Write without Fear; Edit without Mercy (Or How I Learned to Love Critique Groups)

Good critiquing is an art.

With each draft, the work gets better and better, and the author becomes more aware and more confident of the elements necessary to tell a good story. But it’s not an easy process. The first time that I attended a critique group early in my writing career, I was terrified. I was writing contemporary mystery — and I’d never read part of a manuscript in front of anyone before. As I read the first five pages, I saw my three critique partners taking notes, and my fear grew even more intense. But those trepidations were unfounded: my group had nothing but helpful advice, which helped me eventually get the book published.

VivaCritique!

First of all, a critique is NOT an attack of the work. As a verb, critique means to review or examine something critically. The word derives from kritike tekhne (“the critical art”); the Greeks gave us such masters of the critique as Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. Today, through critique groups, we carry on the tradition of the critique, which is one of the most important skills we’ll ever learn as a writer. (from Vocabulary.com)

A real critique is a critical appraisal. My group had a list of criteria, and they gave me sound advice based on those points: Did I have a hook? Was my voice compelling? Did the first few pages draw the reader into the story? What about setting? They applied all of these questions to my work, and made me think deeply about how well the work “came out of the starting gate,” so to speak.

When they began to give me their advice and best thoughts on these questions, they used something that I recommend: the feedback sandwich.

They started with positives: the setting worked well (a Florida island, of course), and the sleuth was fun and interesting. Then, each person gave 1-2 suggestions about improvements that mainly had to do with the hook. That first paragraph has to engage the reader right off the bat. I never saw it that way before, and I learned a helpful tip: bring in the reader with something VERY engaging: a dead body, a dead-end life, a dead something (for a mystery). Then, the collective members gave me a positive overview of those first pages. I loved the suggestions and could hardly wait to revise.

VivaCritique!

Once I revised, I brought the pages back to my critique group, and they added a few more ideas, such as how to shade the setting more fully or how to add a bit of snap to the dialog — all helpful again. As I moved through each point, the story fleshed out with better and better clarity — and I gained more confidence. The beauty of critiquing.

As I said, I eventually got the book published, and I believe largely it was due to my critique group and my willingness to hear their suggestions, then act on them. Need I say that my group became lifelong friends? While we’ve added members, the core group has been stable.

I see critiquing as an art. I create the canvas, but my group members help me add line, color, and texture — all elements that elevate my work. Like a painting, a book needs all of these pieces to complete it. Every critique comment gives me another way to keep improving and refining.

After that first time with my group, I no longer feared being critiqued. I welcomed it, knowing it would take my manuscript to the next level.

Viva Critique!