Build A Better Crit Partner: Taking It To The Next Level

Build a better crit partner. That's the aim of this post.

A crit partner or crit group is an indispensable resource. I have been helped a great deal by various crit partners over the years and I'm thankful for their investment of time and energy into my work. I know likewise I have been able to help others by critting their work.

But like automobiles, when we critiquers get some mileage on us, we need a tune-up so we can run better--and everyone benefits.

This post will wrap up thoughts from the Dangers of Taking Advice On Writing we discussed in late February. If you are not familiar with those posts, to sum up, we discussed that sometimes allowing the Ironclad Rules of Writing to be driven into your head like a spike can become a bad thing. Sometimes it can even cause writing paralysis.

I've been thinking about what adherence to the ironclad rules of writing does to a person's ability to critique. We are all taught these same ironclad rules, so naturally, critiquers are generally spotting the same things and giving the same advice.

As critiquers we all want to give our absolute best advice to our writing friends. But sometimes I think we forget to think outside the box. Let's examine a few issues--a few comments critiquers usually make out of habit:

Critique Advice: Use only 1 POV per scene.
How many times have we all heard this one? How many times have we given this same advice? The majority of time, this advice is undoubtedly sound. But there may come a time when to get that extra edge in a scene, someone's work requires stepping outside that particular rule. As a critiquer, do we quote this rule by habit, because it's "what everybody does" or do we cite this rule because it is necessary to that person's book? Being receptive to when a manuscript can "break the rules" can make the difference between cookie cutter writing and a fresh new approach.

Critique Advice: There are too many characters in the opening of this book.
Okay, this one is a pet peeve of mine and one I could spend an entire blog post on. Again, it's advice we've all either dispensed or received countless times. Often, I fear, from habit, and from having the rule drilled into us. The danger of this advice? Assuming readers are dumb. It is one thing if you have a bunch of characters that are not uniquely defined, one from the other, and there is indeed a balancing act to how and when to introduce a series of characters. But I was able to read War & Peace and distinguish the characters, thank you very much, so in the name of giving credit to readers for a little intelligence, please don't quote this rule from habit. As a critiquer, the goal is to clear up any muddy areas, but NOT take away tools in the writer's toolbox for telling their unique story.

Have you noticed the common thread in these two pieces of advice?

Both are geared to make the author's writing more clear. To eradicate confusion for the reader.

And since we need to be able to communicate clearly with our writing, making our work clear is absolutely necessary. But maybe those ironclad rules aren't always the way to achieve that goal of making the writing less confusing.

But there's another element that's MISSING from this common pieces of advice: We often quote the same rules, but seldom offer comments on how to take it to the next level.

What would take this writer's piece from good to fantastic? What would make the difference between a book read once and set aside to a book treasured and re-read multiple times? After all, isn't that our heart's desire? I don't lay awake dreaming about the books I write thinking "It'll be the highest achievement of my life to write a book that adheres to all the rules of writing." YAWN! No, I want to write a story that the reader won't forget!

So why do critiquers spend more time simply making a submission "rule" compliant rather than looking for the extraordinary?
1. Habit
2. Perhaps rushed to get the crit done
3. Sometimes may simply not know what to suggest for how to take it to the next level.

I am guilty of all these things at one time or another. I suspect every critiquer is. Especially if you have problems saying "no" and end up critting for more people than you truly have time to help. To me, it is better to restrict your number of crits and take time to think outside the box than to spread yourself too thin and become a rule spouter.

Don't get me wrong--I don't think anyone does this with the intention of harm. I find writers to be very giving of their time and energy to other writers. And writers do need a foundation of rules to guide them. The key thing is to remember that rules serve a purpose--achieving clarity for the reader, and are not an end in themselves.

Let's help each other. Let's strive to surpass rules and achieve extraordinary writing!

The Dangers of Looking For/Taking Advice On Writing, Part II

Here is one example of how listening to the Ironclad Rules of Writing can be dangerous:

In the last week, I read a blog post where the blog's author summarized the openings of 3 manuscripts they had received. In essence, she was using those openings as examples of books that opened in an action/high stakes moment but did not allow the reader an opportunity to get to know or care about the characters before launching into that action/high stake. In other words, these openings did not work for her.

Like a doctor who is reading abnormal lab results and immediately zeroes in on the diagnosis behind the readings, I knew instantly what had happened to these three writers. The probable cause of a less-than-satisfactory opening was very likely that these writers had been crushed under the weight of the Ironclad Rules of Writing.

I was very grieved by this. Now I must be clear on this. I do not know the writers (they and their writings were anonymous). I do not know their writing journey, if this was their first manuscript or their fifth, published or unpublished. But it seemed crystal clear to me that these writers had been stamped by the rules of writing.

Specifically, they'd been crushed under the hammer of the rule that is taught everywhere that "you must begin your book in the middle of the action." This is taught so often that we've come to take it, pardon the term, as gospel.

That blog post and the assessment of those writers' openings impacted me very deeply. I was grieved for the authors of those works and for myself and other writers they represented. I was reminded of the times and countless hours I have spent arguing and going rounds with myself on the best opening for a book, and most often succumbing to this "start in the middle of the action" rule.

