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Writing Wednesday: Giving Feedback

March 6th, 2013

Hi, everyone! It’s Writing Wednesday here on the blog again! Today I’m talking about critiques, the importance of giving thoughtful feedback, and how to handle the work of others. As always, these are just my thoughts. I know that this subject can turn into a heated debate. I’m not saying my way is the only way, or the best way, it’s just the one that works for me.

Over the years, people have told me that my feedback is often thoughtful and insightful. In truth, I don’t really know that my feedback truly deserves the praise it gets. I tend to say what I think and everything I say is in the interest of making the piece better. To me, it’s always been a simple goal. Recently, someone (let’s call them Vinny Von Varlow) asked me to give them advice about looking at the work of others. The people around Vinny Von Varlow didn’t seem to value, or react well to, the feedback given to them. So Vinny came to me with the hope of sharpening his skills.

This request made me think about what qualifies as good feedback. I needed to think about what I was doing, consciously or unconsciously, that made people respond well to my advice. I also thought about advice I had received in the past, what advice I liked and didn’t like. What made me listen and what made me dismissive.

The first thing to keep in mind is that the person came to you for advice on their story. One of the most common errors I see in workshops comes from a disconnect between the advice giver and the person receiving advice, the writer. The advice giver should always try to remember that they’re helping the writer mold a story. Think of it like clay. The writer has handed you their clay and said, “I’m trying to make a komodo dragon.” The person giving feedback should then proceed to give advice on how to make the clay look more like a komodo dragon. It’s rarely appreciated when the feedback is, “komodo dragons blow, make a duck.”

To give thoughtful feedback, you need to try and see what the writer is going for and help them accomplish it. Pinch the clay here, reshape it there, and say, “if we added some more clay to this spot, it might look better.” Sometimes it’s hard to do this, I know. We start reading someone’s piece and think… there’s so much potential with this idea. Get rid of these characters, add a few over here, and really, the plot should revolve around this person rather than that person. Do all of that and you know what you have? A completely different story. A different story created by someone other than the writer.

There are exceptions to this rule. One time a friend came to me looking to brain storm new ideas and directions for a character. He wanted to make major sweeping changes to the plot arcs and characters. We had a lot of fun with it. However, when someone doesn’t ask you to do that and you take it upon yourself to demand major changes to plot, lore, and characters, it probably won’t be appreciated. In truth, it’s a very simple idea. When you give advice, make sure you’re helping the writer tell the story they want to tell. If you move away from that and begin telling the writer to write the story you want to tell, of the one you want to see them tell, you’ve missed the mark.

Also, in my experience, overwhelmingly negative feedback doesn’t really help anyone. One of my professors would make a checklist for himself. Essentially, it was a checklist of the most important writing elements that need to be present in every story. So I’m talking about things like a coherent structure, developed characters, and so on. When he came to three major issues in a story, he would stop there and focus on those three issues. He would educate the person on how to improve in those areas. He would then mention that there are some other problems, but note that fixing these three large problems needed to come before anything else. This created two feelings, a sense of priority because these things need to be fixed first, and a sense of hope because the story hasn’t been torn apart at every level.

I’ve heard a few arguments about feedback and I don’t mind saying where I stand. Some people believe that writing workshops should be vicious camps where everyone gets torn to shreds and people are forced to tears. Others have told me that they believe students and writers can benefit just as much from only getting positive feedback. I think they’re both extreme. So here’s what I believe. When someone does something write (and they usually do something right), praise it. Tell them it works, tell them it’s good, tell them it’s the strongest part of their writing. When something needs to be improved, point it out. However, don’t just point at it, explain how it can be done better.

This is crucial, don’t just announce that what they’ve done is wrong, tell them how they can do it better. If I point at a character and say, “that character is flat,” why should the writer listen to me? On the other hand, if I say, “this character seems flat. I would like to see more tension and conflict from the relationship she has with her husband. Her kids are driving her crazy but her husband doesn’t help, does this make her think back on the dynamics of her parents and the house she grew up in?” That’s decent, or at least it’s a start. A writer can grab onto that and think about what will make their character better instead of focusing on the negative aspect of the comment.

Vinny Von Varlow had made some of the larger missteps that I mentioned. I’m happy to say that since making some adjustment to his methods, his partners react better to his feedback. This is great for everyone. He feels useful, the working relationship is mended, and his partners will probably spend more time giving him thoughtful feedback in the future. Like I said, this is what works for me. I’ve seen it work for a few other people as well, but that doesn’t mean it’s the only, or best, way.

Now it’s your turn! What does thoughtful feedback mean to you? When you receive feedback, what makes your listen and what makes you dismissive?

FAN FRIDAY: FRISKY DINGO

February 22nd, 2013

Hi, everyone! It’s Fan Friday again and today I’m talking about a show called Frisky Dingo. If you’ve ever seen Archer and enjoyed it, you would probably like Frisky Dingo because the same people created both shows.

Frisky Dingo is a fifteen minute show that found a home on Adult Swim late at night. The show only lasted two seasons and it’s a shame, because the show could have gone on much longer. Archer has a similar kind of humor, so it’s really not so bad.

