One of the very most difficult aspects of the writing process for any author is how to respond to feedback about their writing.
Listening to feedback in order to improve one’s work is an incredibly important skill, and some authors are adept at skillfully improving their drafts based on the advice they receive (I’ve seen it happen). But what happens when you don’t necessarily agree with the advice?
What is the balance between listening and ignoring? Do you follow the people you trust or go with your gut? Should you bow to someone with more experience or trust your own instincts? When do you go with the advice and when do you hold firm?
Successful revisions hang in the balance!
Julie Weathers says
I’ve been critiquing and receiving critiques at the Compuserve Books and Writers’ forum for a long time. I also belong to a secret society one, where you have to knock three times to get in.
When I give critiques, I try to find things the person has done right. First it softens the blows for the criticism I am about to give. Next, it lets them know what they are doing right so they don’t get too discouraged. Very few people do everything wrong, but from reading many comments I couldn’t guess that. If all I hear is negativity, then I begin to wonder if I am doing anything right.
As for how I take criticism–it varies.
If the person is a skilled writer and they seem sincere about trying to help me I welcome it. If I get the impression they are just tossing out jabs to get a laugh from the audience, then I’ll pass.
I don’t toss out much information that I don’t use. So, if I include a scene where an initiate is giving a sick horse an examination, there is a reason for it. If she mentions she feels a weakness in the stifle, it’s so the readers aren’t suprised later, when someone tries to jump a gully later and the horse fails. I don’t like tossing out convenient coicidences. All the clues are given, the reader just has to notice.
When commenters tell me I need to start slicing and dicing scenes to pick up the action, I have to look at how important the scene is to later action.
Yes, I realize one fight scene after another keeps readers turning pages, but I don’t write that way. Don’t try to turn me into what I am not.
I once did some short stories on an old Indian storyteller. That’s how I see myself. Just a storyteller.
Anonymous says
If it is from someone I truly trust as a reader/critic or from an agent or from my editor, I’d consider it carefully. However, if it’s going to turn it into something that I’d hate or be ashamed of, nope, wouldn’t change it.
For any other comments, I work on the following:
1 comment on something is an opinion
2 comments on the same something is a coincidence
3 comments on the same something means you better think carefully about what they are saying.
I want to improve my work. I want to make sure that what I have in my head is what is getting on the page. I like feedback that tells me where I’ve gotten it right, where I’m off.
Nikki Duncan says
I’ll listen to advice if it doesn’t change the vision I have for my story. Though, that said, I’ve been given general advice by an agent that got me thinking about and in turn took the external plot of my story a completely different direction. I think what I’m normally “married” to is the emotional develpment of my characters.
Then again, I received a critique from a published author once that told me I couldn’t construct a sentence with correct punctuation, nor could I put an emotion on the page to save my soul. This came directly on the heels of an agent telling me she loved my characters and the depth of emotion I made her feel in a few pages. So, umm, I trashed that critique. I don’t care what else she might have had to say.
Elyssa Papa says
Nathan, this blog is so fitting because it’s something I’ve been struggling with for the past couple of weeks–okay, months.
My CPs are very reliable and their advice I take because we have built a relationship where I know what they say is true and they know the story.
The problem comes when I let new people read it, and I get advice or critiques back.
I can take it. I can.
But then I start wondering… if they’re right. What if my conflict isn’t strong enough? What if my writing is just “light” and “fluffy” and fits the elements of a romantic comedy?
I think one of my fears is that if I don’t listen to their advice and change my story, that I won’t get published.
But what I realized perhaps like only a day ago was that I can’t change my voice or my story. I did try and take their suggestions and change it… and I hated the new story. I hated the characters, and it just didn’t feel right to me… or the story.
So basically it depends. You have to trust your gut but also be open enough to take criticism because it could make your story better. But, at the end of the day, if it doesn’t feel right to you… then don’t do it.
I think this will be something I struggle with no matter what… perhaps because I’m just weird like that.
Really great blog.
