Critique Partners and the Art of Revising

This month I’ve been revising my NaNo project. For those of you that don’t know, #NaNoWriMo is National Novel Writing Month. It's in the month of November and carries the lofty goal of 50,000 words. I didn’t “win” but I did get close.  

I know they say close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. But what do “they” know, anyway? Let's see *them* write forty-eight thousand words in a month. <scoffs>

Slapping 50K words in a month means every single word will have to be revised. Revision is key. If I tried to fire off my NaNo Draft (which is probably even lower caliber than a First Draft) to agents or editors I could expect silence. If I sent it to my Critique Partner, I might expect a scathing reply along the lines of; “Did you send me a (swear word) First Draft?!”

I always try to remember that a first draft is just that—a first attempt. 

While writing is rewriting, it can't be done alone. A good critique partner is worth their weight in gold.  I interviewed Lane Buckman, the Lane of Robyn Lane Books, to talk about writing and critiquing.

1. How long have you been writing with a purpose?

I have been writing with a purpose since elementary school.  I got an early start with a specialized program to develop young writers through Old Dominion University, in Norfolk, Virginia.  I took my first write-for-pay job doing campaign scripting when I was fourteen, and have been working freelance since then.  I do a lot of technical writing for hire, a lot of op-ed, and dabble in marketing materials.  Now, as far as writing novels goes, I got serious about that in the early 2000s.  I sold my first novel in 2010, then followed up in different genres in 2013, 2014, and 2015.  Now, I focus on my work as a publisher, so I spend most of my time offering editorial notes to the fantastic writers we have found.

2. What’s the best thing a critique partner can tell you?

The best thing a critique partner can tell me is, "This doesn't work."  If they can back that up with why it doesn't work, that's a lot more helpful, but if something isn't reading well, I need to know--no matter how painful.  The most painful feedback I've ever gotten was, "Oh, Lane.  Just...no.  No."

3. What’s the worst thing a critique partner can tell you?

The worst thing a critique partner can tell me is, "This is perfect!"  Because it never is. 

4. What’s one piece of advice you’d like to offer new writers/new critiquers?

Don't ask your friends to read you to critique is my advice to new writers.  Your friends love you, and they won't tell you the problems with your work.  Find a reader you respect, and ask them to read as though they were going to review it to recommend to their most esteemed colleague.

My advice to those new to critique is pretty simple.   My critique motto is:  Imagine it's your work.  I offer the feedback in a way I would want to receive it.  That is, honestly and respectfully.  I don't pull punches, but I am kind.  Writing is hard work, and whether I'm reading James Joyce, or E.L. James, I keep that in mind, and I offer my feedback with respect to the effort, and the human being who did the writing.  We're all in the same boat, hoping for the same success, and we can all afford to be kind in how we deliver our messages.

5.  How many critique groups have you been in? What will keep you engaged? And what will have you running for the door?

I am active in three groups.  Each group was carefully cultivated (either by me, or another group member) to include published authors, copy editors, and people who love to read within the particular genre.  My favorites are the people who love the genre because they will tell you right off the bat if you are missing the mark.  Feedback keeps me engaged.  I run for the door when someone asks me to add in some erotica because I can't write that without laughing.

6. What can a critique group/partner offer that a writer can’t accomplish on her/his own?

  

Critique groups and partners offer honest, objective opinions in a safe environment.  I can't speak for anyone else, but my greatest fear in publishing is that my manuscript is the one the editorial team cracks up over because it is so bad.  I would rather run my work through thirty flesh-stripping critiques, than have one publisher laugh at me.  A friend recently posted that she'd just joined a critique group, and was thoroughly embarrassed by the feedback she'd received, but she was so glad she hadn't sent the book out to a publisher, or agent that way.  Critique groups help you hone your work, and help make you better.  I really can't say enough about how important it is to have someone else read your work.

KM Weiland has a great list of questions for Critique Partners  

Used with permission from Debbie Ridpath Ohi at Inkygirl.com

What do you like to ask for in CPs?

[DON'T] Write What You Know

by Charlotte Levine Gruber

Ten years ago I began my writing journey. Crime fiction is my genre of choice, so it was no surprise to me when my emerging story headed down the dark path. 

The Self + The Path by Hartwig HKD

When I approached the soggy middle, I joined a local writers group. The speaker that day was a creative writing professor who said, “Write what you know.”

I thumbed through my pages (yes, a hard copy).

• My protagonist was a single dad with two teenagers. 
• Another POV character was a teenage thug. Also male.
• I had no real clue how they fit together.

I went to the writers group a few more times and learned how to punctuate dialogue, but pretty much didn’t know how to fix my project. I began another story, and this time I followed the professor’s advice and wrote what I know. But of course, what I know isn’t really that interesting. I have an MBA and worked in bankruptcy. But I filled pages and pages of bankruptcy information. 

Good thing I have beta readers and critique partners making snarky comments. Even my sister confessed to skipping those blocks of text.

Now I’ve been writing long enough to question that first visiting professor. He may have been talking about beginning writers, or, gasp, perhaps I misunderstood. 

Because really?

The Boy Who Lived by Beth

Is JK Rowling the boy who lived?

Stephanie Meyers in love with a vampire?

Or EL James… well…let’s not go there.

The Creative Writing Director at Harvard University, Bret Anthony Johnson, argues against writing what you know. He states; 

“For me, it’s the difference between fiction that matters only to those who know the author and fiction that, well, matters.”

Read Johnston’s article—it’s enlightening. 

As a genre fiction junkie, I often feel that literary works put out by Iowa graduates are beautiful and memorable but I still prefer Janet Evanovich or Stephen King.

Even so, I happen to agree with Johnston. Writing what you know is not the same as knowing what you write. Research is key, as is transporting yourself to the page. Or more specifically, transferring your emotions to your character, or learning to see the world through their eyes.

Photo by Dawn Ellner

I shelved that first manuscript. In a rewrite of my second project, CODE OF SILENCE, Hank Phillippi Ryan told me, “It’s not enough to describe this scene. You have to BE Andrea.”

Of course, Hank is right. Seeing the world through your character’s eyes allows your reader to do the same. Engaged readers don’t want to put the book down. 

So write what you know how to feel. 

But the rest? Make it up. And have fun doing it. At a writers' convention Jonathan Mayberry bragged that he got to go to work everyday in his pretend world with his pretend friends. 

And what could be better than that?