revised. He told me revising was my process but not his. I moved to another city, and we eventually stopped meeting on Facetime. I had also taken many writing classes and joined writing groups in which we discussed our writing, and I joined a writing group in the city I’d moved to, but I began to feel the feedback I’d gotten was hindering my creative process and I, too, felt as Mr. Saunders does, that I need to work in solitude and to understand my own process and development as a writer.
2) I have a limited attention span for poorly written prose and, thankfully, more recently I haven’t been asked to read a manuscript. However, when my sixteen-year-old granddaughter self-published her book, before fully editing it, I read it avidly. I know how to read a rough draft (which it was, though she said she had revised it five times), and because she wrote a very compelling narrative, mistakes, and all, I thought it held great promise. She didn’t ask for feedback, so I didn’t offer her any, except to tell her to clean up the text and submit it with her college application, which she declined to do—she’s writing another one that she plans to submit. But I'll add her unedited book is like a scratch I want to itch, and sometimes yearn to just fix the small grammar and punctuation mistakes.
3) I no longer ask anyone to read for me. I now ache for my friend who patiently read my early drafts, when I was a beginner, but when he read my final manuscript, his praise seemed honest, so apparently, I’d learned something by revising. He did give me one critique which I chewed over for a long time (I didn't want to accept it), and then revised the entire manuscript with his critique in mind. And while I was doing so, I sometimes imagined him looking over my shoulder as I revised.
Wow, this is a very honest and moving response, Joan - the turbulence of feelings towards a trusted reader. The self-awareness of seeing, and perhaps resenting, the apparent imbalance of power, and then missing them later, after reflecting on the positive impact it eventually had on your work. Yes, there are lots of hard to deal with feelings with other writer-critiquers, that we could get into here, but most of us probably aren’t brave enough to, such as purposeful minimising and subtle passive-aggressive invalidations caused by unhealthy rivalry or envy. I once sent some poems to an old friend who happened to be a writer, who I hadn’t been in touch with for many years. I think she was so shocked by how much my writing had developed that she could not bring herself to give feedback. She would just pretend she hadn’t had time to read it yet, and so I eventually never brought it up again, to see if she would spontaneously. (I should mention that one of the poems was longlisted for an international competition, so this wasn’t a case of self-delusion, as with my early novel ms mentioned above, ha ha!)
I did continue with the friendship, since she was a childhood friend, but I think underlying issues like that do tend to rear their heads in other ways, as time goes on; and there are moments where the journey together has felt more like a limp than a walk.
Geez, anyone got a couch? I feel like I should be lying down for this… :)
First, congratulations on the recognition that goes with having written a longlisted poem. And second, I like what you said about the emotional turbulence and exposure we experience as part of the writing life. But as I implied in my comment, I have become extremely protective of that creative impulse that expresses herself in words, be it Imagination, Subconscious, Inner-most Being. I tell myself over and over what Mr. Saunders says, that every time we revise, we put more of ourselves (our soul) into the text and that keeps me going.
Is the friend in 3 the same person as who you described in 1?
Yes. I should have clarified that. He is now deceased, and I miss him. Just knowing he was there, and I could email him now and then was comforting. So, when I said I imagined he was looking over my shoulder, nodding his approval, he was there only as I remembered him.
I love this. I can’t imagine asking someone to read an entire novel once, let alone three times! A few chapters maybe, but not the whole thing. I actually love reading for edits, style, what-works, what did I love… so I’m much more willing to read than to ask to be read. But I am mindful of what Neil Gaiman is alleged to have said, to the effect of: “If someone tells you about something that’s gone wrong in a story, they’re usually right. If they tell you how to fix it, they’re nearly always wrong.” I used to get paid for line-edits in medical manuscripts, but that’s a whole ‘nother thing!
This is where I think a consistent critique group becomes invaluable. You take the work as far as you can alone. Then you take it to the group. They help. Over time, you know the sorts of things they focus on—that is, you know when you’ve taken it as far as you can with them. Going back with changes won’t help because of their particular critique focus. You go back to revising on your own.
They'll only drag ya down Victoria : ) Actually not kidding, if by "critique group" you mean other writers. Writers make lousy beta readers, IMHO.
I find some writers very good beta readers if they are familiar with the genre. Probably because they read a lot. On the other hand, my husband, who has a doctorate in psychology, is always saying, add the story of why the character did that. He’s the worst. If I followed his advice, the novel would be 200K of backstory.
