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?

Why You Need Beta Readers (Feat. Women of Cyberpunk)

It’s been a while since I set my high-heeled foot in a college classroom. But from what I remember,  the laws of physics provide boundaries to human capabilities, right? That’s why I was so baffled by Lucy, the film in which Scarlett Johansson's character absorbs a drug that allows her to use a hundred percent of her brain. Without giving too much away, I’ll say this: Lucy has an interesting premise and incredible visual effects, but the science is a hot mess. (If you don’t care about spoilers, read this from Mashable.com).

 

This is one screenplay that needed more beta readers and a thick red pen.

  

Lucy

 

What are beta readers, you ask? Beta readers are volunteer test subjects for your drafts. They find plot holes, suggest changes in the story, point out things you can’t see for yourself, and generally let you know when something doesn’t work (and when it does). They tell the truth about your writing. They see the big picture because, unlike you as the writer, their minds aren’t overflowing with character sketches and plot outlines.

 



Big Hero 6

 

You cannot do this for your own drafts. It doesn’t matter if you’ve read a thousand books in your genre or if you’ve memorized every major style guide in the English language. You’re the writer, NOT THE READER—and these are two very different roles.

 

There was a time when I thought I could edit anything, even my own work. I created my first newsletter at the ripe old age of ten(ish) after a trip to the Fort Worth Japanese Gardens with my grandparents. In high school and college I annoyed my peers by editing the heck out of their articles, and now I do the same thing with novelists as an associate editor for Henery Press.

When I’m in the zone, my eyes catch missing apostrophes, errant quotation marks, word clutter, main character likeability problems, and plot issues like nobody’s business. Words run in my caffeinated blood.

 

Blade Runner



Yep, I’m a trained editor—a professional. But here’s the deal: I STILL CAN’T DO THIS FOR MY OWN WRITING. When it comes to my own stuff, I’m blind. And stubborn. Sometimes, very VERY stubborn. (Should I delete the vague adverb, very? Of course I should. But I’m leaving it there. Twice even. Why? Because I want to. Because I’m the writer, darn it…and you can’t stop me.)

 



Ghost in the Shell



Even after the eighth draft or so, I still hold onto that-which-I-should-delete (backstory, excess character reflection, adverbs) and fail to expound on that-which-I-should-include (worldbuilding, character emotion, descriptions).

 

I do things in my own writing that I tell other writers to avoid, unaware that I’m committing the same literary sin until someone calls me out on it.

 



The Matrix

 

Fortunately, I have some amazing beta readers. These brave souls provide informed ideas to make my imaginary biotech believable, tell me I'm writing like a girl (when it should be a guy's POV), and mediate for characters I'm tempted to kill. (I'm no George R.R. Martin, but I like a high body count. Just sayin'.) A big thank you for my beta readers—I couldn't do it without you!

 

Okay, writers: Go find yourself some beta readers. And bonus points if you decide to watch this short scene from Lucy, which includes—of all things—A RED PEN. No joke.

 

 

Dealing with Critiques and Reviews

I really enjoyed Niki’s and Janet’s last blog posts. To me, critiques and reviews seem to be two sides of the same coin. As writers, we're part of the entertainment industry. Reviews may be professional book reviews, fan reviews, or word-of-mouth. And as Janet said, lots of reviews garner attention and bring more readers.

But critiques prior to publication are what make us better. 

Therefore, as Niki so eloquently told us, a critique partner, should be held in very high regard. 

I love my blog partners. They are critique partners, beta readers and hand holders. I find myself chatting with them on Facebook in the evening while my daughter watches her favorite TV shows. Writing this post, I had an epiphany. We watched two reality TV shows back to back. And guess what? I have two perfect examples fro you on how to deal with critiques and reviews.

Shark Tank is a reality TV show where aspiring entrepreneurs pitch the "sharks" (investors).

Click here to watch

This is a perfect example of what NOT to do. But critique partners, agents, and editors don't get the luxury of opinionated writers going on national television. So take a moment to review Niki's Ten Critique Partner Commandments. Don't argue with recommendations--the sharks talking about the two women pitching? Just think, they could be your editors.

Cut Throat Kitchen was on next. In this show the Chefs are given a cooking challenge, in this case they had to make a French Dip sandwich. The other contestants are offered an opportunity to sabotage each other. The chef you'll see get booted off the show had to make his sandwich on a tandem bike.

Click here to watch

These chefs don’t make excuses with the challenges they faced. They simply say, “Thank you, Chef.”  The chef who judged was also polite. He couldn't bite through the sandwich, but his review? 

"You cut the meat wrong."

My ultimate goal is to get my manuscript published and sell lots of books. Critiques and reviews are just part of the process. I'm sure at some point, I'll get a negative review. Everyone reads differently. But when that happens I'm going to look for this blog and try to remember, "thank you chef."