We’ve had a lot of encouraging posts so far this Writers Worth Month. How about we look at something you need just as badly?
Tough love.
I’ve never been a person who enjoys giving criticism. I look for it whenever I know it’s constructive and given with the right intention. Still, it’s really tough to give criticism when you’re unsure how it will be received.
This means you, writer.
We’re a trepidatious lot. We doubt ourselves, take courage in kind words, and often seek out positive feedback. What does that get us? Some self-confidence, sure. But if we want to get down to improving things, we need criticism.
Over the years I was part of a number of writing groups, both live and online. The idea is to give editorial feedback — where it works, where it doesn’t, and suggestions on how to improve things.
You learn a lot about people when you offer editorial feedback.
One woman sent a children’s manuscript –50,000 words, which as you may know, is about 48,000 words longer than the average picture book and about 40,000 words longer than a middle reader book or young adult novel.
That wasn’t the worst part, though.
Her story had a wonderful magical element, but she was writing like she was dipping her toe in ice water — “began to” “started out” and words that indicated something was about to happen. But nothing ever really happened.
Four chapters in, I had to stop and tell her what I saw. My advice was simple — remove all the hesitation and get down to it. That in itself would have removed about 5,000 words (I’m not kidding). I told her also that longer would be good if she were writing a tight story (these were pre-Harry Potter days). Most children’s stories at the age group she was targeting (under 10 years) were limited to 2,000 words and even that was a bit wordy. Her publishing options, I added, weren’t plentiful. I suggested she break the book up into separate volumes to appeal to both children who loved series and publishers who loved multiple sales channels.
She thanked me, but she told me how much her children loved it and how much her friends and relatives thought it was a lovely story. End of discussion. Not only did she not offer me any feedback on my manuscript, but she disappeared from my radar. At the time, her tone was one of licking her wounds and being disappointed that I wasn’t shaking pom-poms right next to her well-meaning family.
Then there was the more recent case of a woman who would read her “hilarious” stories that made no one laugh. The suggestions the group gave were always met with “Oh, it doesn’t matter. I’m not thinking of doing anything with it. It’s just for fun.”
Then why be in a group? For kudos. Maybe for camaraderie?
Writers, know this: there are times you’re going to get feedback you don’t like. It may come from clients, or it may come from other writers who know you and care about you. It’s up to you to decide if the advice (for in most cases, that’s what it is) fits you.
How to accept and vet tough love:
Remove emotion. Unless someone just called you a name or talked down to you in public, emotion isn’t necessary. Come at all advice from a detached point of view. Instead of hearing “You clearly didn’t understand how to do this”, try hearing “You didn’t understand” and then look at what it was that was missing. Ignore inflammatory words and cut to the meat of it — where is the problem, not what’s her problem?
Consider the person. Is this someone who gives you unwanted advice regularly? If so, it could be you’re dealing with someone’s issues instead of your own — perhaps that person wants to withhold or belittle you. If it’s someone who doesn’t have a habit of shouting their own praises from rooftops, or someone with whom you have a good relationship, then the advice is probably given from a helpful perspective.
Consider the message. Is it something you can act on right now? If not, is it something that you can apply in the future? Does the message fit with your style and your needs? If someone is telling you to drop all instances of “that” and “very” from your work, are you seeing as many instances as they are? Open your eyes to what they’re saying and allow yourself to hear new things that can improve what you do.
Consider the context. Suppose your taking a course or a workshop and the person giving you criticism is telling you you’re doing it wrong. It happens. But look at the whole picture before you dismiss that criticism. Is the criticism coupled with actionable suggestions? Will those suggestions improve your writing, or will they simply cause you to write like someone else? A lot of editors are prone to changing style — that’s busy work. Instead, they should be helping you improve your skills, not write like they do. If it’s in a course/workshop setting, ask the tough question — is this advice a way to keep me on the hook for yet another course/workshop?