Anonymous says
I have a picture book that’s been critiqued and revised so many times that now I’m wondering whether the first version might have been the best. I’ve revised with suggestions from my writing group, critique partners, two agents, and two editors. I’e taken out a character and put her back in. Changed the ending. Changed character’s professions. Changed food, clothing, and other details. Now I’m making a final revision for an editor who’ll be taking it to the acquisition committee in two weeks. It’s still my story, but..
Sam Hranac says
I used to have a hard time accepting certain advice, because I was in LOVE with what they were telling me to get rid of. It was a personal growth moment when I was finally able to say, okay, 5 out of 6 people said the same thing. Maybe it ain’t as hot as you think.
Sheryl A VanVleck says
It’s very important to know where the advice is coming from. You should always remember that not everyone knows how to give a critique.
As a professional artist of 30 years, I know to start with a positive. My idea is never to tear someone down. But, not everyone has that agenda.
Right now I am fortunate to have access to a gifted sixth grade class about three hundred miles away. I email chapters and they read them. Beside the fact they love the first three chapters of my novel; one boy, in particular has been invaluable.
He points out things that a kid wonders about that I have not fleshed out enough. He points out things I’m using that a new generation doesn’t ‘get.’ He also has a great sense of humor.
I also have an adult friend who did a one chapter critique. By the end, I wanted to strangle him. He is a nit picker (grammar is my final edit, not my first) But, I also know what his taste in literature is and it was not geared to a modern youth novel. Some of his advice I did make changes on and others I just thanked him for.
In the beginning, I don’t share with anyone but I’m nearing the final draft now, and ready to hear critiques. But, in the end, remember, it is your work out there and must remain so
Moose says
When a number of people I respect say the same thing, then I give it great weight.
Still, it’s up to me to succeed or fail by my own efforts.
Just_Me says
Time to Listen: When I get the same comment from multiple reviewers in my critique group. When I see a published author do it “correctly” or when I can find a better way to show instead of tell.
Time to Ignore: When the feedback is wrong for my genre. IE- when I write a fantasy novel and someone writes I should take out the werewolves because they don’t exist. That was sort of the point, this being a fiction piece and all…
Or when the advice goes against my own moral values, have the character curse more, maybe they should sleep together just because, get the character drunk and let them drive.
I’m usually pretty open to advice from anyone willing to share, but I weight the advice I get. Someone who works in the publishig field or who is published gets more attention than my neighbor who hasn’t read a book since high school 30 years ago.
~grace~ says
if someone gives me advice I don’t agree with, it’s usually because I didn’t do a good job of expressing what I was actually trying to do. so while I don’t necessarily make the changes suggested, I take their confusion into consideration when rewriting.
but I’m very independently-minded (read: stubborn). you really have to be convincing if you think I should change something.
Robert says
I would have to say that it boils down to the critique really and the person giving it. If you when to a person and asked for their opinion, I am sure that you would also respect their time and ideas enough to listen with both ears and an open mind. This person is also more than likely a friend, and if you cannot take or listen to a friend’s criticism, you will never be able to take it when you try and get your material published.
Usman says
150 above said to disbelieve the praise.
I would disagree, if you believe you are getting an honest critique; treasure the praise. The critiquer is highlighting the strongest parts of your writing.
I want to know what works as well as what doesn’t work.
When the advice I get conflicts with my own believes on how the story should go. Then I have a problem.
If it resonates with me, like a scene I never really liked, gets shot down. I don’t hesitate a second and analayse the writing.
If it is a scene I love and know the reasons behind it. I get circumspect.
It is all iffy.
Dixon Bennett Rice says
I’m fortunate to have a critique group of folks working in different genres, but all dedicated to improving our writing. As in AA where you stay sober by reaching out to others, those in my group often learn most when we’re helping another writer improve his/her story. Like Roxan, if there’s just one voice raising an issue, I fugure they’re having a bad day. If 2-3 critiquers jump on the same issue, then I know I’m the one with the problem. In the end, I may decide that it’s a matter of style and stand my ground but first I take a long hard look at the suggestions.
lynnekelly2000 says
Easily, I’ll take the advice that makes me smack myself in the head and say, “Of course!” Something like, “You could say this same thing with fewer words,” or, “Can you vary your sentences more? They’re all the same length here and many of them start with the same word.”