Frisky Dingo’s premise is that Awesome X (a hero somewhat comparable to Iron Man with all the money but none of the intelligence) and the Xtacles need to find a new villain. The antagonist, Killface, has created a doomsday device meant to drive the earth into the sun. Killface, however, doesn’t have enough money to complete the project. Awesome X then hatches a plan to get Killface’s signature on a contract allowing Awesome X to make and distribute toys of the two characters.

Honestly, this is just the beginning of their shenanigans, which even leads to Killface attending morning talk shows in order to spread the word about his doomsday device. It plays on a lot of funny things that would come about from having superheroes and villains in the world today. Things that you wouldn’t see in comics. Venture Bros plays with this concept as well with super scientists and their villains. If I’m being honest, the Xtacles are some of the funniest characters in the show, as minions tend to be.

While most of Adult Swim’s fifteen minute shows tend to be episodic, this show has a very tight storyline that continues from one episode to the next. If I had to guess, that’s probably why the show didn’t do so well. If you missed an episode, or didn’t catch the show from the beginning, the storyline would be even weirder and running jokes wouldn’t be as humorous. I caught an episode here and there once in a while and never thought it was funny until I caught it from the beginning.

I believe Adult Swim is airing the show again in its entirety. I know there are also dvds available at many major retailers and it may (though I’m not certain) be available online or through Netflix. If you like Archer, if you’re a fan of Adult Swim, check out this show because you’ll probably enjoy it. At the very least, it’s an amusing show.

Now it’s your turn, what shows do you find to be funny with a unique premise? Have you seen Frisky Dingo and wish it would make a return?

WRITING WEDNESDAY: USING PERSONAL EXPERIENCE

February 20th, 2013

Hi, everyone! It’s Writing Wednesday again and this week I’m writing about using personal experience in your stories. I decided to talk about this because it’s something I struggle with. I’ve tried many times and I haven’t really had much success with it. This is one of the reasons that I tend to stay away from writing non-fiction about my own personal experiences. Actually, it’s part of why I was hesitant to start a blog.

Right now, I’m working on a novel that requires me to dig deep into my own life. It’s fiction but I’m drawing a lot from my life. Certain people, places, and situations are inspired by things I was involved in or witnessed a few years ago. However, the story as a whole is fiction and I’ll label it as such. The title of fiction allows me to take creative license with dialogue and situations.

My difficulty with pulling from personal experience usually comes from being too close to the subject matter. Being too close to the subject matter can go in a lot of directions, so today I think I’ll focus on writing about a relationship or friendship. This is what I’m pulling from right now so I can discuss some of the challenges I’ve faced.

The difficulty with writing about something like a relationship is creating tension that brings in the reader. A common mistake when beginning to write a non-fiction piece (or pulling from personal experience for fiction) is something I’ll call “assumed importance.” The subject is important. Why? Because it happened to you. Well, that’s great but it needs to be important to the reader as well. The significance of this moment, day, month, or year needs to be shared with the reader in a way they can make their own.

I’ve worked through this issue a few different ways. The most useful technique has been to write out a whole scene or argument that I can remember. Then I let it sit for a day. When I come back, I put on my fiction glasses (they have googley eye lenses, a miner’s light, and horned, glittered, brimstone rims) and I alter things. I add things to make a point clearer but mostly I cut things. I cut the uninteresting things people tend to say but keep the stuff that sounds natural, as well as interesting. If this is near the beginning of a story, or introducing a new character, I then write down why it’s important. Not why it was important to me, but why it’s important to the narrative as a whole. Then I try to work that in near the beginning as well as I can.

To be honest, working in personal experience, especially relationship troubles with family, friends, or a significant other, takes a lot of work. It can be harder than just making it up because there’s personal attachment. Everything feels important but, in truth, not everything is important. Why do it? Well, I’ve seen people produce some really potent writing when bringing in personal experience. If you can distance yourself from the subject and treat it like a story, you’ll find that you can do the same thing.

By the way, if you’re in a fiction workshop but secretly write a non-fiction story, brace yourself for a difficult workshop. In non-fiction workshops, I’ve encountered a strong sense of respect among writers and certain subject matter. It’s non-fiction, we’re all aware that the things mentioned usually happened near the people writing about it. If you disguise your non-fiction as fiction, people won’t react the same way in a fiction workshop because they assume you’re making it all up. So, for example, if you’re writing about a relative that passed away, your classmates won’t hesitate to tell you that the character may not be relatable or likable. They’re not doing this to be mean (I hope), they’re doing it because they assume the story fiction. I’ve seen this, and things like this, happen many times over the years. It’s always heartbreaking to see someone break down over a situation like that. So that’s my warning, since I’m already talking about personal experience, fiction, and non-fiction.

Also, I should mention something else near the end here. We all drop in personal experience from our lives. Whether it’s internal struggle over doing the right thing, or a fight with a significant other, these things have a way of coming out. What I’ve written today is just about trying to consciously work in large chunks of personal experience into your writing.

