Dealing with Criticism
If you have aspirations of becoming a writer, there’s one thing you will absolutely need to learn to deal with. Criticism. To so many beginning writers, the idea of having someone criticize or critique their work is like asking someone to critique their child; it’s fine so long as they only say nice things. The thing is, if you have dreams of ever being published, you’ll need to learn to deal with constructive criticism in a positive way.
Photo by gumuz, via Flickr
Now, there’s a difference between dealing with constructive criticism and hurtful criticism. “Your first chapter is a bit slow to get going,” is constructive. “Your writing sucks,” is not. Ignore the latter. There will be people out there who want to cut you down because of any number of reasons. A lot of the time, it’s that they’d love to write a book but just don’t have the confidence to do it. Whatever the reason, it has nothing to do with your ability as a writer. But when you get solid feedback that points out specific problems, or even general feelings (“your main character seems a little flat,” or “you use too many adverbs”), pay attention. That’s not to say you need to follow every bit of advice out there, but if three out of four people point something out (or even two out of four), it’s probably something you need to take a look at.
So how do you get over the emotional response we all have when it comes to hearing criticism over something as personal as a novel? The first thing to do is to separate yourself from your work. You are not your novel. Your novel is not you. Repeat that until it sinks in. When someone critiques your novel, they are critiquing your novel, not you.
I joined Authonomy a few months ago (December) but didn’t put any of my work up until January 19th. I was finally encouraged in the forums there to post a first draft I had just completed. That’s right—I posted a first draft with virtually no editing. Now, Authonomy is filled with some really, really talented writers (not everyone there is uber-talented, but there are definitely plenty who are). To say I was apprehensive about putting my very rough, very unpolished first draft up there is an understatement. But I threw together a cover, wrote a blurb in a matter of minutes (not my strong suit even when I have hours to spend) and then waited for my first reviews.
The first few were mostly positive. One pointed out a major flaw in my sentence structure and word usage (something I have since fixed, for the most part). I was told I had strengths in areas I had always thought were weak. And I was told that there were some pretty major flaws in my manuscript. My protagonist was a bit too unlikable. My beginning was very slow (there are differing opinions on this one, with some people thinking it fits with the story and others finding it hard to get into…I think at this point I’m leaning toward it being too slow). It was a little bit too all-over-the-place.
I got one review that almost made me cry (and no, I will not say which one, but feel free to speculate). But I don’t hold it against the person who wrote it. They gave me their honest opinion of my work. I appreciate that. I knew when I posted it wasn’t going to appeal to everyone. But it’s still rough when someone completely rips your work apart. At the same time, this person pointed out some issues I hadn’t really thought about.
Out of around 25 reviews on this particular book, about half of those people liked the book enough to vote for it (“backing” in Authonomy terms). It’s been through three rewrites since going up and will be going through a major restructuring soon on the next draft.
But here’s the thing: the next book I posted, less than one month later (while I was still in the process of writing it, I posted as soon as I got to 10,000 words), has gotten significantly better reviews. Out of 45 or so reviews, only a handful of people haven’t voted for it. And even those who didn’t “back” it have given mostly positive feedback.
Listening to the critiques I received on the first book dramatically improved my writing. It was my fourth novel that I finally posted to Authonomy. The first three may be posted after I’ve rewritten them (I know after receiving feedback on my newer books what problems they’re likely to have). In less than a month, I would say my writing improved by at least 100%, just by listening to constructive criticism from other writers. If I’d kept my books tucked away, never bothering to show them to anyone but friends and family, my writing wouldn’t have improved so dramatically. Sure, maybe after years and years and years of writing, I would have reached the point I’m at now. But instead of spending years, I spent a month.
Learning to take criticism is more helpful than all of the writing books you will ever read. Honest feedback is worth more than virtually anything else in the world. You still have to trust your gut in figuring out which advice to follow and which to discard, but decide that with an open mind. The most important thing to remember is that constructive criticism is not an attack against you. It’s not personal. The person offering the feedback is almost certainly doing so with the intent to help.
One other tip: don’t argue with those who give you feedback. Don’t attack them and tell them they’re wrong (even if you think they are). Thank them for their time. Be grateful someone spent the time to read your work and offer advice.
How do you deal with criticism? Any tricks or tips for making it easier?
In my experience with designing websites, I find any criticism helpful. Even if I don’t hold the ideas of the person giving it in the highest regard, their views are sure to be shared by others seeing my work and the reaction of my audience is more important than my personal artistic preferences.
Commercial artists often do not have the benefit of being freely creative with our work lest we be resigned to becoming starving artists. Our job is to provide guidance for the client to express their message, granted sometimes we have the opportunity to mold the client’s message into something more to our liking, but we shouldn’t be discouraged if what they have in mind isn’t what we had in mind.
The most fluid projects are a two-way street. We create based on a client’s ideas, they give feedback and we, in return, provide feedback to them as to the most effective way to execute their idea.
Brilliant post, Cameron. Thank you for sharing this. Some members of the critique group I joined earlier this year have had an ongoing discussion about critiques, complaining that some critics are too harsh, not supportive enough, not tactful enough.
Aside from the fact that these discussions have been carried out in a private forum, therefore not addressing the problem and just impounding it, I believe this is an elementary part of the process of becoming a writer, especially one with a measure of success.
What you said above, “Learning to take criticism is more helpful than all of the writing books you will ever read,” and “honest feedback is worth more than virtually anything else”… Cameron, I cannot agree more. In the few months I’ve been part of a critique group my writing has improved enormously. As brutal as some critiques I’ve received have been, each and every one of them has been more useful than any amount of praise. Like you, subsequent submissions have received more praise–and therefore I know that that praise is as sincere as the previous criticism was.
To become a writer is, in essence, to render your soul public. And then to ask people to validate it: by critiquing, by publishing it, by marketing it, by buying it, by reading it, by recommending it. If we cannot take criticism of our work, we’re not just in the wrong business. We’re not really interested in becoming the best writer we can be.