I’ll look at anything that confused the reader, like if they had to re-read a sentence five times to understand what was happening, or if they have trouble picturing what was going on or where the characters were. In revising that part I have to assess whether the scene would be confusing for other readers too or if the critiquer was just sniffing markers at the meeting.
The comments I tend to ignore are ones in which someone thinks the character should say or do something that just doesn’t sound like that character to me.
On a draft of my manuscript that’s on my computer, I make notes at the end of each chapter of the critique feedback I got. That way it’s there when I’m ready to revise, and it gives me a chance to rethink some of the comments after I’ve had some time away from the chapter.
gerriwritinglog says
I always consider the source and the type of advice.
Anyone who tells me how to fix my sentences or that I’m too literate to be writing the genre or that the sentence MUST BE “she’s dressed in a red dress” instead of the more sane “she’s in a red dress” will not only have the draft tossed across the room, but have obscenities heaped on their head, get recommendations for playing in traffic, and then be summarily ignored.
Yes, I’ve had those things happen to be. Anyone who tries to “fix” my prose will be told (insert crass, physically impossible without dismemberment things to do with themselves).
That being said, if a sentence is awkward, I don’t mind someone saying “That’s an awkward sentence.” Then the someone needs to shut up and let me do the fixing on my own.
Why, yes, I am opinionated about my prose. That’s because I have my style, and I worked very hard to develop said style. I don’t want people screwing it up.
When it comes to Story, though, I listen more. Unfortunately, most people say less because they simply don’t know what to say. They’ll say “this bothers me, but I don’t know why.” That’s where I pay attention. Often, I can identify the problem, but that’s because I’ve trained myself to.
But the people able to do such things are rare, which sucks. I’ve gotten to the point where I’m getting rejections from publishers and agents, but no one really can tell me what’s wrong, only that something is. And it’s even worse now that I made another huge jump up in skill level. But that’s a different rant.
I will tell you another experience, from the reviewer’s pov, that I had a few years ago. I hang out on a writers’ chat, and one older gentleman had me read his novel. His writing is very erratic. He’s got scenes of brillance intermingled with scenes that lack focus, lack conflict, or are infodumps. Basically, awesome idea, very spotty execution. I told him what he needed to do. He needed to cut some things, blend other things into other places, add some supporting scenes, boost the really good scenes, and otherwise tighten the whole thing up until it drags the reader through until the end. He has the skills as a writer, and the book showed that he could do it.
He came back to me after reading and rereading my comments, and told me that he thought I was completely wrong, that the book didn’t need those kinds of changes, that he didn’t think what I suggested cutting needed to be, and so on. I said sorry you think that, good luck.
He’s racked up 75 rejections on that book. And I know why. But he won’t listen. And it’s sad. He’s sitting on the next great space opera trilogy if he’d just do what he needs to do. But what can I do? Nothing. And it sucks.
It doesn’t help to ask for advice from people who can identify specific areas and can make suggestions for fixing things, and then completely dismiss their suggestions. That’s what I took away from that experience.
I just wish I could clone myself and have me review my own stuff. That way, I know I’d get good advice. :p :p :p
Mark Wooding says
It’s a judgment call for the writer. The most important thing is to be true to one’s own vision, but that doesn’t mean an author shouldn’t keep an open mind.
If editors or agents were good writers, they probably wouldn’t be in their current professions. Their advice should be listened to, but not necessarily heeded.
A Reader from India says
Hi Nathan, Thank you for the question – I have been ponderfing about the very same issue for the past few weeks, looking over the mixed responses to my excerpt in the Abna contest.
My very first review was from a published author and a professional editor, and though it was rather harsh, I agreed that she had some valid points in her assessment.
The reviews from my fellow contestants were completely mixed -Interestingly, the writers whose work I liked very much gave me glowing, positive reviews and there was an utterly useless review from a writer who condescended that ‘it would make a fine YA book with some editing’ (I love YA literature, but my novel being critiqued is not YA, and no one else seem to think so either). That was an easy one to ignore.
