What are the seven things you should never do when giving a fellow writer a feedback or critique?
So you know how to take a critique. But do you know how to give one? Writers groups, either in the personal or electronic medium, are the source to get feedback on your writing. Below we will discuss the seven things you never do when it’s your time to give a fellow writer a critique.
You would think this is obvious, but the responses on forum boards tell otherwise. If the Green-Eyed Monster is rearing its head in your feedbacks, consider whether this is the impression you want to give about yourself. Also ask if you’re criticizing more than writing. If you are, it’s time to discover why your own writing is stalled.
If you are having a bad day, decline on giving feedback. To do otherwise will make your words sound bitter. Give yourself time to settle down, return, and be professional. Don’t turn someone’s work into your punching bag. You’ll regret it later.
Writers get enough vagueness from their query letter responses. They don’t need the same from their peers. You can say why you felt the way you did, but you must state why something did or didn’t work for you. Did the writer use passive language ad nauseam? Adverbs clinging to weak verbs? Is the dialogue more wooden than Pinocchio? Point out examples in the prose.
A critique should always be honest. Trying to spare feelings because the work stinks doesn’t help the writer. If it’s awful or masterful, say so. Was there a line worthy enough to line a bird cage or be encased in gold? Point out where it was done. Not only does this help the writer, but others who need to hear it. People learn from examples and missteps—good and bad.
Do your best to judge the level a novelist can take criticism. Often, the recipients will tell you with their words and actions—written or otherwise. No beginner is ever as thick-skinned as they say. New novelists always take criticism personally. Be prepared for them to lash out. Frustration at being told they aren’t a master is always a hard thing to hear when you think otherwise. Getting thick skin has to start somewhere.
This is hard for the experienced who know what’s wrong with the prose and how to fix it. If you are tempted—don’t! Rewriting something for someone else doesn’t help. Instead, it teaches writers to rely on others to correct their mistakes—something they should do on their own. Examples have their place, but reworking entire passages is something else. Even though the intentions are good, you’re hurting the writer. Your voice dominates the prose when it should be theirs. Don’t do it.
You have no right to do this. Period. No matter how bad the characters, dialogue, and plot is, you point out the errors and hope the writer learns from them. If they do nothing to improve their writing, you can point this out too. But never tell them to quit. You can suggest reading novels on the chosen genre, how-to books, agent advice, etc. Yes, some authors will never be published. But it’s not your place to stomp their dreams to the ground.
Agents and editors do that fine, thank you. There’s no need for help there.