Try it. If someone told me I use the word “that” too much (I do, almost as much as I overuse parentheses), I’d go back over my work and see if removing the word improves things. If I’m told I don’t make strong transitions between paragraphs, I’m going to try concentrating on ways to improve that. If you’re constantly misusing “then/than” or misspelling things, work grammar practice into your day. You can try out suggestions and see if they fit. If not, you’ve learned something about yourself and your writing. It could be the advice is a personal preference or some pet peeve that matters to one person.
Writers, how do you accept tough love?
9 responses to “Writers Worth: Taking Tough Love”
So often people focus on the "criticism" part rather than the "constructive" part, Lori. It can be hard to hear a negative opinion, but it's usually better to see what you can learn from it.
I learned long ago in my corporate career how to deal with criticism. I discovered I was pretty sensitive to criticism. So I would allow myself to deal with the emotions. Then I would step back and view the criticism for the constructive feedback (as Sharon said).
It's okay to feel the emotion. After all, when it comes to writing, it's your baby. Separate the constructive from the sour grapes or some other hang-up of the person delivering the criticism. Keep the constructive. Throw out the sour grapes. 😉
Sharon, exactly the problem. And to be fair, too many people don't know how to give constructive criticism. They say "That's not right" without saying what "that" is or giving suggestions to help fix it.
Cathy, "Throw out the sour grapes." I love it. Good idea to deal with the emotion first. I bitch and moan in private, then it's down to figuring out what to do with the advice.
The best writers groups I've been in have told the truth, absolutely, but with compassion. And that's the kind of criticism I can hear best.
Love 'throw out sour grapes' too and can think of places to use it in addition to writing.
Anne, I agree. The truth doesn't have to hurt if it's told with compassion.
The thing I've realized over the years is criticism only stings when you know the critic is right.
Yesterday I tried to give some constructive advice to someone. I wasn't even criticizing, and she hit the roof. The irony? My suggestion was made because this person was unfairly criticizing others for not "fixing" problems they might not even be aware of. "Well, they have eyes. They can see what the problem is."
The issue is a real one: cars, trucks, even school buses speeding up and down a hill near a playground. The catch? The person she expects to be fully aware of this mostly daytime problem doesn't live on or even have a clear view of the street in question, and is gone all day at work, anyway. So my suggestion was obvious: If you're so concerned, just call our community police officer who's phone number is right on the meeting announcement we received last week. Be proactive, contact him directly. She got mad, made excuses, and launched into a tirade about how useless the police are. Really? Really. At the same time I saw the person she expects to fix it walking towards her house, and said, "She's headed your way, maybe you could step outside, say hello and mention the problem." Again, she refused.
Imagine her reaction had I actually criticized her! You know, like telling her the only reason she refuses to tell the people about the problem is because she'd rather complain about their failure to address it than try to fix it.
Paula, so true. I am friends with someone who's making it her career to bitch and moan. I've offered solutions — as simple as "Then say no." That's when the excuses come out in droves.
They're addicted to complaining. There's one cure for it and they'll never take it — stop complaining and start doing.
What a great post, Lori. Like Cathy, I admit I don't take criticism well in general, but when it's done honestly and objectively, I really do appreciate it because I always want to do a better job, whether with writing or other endeavors. I've been criticized occasionally by someone who's purpose really is to embarrass rather than correct. That isn't helpful, obviously, and tends to make accepting constructive criticism in the future more difficult. Gentle, compassionate criticism is easiest to accept (also obvious) but also might be difficult to hear when coming from someone you respect.
And to Paula's point — yes, it does sting most when the critic is right. If we can take a step back from our pride, we might actually learn something and make some progress.
It's not shameful to be corrected, but it is shameful to refuse to consider that you might be wrong.
Ashley, I love this line: "It's not shameful to be corrected, but it is shameful to refuse to consider that you might be wrong." I'm committing that one to memory. 🙂
Even if criticism is not gentle, I look for the message underneath — "I want you to succeed." Some people give advice like a hammer to the head, but often they mean well. I've had a few instances with well-meaning freelancers who have given it to me straight — really straight. I backed away, licked my wounds, and thought about it. In almost every case, the freelancer was right.
It's that emotional crap that often gets in the way of us seeing it. 🙂