On the whole, the critical reviews have given me some very useful points to work on the next draft. And as many people commented here, one learns to recognise the constructive criticism that really add value.
Anonymous says
I think there are as many schools of thought on this as there are writers.
Me, I take the suggestions and ideas that make the particular story better.
Sometimes I get fantastic suggestions and it breaks my heart not to use them because they are just that good. But they would make it a different story than the one I was telling.
Sometimes I get some lame suggestions and I always thank the reader graciously, but I know I’m not going to use them because the reader was too far removed from the story to offer me anything useful. “Dude, it’s chick lit… why are you telling me how I can make it more like The Godfather?”
I do find that I don’t usually take someone’s suggestion verbatim. (Obviously something like a grammar correction I would, but I’m talking about story elements here.) Instead I run them through my own mental filter and try to distill what that suggestion is intended to accomplish in the story. More of a catalyst for a change than an implementation of it.
“Remember: when people tell you something’s wrong or doesn’t work, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what’s wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong.” -Neil Gaiman
I try to remember that when I catch myself succumbing to the desire to please others (i.e. implement their suggestions) against my better judgement.
And, you know, it’s important to remember that not all advice is created equal. Some people just get off on being catty and snide about other people’s work as a form of self-validation. Some people are going to worry too much about your feelings and hold back legitimate criticism.
Anonymous says
“If editors or agents were good writers, they probably wouldn’t be in their current professions. Their advice should be listened to, but not necessarily heeded.”
Ouch, there, Mark Wooding. Just because someone does not write for a living does not mean that they cannot do it well. Just like painting, dancing, playing music, or any other art.
And don’t underestimate the value that a good editor brings to a work. A diamond you dig up in a field is a valuable hunk of rock, but there’s an artistry in cutting it too.
Anonymous says
I find it depends on how strongly I disagree.
If I don’t think it makes much difference, I’ll make the change and see how that reads. Sometimes it’s better, sometimes not.
If I’m violently opposed to the change, I analyse the reason for my strength of feeling. That nearly always shows me some aspect of the story could be developed further and then used to solve the problem in a different way.
I won’t make a change I profoundly disagree with unless an editor insists.
mpe
Kate says
If the feedback revolves around something which could use a little clarification I’ll listen to that because I know one of my biggest weaknesses is assuming that people will just know what I’m getting at. Recently though I got a critique which chopped each of my sentences up into neat little pieces and told me how to rearrange them. After taking a long, hard look at it I set that one aside. Essentially it was instructions as to how to rewrite the section replacing my voice with the reviewer’s.
That said, if it was an editor making those suggestions I would at least have taken a longer look. There’s a reason publishers pay them to be editors.
Mary says
I need all the help I can get! 😉
But seriously, if the feedback is just praise, I don’t believe it for a moment. Good, constructive criticism, I will always take on board. I may eventually throw it over the side, but if I respect the source and their advice makes sense, then I’ll do my best to use it.
I’m aware of some of my problems. So I’m always pleased when these are pointed out, because I do know how to fix them!
Chris Redding says
I absolutely go with my gut.
If it feels right, even if I think it will be difficult, I go with it.
cmr
inherwritemind1 says
I’m fortunate to be a member of a fantastic critique group — most are published authors. Once in a while someone just doesn’t “get it” or isn’t listening carefully so I simply say thanks and ignore the helpful suggestion.
Listen to your heart. It’s your manuscript.
mlh says
All right, Nathan, I’ll put in my two cents on the topic.
I take advice like I take aspirin, in small doses. I listen to what their saying and consider the side effects on what it will do to change my work for better or worse. Then I give some time to myself to mull it over on whether or not I really need to take it.
I might step away from the writing for a day to get my thoughts clear on what I want the story to be about. Then I put my writing hat back on, chip away at the aspirin, swallow a little pride if I need to, then better the work as I see fit.
Perhaps it’s a stupid analogy, but it works for me.
