Credible Critique: tips for writing students and teachers
The world is filled with people who like to snipe and jab at things. Hell, I like to do it too. Makes us feel good, no? But to be taken seriously as a writing resource, to become a trusted confidant of composition and prose, you’ve got to be able to say “this sucks” without saying “this sucks.”
I recently posted an old story on an online writing community, partially for feedback and partially just to make a post. Within five minutes, I had a young whipper-snapper tearing into my story, for everything from choice of words, to scene change. She criticisms were not wholly incorrect, but her method of delivery was inappropriate in the extreme. Had she been in my class, I would have asked her to step outside.
The piece was raw, no doubt. But, and I can’t stress this enough, punctuation and grammar, should be the least of every authors worries. It’s not a mater of caring about your audience. It’s about the story. Your writing is about the words, the actions, the moments, the mythology you weave from your own imagination. Punctuation is a thing for machines and robots, the patterns of linguistics are the author’s playground, not his science test. Grammar is for software and grim-over-the-hill English teachers who still have their first and only rejection slip tucked away in the only manuscript they ever finished, somewhere in their basement, underneath their kid’s forgotten childhood toys.
In college I participated in hundreds (possibly thousands) of writing critiques (not to mention the brutal fine arts critiques). It took me some time, but eventually, I realized it’s more than just saying what you don’t like. That’s called criticism. A critique is an assessment based on intent. Did you intent to make the narrator a jerk? Did you intend to confuse the audience? Did you intend to make your characters likeable? Success of art is based on intent. You know, “Draw me a tree and impress me.”
Unfortunately, I’m also one of those people who don’t believe in the subjectivity of art. We break down the elements of any piece of art and judge them separately. Composition, line quality, balance, color, et cetera. We do the same with film – direction, cinematography, acting, production design and plot. Finally, we (should) do the same with prose. Writing should be judged on plot, characters, pacing, turn of phrase, originality and emotional response. During a critique, pointing out that you don’t like a word choice is almost as pointless as honking your horn at someone who cut you off in traffic: it only makes you feel better. However, pointing out a pacing or plausibility issue is incredibly valid.
When offering critique keep the following in mind:
1. You are probably not the audience.
I worked for as a web designer for years. One boss in particular hated yellow. While I agreed with him on a philosophical level, often yellow was the most appropriate color for any given design (light-hearted, energy, positive, et cetera). But he hated yellow. See where I’m going? Just because I hate reading drama doesn’t mean all drama is bad. Just because I’m not religious doesn’t mean all stories about religion are bad. Just because I couldn’t care less about football doesn’t mean all football movies are bad. To critique properly, you must remove yourself from yourself, and become a neutral audience.
2. When in doubt, go with the basics.
It’s often hard to find something positive or even constructive to say, especially if the piece really stinks. But, you have to, otherwise you shouldn’t be critiquing. So, drop back to the basics. Talk about the character or plot. Ask about their motivations. Ask about the antagonists. Ask about what the intent of the piece was! All authors love to talk about their work. In class, getting a fellow writer to talk about his piece takes the burden from you. Give the ball back and listen. You’ll often find something worth hearing.
3. Be wishy-washy
Seriously, and without a doubt. Use words like “maybe” and “what-if”. Hell, toss in a “how about” and you’re golden. Remember, your purpose isn’t to tell the author what you hated. It’s to get them thinking about their writing in a different way. Consider:
“Your word choice is emotionless and simplistic.”
vs.
“For me, sometimes I felt I was stumbling over the sentences.”
“Sometimes I felt the words weren’t strong enough for the moment.”
Remember, the differences between “I” and “You” are sometimes the only differences between “You suck” and “your story needs work.” In a critique scenario, directness offends. If you find an artist that doesn’t bristle at the brutal judgment of a “common mind,” then you’ve found a true professional.
4. Guide your audience.
I don’t think there’s an author out there who expects 100% positive feedback. But on the other hand, we do tend to think more of our work than perhaps the average joe. So make it easy on your audience. Point out some trouble spots you’ve already identified and ask for guidance there. That allows your critiquing audience a place to focus, it alleviates the shock of newly discovered weaknesses in your story, and it says plainly “I know it’s not perfect, so you don’t need to eviscerate me.”
Remember, the point of a critique isn’t to criticize. Especially in a learning or amateur environment, the point is to explore the story and get everyone thinking about the craft of writing.
