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?