How would I feel, if I wrote and rewrote a manuscript, designing it to the consistent instruction of the industry, only to then be told my opening starts too far in the action and that it doesn't allow us to get to know or care about the characters? It would be annoying to say the least.

These authors represent the masses of writers who probably spend months and years on a hamster wheel because they were steam-rolled by the Ironclad Rules of Writing.

Think of it for a moment--what is the one comment you hear most often from writers who submit their work? Aside from complaints of how long it takes to get a response from the agent, editor, etc., probably the other thing you will hear them say is "they gave editor or agent X what they wanted, and STILL they were rejected." There are a whole host of very valid reasons for being rejected, and we can't digress to discuss them here. But in our example, these writers listened to the well-meaning advice of literally tons of people in the business, both online and in craft books, and get a "opening doesn't work, I need to care about the characters" type rejection of the opening. From there, they either spend more months and years writing and rewriting their openings or, sad to say, throw in the towel and give up.

Don't get me wrong. "The buck stops here" applies to writers. Ultimately, we are responsible for the quality or lack of quality of our stories. And the real kicker? We NEED to study our craft to improve, including listening and screening vast amounts of writerly advice.

But if there is one piece of advice I'd give new writers (there's that dreaded advice again), I would say listen, learn, absorb. But above all--

DO NOT ALLOW THESE MASSIVE RESOURCES AND ADVICE TO CRUSH YOUR WRITING INSTINCT!

This gets back to the idea that writing is extremely personal. We know our stories better than anyone. And while we must always be receptive to feedback from others, we must also listen very carefully to our own instincts. After all, isn't one of the reasons we write due to an innate desire to be heard? So isn't it counter-productive to ignore our own deepest instincts about our story?

And this leads to my second bit of advice for new writers:

Industry blogs and books will become addictive (the writer's drug of choice), so learn to limit your intake FROM THE START.

There is much valuable information on craft, marketing, business, trends, and a million other topics pertinent to writers out there on the Internet or in books. Go into your writing career keeping your reading of these sources at a manageable level. Set limits. In addition to being bogged down by rules, you can easily spend hours a day keeping up with the industry. You will provide plenty of time for yourself to craft the best novel possible if you don't allow your industry reading to become a monster in your life.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, I really do wish I had written several manuscripts first and THEN gotten immersed in studying the craft. That way my own instincts would have been honed to a much deeper level and I would have been better prepared to mesh my instincts with the rules. All I can do from this day forward is be bold. I need to be teachable, but I also need to trust my instincts. That takes boldness.

Two more posts to come on this subject. Next we'll look at some of the most annoying Ironclad Rules of Writing and then we'll look at ways we as critiquers can challenge ourselves when evaluating another writer's work.

The Dangers of Looking For/Taking Advice On Writing, Part I

If I had my writing journey to do all over again, I would write a bunch of manuscripts first and THEN study the craft, once my own personal writing instincts were deeply entrenched.

That is a comment I made on another writer's blog recently.

I can't speak for other writers, but I think anyone who strives to take what's inside them and craft it into a fictional narrative of novel length is taking a big risk. We have to take the business end of publishing impersonally, but writing is very personal. As a result, we want it to be the best it can be and are insecure in how to achieve our best writing.

So what do we do? We troll for knowledge; for help on crafting the best story we can; we try to synethesize the craft of writing into some basic formula we can apply to that mass of words churning in our gut.

And it is about this time, if we are not careful, that our own instinct begins to wilt in the face of that overpowering synthesis.

Writing is art. Writing is subjective. Even if we took two best-selling novels and distilled common successful elements of both and proclaimed them to be standards of good writing, you are just as likely to find two more novels that have a completely different set of successful "standards."

But writers are voracious in their quest for "good writing" parameters and there are many who are eager to please and honestly striving to help writers improve. In fact, on the whole, I have found all people in the publishing industry, whether agents, editors, or authors, to be very gracious and giving of their time and knowledge to help writers. In fact, the only time I hear anyone in the industry being less than gracious is the occasional comment from a writer about how every Tom, Dick and Harry is out to write a book and is cluttering up the slush pile--as if people aspiring to write books is a bad thing!

But overall, people are very willing to help writers and this is very admirable.

Until the help leads to what are touted to be "The Ironclad Rules of Writing." Innately those who dispense writing advice know there are multiple ways to write a great story, but for sake of a standard framework, the same rules are quoted repeatedly and, since there are a million blogs and books on the writing craft, these rules are repeated and amplified and kept thrumming in your head until the average insecure writer can no longer hear their own instinct calling out to them about their story. It reminds me of the old stamp mills used in mining where the huge iron cylinder would thunder down on top of unsuspecting rock and crush it.

I'll say again, industry people who offer advice are not out to crush writers with rules. They are trying to provide what we want--a magical formula or set of standards. But our writer's brains don't usually properly screen this freighter full of rules and it leads to trouble.

That's why, though you will occasionally find "how to" posts at Arizona Inspiration, my focus is on the writer's journey, not the rules.

Tomorrow I'll give you an example of why listening to the Ironclad Rules of Writing can be dangerous.