Critique—Path Markers Along a Writer’s Journey

I read a particular Medium article a few days ago, which had some decent points, but I found myself at odds with just as many others. So, let’s talk about critique and writing as a craft by grabbing a few parallels from my background.

“Professionally,” I’m a helicopter pilot. I’ve flown military and civilian, receiving training from both sides. All of this was formal, structured training, while my writing experience has come from personally sought knowledge. I’ve read several writing-reference books, attended a couple writing workshops, visited a writing convention, and attended countless reading groups where fellow writers critiqued one another’s writing. And this is all prior to completing my novel—Twilight Wolf.

So, my pilot profession has been largely structured and directed in it’s learning curves whereas my writing has been more personally steered. The problem with the latter is in not necessarily knowing where all you should steer to. We writers have the option to take a more structured path through formal education; it’s just not the path I took.

But which path do you think produces the better writer?

Ultimately it’s going to come down to the individual, but I’m betting the structured path is more consistent in producing solid, well-rounded writers. This path is going to get you a wider range of experiences. And it is varied experiences that are going to have the greatest impact on the final product that is your writing. Without varying what you’re exposed to, your present activities can become something of an echo chamber, preventing you from growing outside of whatever the boundaries you’ve incorporated.

Regardless of your path, let’s circle back to the topic at hand---craft. I get that there’s a divide on whether writing is art or craft. And removing either makes a piece feel lacking. Removing art can make it unsatisfying but removing the craft can make it unreadable. So, it seems to me that this is more of a skill level dilemma. The craft side of it is going to be your foundation and framework that your story/message stands upon.

This is a lesson I had to learn myself. Naturally, I have an artistic mind but that doesn’t mean it directly translates into artistic words and stories. If you are any form of artist, you know there was a great deal of time and effort to get you to your present skill level, which means there’s even craft within art!

Now that we agree writing is a craft, there’s an important component we need to talk about from my piloting background. If you came from any sort of technical field, you’ve had some sort of peer review or reoccurring training that ensured you adhered to certain standards. You have this same thing within writing and this comes in two forms. The first is through critiques, which are peer reviews; the second is from your audience.

Be honest, where do you want to find out that your writing isn’t working? A critique is going to give you the information directly, but the audience path is going to give it to you through reviews. If enough of your audience gives you feedback in this way, then the boundaries of your audience is going to be a lot more confined than you’d like them to be.

This is one of the article points I disagreed with because the writer seemed to believe there wasn’t value in getting feedback from others. The thing is, you’re going to get critique in one of the two aforementioned forms. Feedback may be difficult to manage, but it is extremely important and you want it at a point where you can still act upon the provided information.

Receiving and applying critique is a craft that’s independent of your writing, but it’s a crucial skill to possess and develop. Hearing critique is hardest when you adamantly believe that your artistic thoughts made it onto the page. And this is the moment---the point in your writing that’s going to determine the rate at which you improve.

This is a bit of a self improvement sidebar, but as a whole, change is scary. There’s too much uncertainty around change, so we’re reluctant to do so. You don’t have the luxury of looking before you leap. But unless you can swallow your pride and consider other points of view, the most you can hope for is getting better at what you’re already doing. And if what your doing is wrong? What is the end result when you improve on a wrongly done thing? I can’t say exactly, but what I can say is this—an improved wrong isn’t a righted one.

With my novel—Twilight Wolf—I received several rounds of casual feedback that I didn’t outright agree with or accept. One of those things was where my story started. The initial setup was with the wolf—from Little Red Riding Hood—already in bed and dressed as the grandmother. My reader suggested that I should start one scene sooner for reasons I can’t remember. Initially, I threw this out because I wanted to start at this nostalgic moment. I just knew it would be more appealing if this was the starting point. But then I took a chance. I swallowed my pride and wrote the proceeding scene. And you want to know what it changed?

Everything.

That one suggestion completely altered the personality and style of my wolf character. This wasn’t the point of the suggestion and said point was addressed, but it had the added bonus of making the story’s start and initial character a far more entertaining introduction. The adjustment required extra work, yes, but the story was all the better for it.

I had another suggestion in that same cabin scenario. A reader wanted to see the lumberjack introduced slightly later so that “Red Riding Hood” and Wolf had more time alone. When I got this feedback, I did the same thing. I was reluctant, first moving the lumberjack to arriving only slightly later, before bumping him into the following scene. And, again, my story grew all the stronger for it.

These were great suggestions and proved extremely wise advice to heed. But at the same time, I’ve also had a lot of garbage advice. I don’t have examples for those, but the point is to not immediately discount suggestions. You’ll likely get far more parrots out there spouting, ‘Show; don’t tell,’ but there are also really smart recommendations mixed in.

One thing that I’d caution you on is paid services. Quality critique and feedback can be just as difficult to find when paying for it, if not harder. You’re shopping for the service to help you improve your writing, but the service itself is a business venture for the person rendering it. If they want you to be a repeat customer, they need you to have a positive customer experience. And that’s a lot easier to achieve with compliments than it is with criticism. That doesn’t rule out these services but it’s something to keep in mind.

Personally, I’ve tried a wide range of readers and have only held on to two of them. Danielle and Kimberly both provided me with great feedback, so check them out if you’re shopping for this sort of service.

I’ll leave you with one final note; critique is a lot like precious metals. You’ll likely see something gleaming in its contents, but it’s going to take a great deal of polishing before it’s of any value. Just remember—all that glitters may not be gold, but it certainly warrants investigation.