Now it’s your turn, do you work personal experience into your own writing? What challenges have you encountered and what techniques do you use to overcome difficulties?

Writing Wednesday: Establishing Characters

February 13th, 2013

Last month I wrote about reader expectations and how failing to meet such expectations can result in the loss of a reader. Right now, I want to talk about how to establish a character quickly within your own writing. Introducing a character and trying to convey something meaningful about can be a tough balancing act sometimes.

When you describe someone, maybe a friend or character, you probably strive to say the most with as few words as possible. If you’re writing a novel, short story, poem, etc., this is very true.

During residency I was asked about one of my former professors from undergrad. I had mentioned that, while he didn’t know anything about fantasy, he taught a few genre writers and genuinely helped them. Well, this prodded someone to ask what I meant by “he didn’t know anything about fantasy.” A fair question, so I told her…

He’s a great writer, his readings are amazing, and he has a gift when it comes to teaching. However, when I mentioned the word “werewolf,” his only point of reference was Teen Wolf with Michael J. Fox. When I mentioned “elves,” his only point of reference was Keebler.

Not only did I make my point pretty clearly but what I said was absolutely true. When I use that description, I’m usually making the point that someone can help a beginner with their writing, even if they lack knowledge of the genre. It’s always meant as a complimentary statement because he’s an incredible professor and friend.

My example was to establish the person with a specific purpose. When first introducing a character, you want to portray a dominant feature about them. You want the reader to feel like they know something about the character other than just physical traits. Let’s take a look at an example from John Cheever’s story, The Swimmer.

“He was a slender man— he seemed to have the especial slenderness of youth— and while he was far from young he had slid down his banister that morning and given the bronze backside of Aphrodite on the hall table a smack, as he jogged toward the smell of coffee in his dining room.”

So this guy, an older man, slender, slides down a banister and slaps the backside of a statue. To me, it says that while he’s not young, he has a young and potentially immature personality. He’s also jogging in the morning, so he’s probably a morning person. The reader knows that this man, young or not, has a lot of energy. All of this is done while creating an image for the reader to enjoy. We can see the man doing this while simultaneously picking up on what it says about his character.

Sometimes, I like to think of type of introduction as answering two questions. What do you want to convey about the character? How can the character interact with immediate surroundings so deliver that message? This isn’t the only way to introduce a character but this is one useful way to think about it. This method is extremely useful for minor characters because the reader spends less time with them. Therefore, you as an author have less time to establish who they are, what they want, and why the reader should pay attention to them.

So now it’s your turn, what kind of introductions do you like to read or write? What other elements can an introduction employ to be impactful? Can you think of any memorable character introductions in stories you’ve read?

While this isn’t an official citation, I do like to give sources for things I use on the blog.

Cheever, John (2010-07-23). The Stories of John Cheever (Kindle Locations 12280-12281). Random House, Inc.. Kindle Edition.

Story Sunday: The Walking Dead: A Story of Survivors

February 10th, 2013

Hi, everyone! It’s Story Sunday again and this week I’m writing about The Walking Dead. For all of you who have been waiting (myself included), season three continues tonight!

Honestly, the topic I’ve chose for today could have fit into Writing Wednesday but I think it works for Story Sunday as well. I was going to look at a specific arc in the show but I kept coming back to one idea, just how different The Walking Dead is from other zombie stories I’ve seen. So I decided to look at the beginning of the show, the world building that took place, and how a (somewhat) unresolved arc set the tone of the show.

In the first episode, Rick runs into a man named Morgan and his son named Duane. Morgan and Duane have a tragic story at the end of the world. Morgan’s wife turned into a zombie and at night she him and Duane can see her roaming around outside of their house. Morgan wants to kill his wife, he wants to put her out of her misery, but he can’t seem to do it. This kind of storytelling sets a personal tone for the story. Zombies aren’t chasing them through the streets, they’re not breaking through doors, though we find out later that they’re capable of such things. What the audience is shown initially is the emotional trauma of being left behind in this new world. Rick, who is only beginning his journey, doesn’t know the fate of his family. This begins another emotional arc for the main protagonist.

The Walking Dead isn’t just a survival story at all costs. The narrative focuses on the repercussions of actually living as a survivor in a world that’s a husk its former self.

In order to continue his journey, Rick leaves behind Morgan and Duane. This is kind of a strange thing for the show to do, but like I said before, it sets the tone for the show. Rick says that he’ll turn on his radio every morning at dawn. This gives the audience, and Rick, some hope that he’ll meet back up with Morgan and Duane. This arc isn’t really given much closer, it just fades away. Rick doesn’t see Morgan or Duane again. He doesn’t hear from them on the radio and he can only hope that they’ve survived. As Rick (and the audience) learns more about the world, the less likely their safety seems.

The writers established that in this world, you may need to leave people behind. Unlike many stories, leaving someone behind can be a permanent choice. The protagonist and the viewers may not get to see the resolution of every person they encounter along the way. For some things will end well, for others they’ll end terribly, and some people will just disappear without resolution.

Now it’s your turn. What did you think of the first episode? Were you hooked after just one episode? What other moments did you enjoy from the first season?