What to do with Criticism: Part Two
So, you've finished a draft (Go you on that, by the way! You're 5% of the way there!); you've found someone willing to read it; and now you're faced with a barrage of their nasty, sticky little opinions. Opinions, in my opinion, are much like children: seems like everybody's having them, and everyone thinks theirs are just the cutest, smartest things around, while in reality they are little booger-covered terrors who don't know their butt from their face, which leads to some awkward family dinners.
Let's assume, for the purpose of this post, that the feedback you got was "constructively critical" (read: heart-rendingly, devastatingly negative, but in a "helpful" way). You know how often people look up "how to dead with positive criticism?" Not often, friend. Not often.
Alright, so you've got this criticism in hand, you're reeling from the blow to your ego... what now?
Here are my top 3 things to avoid:
1. Don't get mad.
No matter how tempting it might be to get angry at the person providing the feedback and write them off--"Well, how many poems have YOU gotten published in the National Poetry Anthology, huh? Did they offer YOU an heirloom-quality, leather bound keepsake collection of the nation's finest poems for only $49.95? Huh? Didn't THINK so!"--do not do this.
Remember, you chose to share your work with this person because you wanted a different perspective. That is, the perspective of someone who is not you, and not any of the voices in your head, (ranging from your Inner Grandmother--"Oh honey! It's wonderful! I'm going to print it out and hang it on my fridge!"-- to what I like to call the "Inner Worst-Case-Scenario Father," who says things like "I wouldn't use this trash to scrub out my toilet bowl. Not only are you a terrible writer, but I now believe you are utterly without substance as a human being and have now decided to disown you. God, I wish you had been a boy.") As writers, we host a whole cast of almost entirely made-up characters in our minds, even when we put the faces of people we know on them (please tell me I'm not the only one who lies awake at night having vigorous arguments with the imaginary version of someone I know, and then is still a little peeved at the real them the next day for the things Imaginary Them said in my head the night before...)
When left to our own introspection, the cacophony of our internal dialogue can become overwhelming and drive us writers to madness. This makes it absolutely necessary to hear new voices, voices of other people, if only so the whole chorus of our mind can sit up at once and yell, "Hey! Back off you stupid jerk!" But we should refrain from saying this out loud. Remember to look for the grain of truth in what they're saying, instead of focusing on all their many, many personal flaws (all of which will become glaringly clear to you in the moment they give you feedback you don't like).
2. Don't agree unilaterally.
On the flip side of this "getting mad" problem, we have the "assume the position" folks, who bend over at the first sign of criticism and just take all of it. Just like you can't reject criticism out of hand, you can't just accept all of it, either.
There's a difference between knowing your audience, and pandering to them. This is especially true when you find yourself trying to write something that will please everybody. Trust me when I say, there is nothing that is going to please your mother, and a cutting-edge literary critic, and a movie studio executive. What is "cutesy" and "trite" to one person may seem "heartwarming" to another; what one person finds "gritty" and "realistic" may come across as "horrifically, unbearably depressing" to your mother.
Take criticisms with a grain of salt. Ask yourself: is this advice trying to bring out the best of what I've written? Is it helping me to say more clearly the thing I meant to say? Or is it changing it into something else, something this person wishes I was saying?
3. Don't stop working.
The absolute worst thing you can do with criticism is let it block you. Much like falling off a horse, getting negative feedback is painful, but an inevitable and necessary part of the learning process. Saddle ol' Bessie right back up and get back on that keyboard, and ride it all the way to glorious sunset of the second draft.
Anyway.
Once you have picked out the pieces of criticism that you believe are genuine, well-intentioned, and helpful, don't stop there. Go back and incorporate the suggestions, fix the typos, clean up the timeline, and try again. Get more feedback from more people. Rinse and repeat, until it's as polished as you can get it. Then put it away for a month or six, and start again.
Have you ever received a piece of especially helpful (or ludicrously unhelpful) feedback on your writing? Tell me about it in the comments!
Let's assume, for the purpose of this post, that the feedback you got was "constructively critical" (read: heart-rendingly, devastatingly negative, but in a "helpful" way). You know how often people look up "how to dead with positive criticism?" Not often, friend. Not often.
Alright, so you've got this criticism in hand, you're reeling from the blow to your ego... what now?
Here are my top 3 things to avoid:
1. Don't get mad.
No matter how tempting it might be to get angry at the person providing the feedback and write them off--"Well, how many poems have YOU gotten published in the National Poetry Anthology, huh? Did they offer YOU an heirloom-quality, leather bound keepsake collection of the nation's finest poems for only $49.95? Huh? Didn't THINK so!"--do not do this.
Remember, you chose to share your work with this person because you wanted a different perspective. That is, the perspective of someone who is not you, and not any of the voices in your head, (ranging from your Inner Grandmother--"Oh honey! It's wonderful! I'm going to print it out and hang it on my fridge!"-- to what I like to call the "Inner Worst-Case-Scenario Father," who says things like "I wouldn't use this trash to scrub out my toilet bowl. Not only are you a terrible writer, but I now believe you are utterly without substance as a human being and have now decided to disown you. God, I wish you had been a boy.") As writers, we host a whole cast of almost entirely made-up characters in our minds, even when we put the faces of people we know on them (please tell me I'm not the only one who lies awake at night having vigorous arguments with the imaginary version of someone I know, and then is still a little peeved at the real them the next day for the things Imaginary Them said in my head the night before...)
When left to our own introspection, the cacophony of our internal dialogue can become overwhelming and drive us writers to madness. This makes it absolutely necessary to hear new voices, voices of other people, if only so the whole chorus of our mind can sit up at once and yell, "Hey! Back off you stupid jerk!" But we should refrain from saying this out loud. Remember to look for the grain of truth in what they're saying, instead of focusing on all their many, many personal flaws (all of which will become glaringly clear to you in the moment they give you feedback you don't like).
2. Don't agree unilaterally.
On the flip side of this "getting mad" problem, we have the "assume the position" folks, who bend over at the first sign of criticism and just take all of it. Just like you can't reject criticism out of hand, you can't just accept all of it, either.
There's a difference between knowing your audience, and pandering to them. This is especially true when you find yourself trying to write something that will please everybody. Trust me when I say, there is nothing that is going to please your mother, and a cutting-edge literary critic, and a movie studio executive. What is "cutesy" and "trite" to one person may seem "heartwarming" to another; what one person finds "gritty" and "realistic" may come across as "horrifically, unbearably depressing" to your mother.
Take criticisms with a grain of salt. Ask yourself: is this advice trying to bring out the best of what I've written? Is it helping me to say more clearly the thing I meant to say? Or is it changing it into something else, something this person wishes I was saying?
3. Don't stop working.
The absolute worst thing you can do with criticism is let it block you. Much like falling off a horse, getting negative feedback is painful, but an inevitable and necessary part of the learning process. Saddle ol' Bessie right back up and get back on that keyboard, and ride it all the way to glorious sunset of the second draft.
Anyway.
Once you have picked out the pieces of criticism that you believe are genuine, well-intentioned, and helpful, don't stop there. Go back and incorporate the suggestions, fix the typos, clean up the timeline, and try again. Get more feedback from more people. Rinse and repeat, until it's as polished as you can get it. Then put it away for a month or six, and start again.
Have you ever received a piece of especially helpful (or ludicrously unhelpful) feedback on your writing? Tell me about it in the comments!
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