writing critiques

Wow, how did it get to be 12:30 already? This day just flew by. I think I woke up late to start, like maybe 9 a.m., and then I just had to read the furor over whether or not an author wore her wedding rings in a picture where you can’t even see her hands (some people, I swear, have too much time –and jewelry –on their hands), then I checked some email, and then my good friend and sometime-CP Cheryl called and we had a long conversation about anything and everything in the book industry, including the nature of critiquing and accepting critiques and giving critiques and etc. inspired by the TARA chapter meeting that cheryl put together this weekend where you were separated into groups according to genre and then critiqued another person’s synopsis. It apparently went over fabulously and hearing about it made me miss the TARA chapter so much.

I’ve been thinking about critiquing a lot recently, as I do whenever I send out work to new readers, and I think that the style of what I look for in a critique has changed dramatically over the years. I used to like the kind of in-line commenting and “track changes” style of critiquing, where the CP would be line editing, or commenting on each line, saying “this is funny” and “this doesn’t work” and etc. This is what I’ve come to think of as “contest critiquing” because it’s the kind of critiquing that you give to someone who has entered a contest. You reward them when they amuse, entertain, or move you, and you point out when they confuse, bore, or disturb you. It’s a good critiquing style for writers early in their career, when they need encouragement, need to be shown what it is that’s right when what they are doing is right, and vice versa.

However, in the past year, my style of critiquing has changed, and the style of critiquing I’m looking for has changed as well. Naturally, I can attribute this to working with an editor for the first time. I’m lucky enough to be with a publisher and an editor who value the editing process and devote a lot of energy to working with an author to make the book the best it can be. I’ve also grown more confident in myself as a writer. My CP Marley and I even have a long running joke about how your ability to evaluate books changes as you progress in your career.
Now, though I am still concerned baout part sof my book that don’t work, I’m less interested in every comment being balanced by a smiley face or an “LOL!” And I don’t need you to correct my typos. If you catch ’em, fine, if not, I will on one of my many editing passes.

But more importantly, what I’m really looking for in a critque is not just to fix the bad stuff, but to make the good stuff better. I’ve been thinking a lot about that old critiquing maxim, “Don’t just say everything’s good.” I used to think that meant pointing out the bad stuff, even if it may hurt the artist’s sensitive feelings about her baby. Now I’m thinking it means that you shouldn’t just let good rest on its laurels. You should point it out when there’s good stuff that can be great.

I remember, last year, getting into debates with other writers who talked about their work being as good as such and such book, or good enough to be published, or good enough to compare with such and such. I don’t think good enough is what we’re striving for. This isn’t government work.

Recently, on an Amazon “plog” I read a great post about this by author Holly Black.

It got me thinking about how we, as critiquers, we often look for what is wrong with a piece of fiction. Now, that’s certainly useful. It’s important to know when something’s confusing or dull or structurally unsound. But what I find that I need more and more–and need to learn how to do–is a critique that pushes fiction to that next level, that wow level. Like Cecil‘s admonishment to “look for your inner rage and inner perv,” critiquing a competant story is all about seeing its cracktastic potential and about having standards that are higher than good. And it’s about finding the great parts of a story and pushing the rest of the it toward those parts. It is a whole mental shift for me in terms of thinking about fiction and it is hard.

Holly is much further down along this path than I am. She has heaps of books out and has won lots of awards and is a New York Times bestseller and all kinds of wonderful things. And she still believes that thinking about pushing fiction in this manner is hard. With italics even! And that means I have a long way to go.

But I’m committed to doing that. I’ve had friends tell me that I’m being too hard on myself and expecting too much of myself when it comes to critiquing my story and wanting it to be better, but “good enough” is not going to cut it. I’m only being too hard on myself when it’s preventing me from getting work done. Up until that point, I’m being as hard as I need to be. Because I don’t think “good enough” is going to get you anywhere. “Good enough” is the same as the
other people who are trying for the same reader dollars or publishing slots. “Good enough” means you stagnate as a writer, as an artist. Good enough is never good enough. You want to try for great.
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Speaking of getting work done, I got a lot of work done this weekend, and am really excited about SSG2. I’m fascinated to see what it is like to write a sequel to a book just as people are discovering my world for the first time.