This is hilarious Victoria and yes, there are exceptions. It's my experience everyone runs the first draft by a spouse. You pretty much have to : )
My fellow kidlit writers are awesome. We each bring different strengths to our critique groups, and I've gained as much from working with their manuscripts as I have from them commenting on mine. Most of my critique partners are published--but not all. And I have been truly amazed by how a simple question or off-handed suggestion can open up an entire new POV about a story. Don't judge a book critiquer by its cover... LOL
One thing I've learned, is that I should not tell anyone what my story is "about". At all. Like you said, George, it just freezes up. I couldn't figure out why this kept happening to me. I'd let someone read an early draft, or just tell a person what it was about...and then the story just dried up. If I tell someone else about the story before I've actually written it, my brain things I've already done the work. And it just stops creating.
I definitely feel that tug for some immediate feedback. When I write essays, I’m pretty confident and the feedback I want is for the finished piece. I can read my essay and hear the clang when something doesn’t work. And feel the rush when it does.
In a form in which I’m less confident (fiction), I am much more apt to want in-process feedback. My go-to is my brother. He obviously knows me and my voice and he’s also a writer. But I would, at most, ask for two reads. And I always allow for plenty of time and no pressure to rush. I have two close friends I also trust in this way.
I have encountered the mistake of in-process feedback as well. One story got so away from me, I had to wait for a while and start again with the original first draft. I had sent it to a good friend who’s writing I admired. But in the end, his feedback was more his voice than mine.
I think, with regard to the question-asker, that if they are reading that many versions (beyond the three they’re willing to do as a friend), then he should be paid or given credit.
I edited a story for a friend that got published. I did it for free. But I can use it on my resume. But I’ve also edited MA and PhD academic theses and I definitely charged for that. One was for a friend, but it didn’t occur to him to not pay me. That was probably my favorite editing project. His research was so thorough with cool original sources. But the writing was all over the place. I put in so many hours on that one. But it won two awards and was nominated for a third.
Anyway, as far as politeness in asking or responding to an ask, I think it depends. In responding to an ask, you just have to set a boundary that works for you, which I think is fair. In asking, just be thoughtful of their time and recognize that they are doing you a favor. And be gracious if they say no.
Oh, I should say, though, as an editor, I do have to tamper my own voice. I want to insert my own cadence. I can resist it and tap into their voice. But, George’s advice about working with it on your own as much as you can is merited.
Two things about the wants and needs of a writer asking for reader feedback:
1. Every writer, every piece, every read is different, so it helps all involved to clearly define those wants and needs and both limit and focus their scope accordingly. A short discussion here saves lots of time and consternation.
2. It also helps the process (and the relationship between writer and reader) if the writer knows (or can figure out) the differences between writing wants and psychological/ emotional wants. Of course, these often overlap and shape each other, but feedback is more effective when the reader knows what the writer is trying to achieve in the writing as opposed to how she wants to feel about the process. Then the feedback can address the writing issues specifically without getting into concepts like "good" or "ready."
3. It now occurs to me that it would behoove me to take my own advice.
Great advice as ever, George. I would just counsel people to be careful using family and friends as beta readers; you could be putting them in a difficult position. What if they hate what you've written - but know you want them to say nice things? Chances are you'll get wishy-washy feedback that's a) useless to you, and b) make you think they don't care. Find 'unattached' and 'risk free' beta readers...
I work in film and sometimes I feel as if I live in a feedback loop. It seems so intrinsic to the process at the script stage, and in editing when the story is rewritten. I have been teaching grad film students for 25 years and there are former students who still want my eyes on a screenplay or rough cut. I don’t mind, if I have the time. I actually learn so much from this. From entering the world of the script or the cut and taking measure of its properties, its dramatic effects. And I have wonderful readers/viewers for my own work. We share so much back and forth that it evens out. But film is collaborative even when the vision for a film is auteur-driven.
I find I’m much more possessive about writing that depends on sentences, where sentences are the workhorse of narrative. (Or the animating force of the lyric) — and I’m possessive of my feedback — this is not to say that I haven’t been helped enormously by a precise note of feedback — but I need to have fully finished my conversation with it before showing it to anyone. And this can sometimes take years.
When I read something for someone, what I try to do is say: here's what I see. If I like the narrative voice, I say so. I won't say when I don't. If I like a narrative voice, I will tell the writer what I see and if my attention needle, thanks, George!, wobbles on the meter, I'll tell them where. I am in a small group and that is about what we do. it is an amazing experience to discuss a work with the group speaking of the characters as if they were alive and had agency. And then the talk of what it "means." Once, one reader said the end of my piece didn't work for her. The others said, oh yes, it does, and here's how. I figured a way to brush up a line to nail it bit for the one reader, she would't be the only one not to have gotten the thread. But the reaction of the other two made me feel very good. Our last meeting, my piece was really not finished and the discussion was not as tight. I knew it was unfinished, but I was frustrated. From that group I got enough to know I had a story. So back to the drawing board. I try to read as deeply as I can. I try to be the reader I'd want when I read others' work.