Luc2 says
Often the (constructive!) criticism that hurts the most, helps the most.
I will look at every comment with an open mind. Often it is a matter of gut feeling, but when there’s a pattern in the comments from 3 or more critters, it’s almost automatic.
As to the “more experience” matter, more experience in what? I want experienced readers with an open mind and a critical view. The opinion of a 16 year old fantasy buff can be as valuable as that of a literary bestselling author who doesn’t really like fantasy. But sometimes someone who never reads fantasy looks at things from a surprising angle, and offers valuable advice.
lk says
1. Personal preferences have a lot to do with it. Some people, including many professionals, will insist that you chop everything down to bare bones. But if you actually have a gift for prose you shouldn’t follow that advice.
2. The advice that I always take first is the advice that makes me say, “I knew (or should have known) that!” Advice that could have come from me, if I could only read my writing in an unbiased, fresh way.
3. I’m more likely to accept advice that says, “I really like X quality, but Y stinks.”
4. On conflicting advice, I once had one person slam a certain “parenthetical” passage, but I ignored that advice. Later another person praised it because it captured the spirit of the whole novel. Suddenly I realized why I’d left it in.
lk says
On giving advice, I often tell people what I would like to see or cool ideas I had from reading the excerpt. This is not meant to reshape their work in my vision, but is actually meant as a positive critique. Good writing spawns ideas.
Anonymous says
This clearly all depends on who is offering the comments. And whether you’re new or have been publishing for a long time, you take each comment as seriously as the person who gave it.
If an editor wants revisions, and you trust the editor from past experience, you usually listen and make the revises.
Same goes for agent advice…if Al Zuckerman says you need to change, whatever, you might want to listen. But if Betty Jane the Blogging Agent, who still refers to her mother and father as “my Mom and Dad” in blog posts, offers advice you might want to think twice before you make the revisions.
Travis Erwin says
Ultimately I go with my gut, but I do consider the source and if four or five say the same thing I have to face the facts, my gut is fat, hairy, and wrong.
Kate says
I have two primary criteria in deciding whether to follow advice:
1) I consider the source. If the person giving the advice is a more experienced writer, one whose work I admire, one who writes stuff similar to mine (or of course an agent or editor), I give the advice greater weight. If it’s a novice who’s just repeating “rules” she’s learned, I’ll generally ignore it, unless I know that’s a problem area for me.
2) Sometimes I’ll know immediately if a piece of advice is right. Sometimes I react negatively at first, but after I mull it over for a while, I’ll see the validity of it. I know my own work well enough now to have a gut feeling as to whether certain advice is right for my work.
In critique groups one often gets conflicting advice from different people. I’ve sometimes found that if different people suggest different solutions for a particular problem, the problem is probably real, but the best solution will be one that I come up with myself.
lynnekelly2000 says
I don’t remember where I read this anecdote, but this reminds me of something I read about E.B. White when he was writing for a newspaper. He reported about a woman who was hit by a car; when her husband ran into the street after the accident and saw his wife he said, “Oh, God, it’s her!” White’s editor told him to change the quote to, “Oh, God, it’s she!” so it would be written in proper English. He refused to change it, quit his job rather than change it, since everyone knows that when a man sees his wife lying in the road he says, “…it’s her” and never “…it’s she.”
Maya Reynolds says
Writers can make themselves crazy, trying to accommodate random advice from well-meaning people.
For this reason, over the past four years, I’ve searched for and found five critique partners in whom I have complete trust.
I know them inside and out–their strengths, weaknesses, likes, dislikes and the odd quirk. That knowledge helps to inform my decisions on whether to accept their feedback.
For example, one has trouble with violence and will always want to soften the action scenes. I tend to disregard her comments in this regard. However, she can spot a soft POV or a passive sentence in the dark, and I never argue those comments.
My manuscripts are much stronger as the result of their critiques and I’m enormously grateful.
Mary Paddock says
I recently faced a first for me–a beta reader who didn’t like the work and it caught me by surprise as he’s always been such a supporter. Frankly his criticisms (which were heavy and many) not only hurt some, they rattled me and left me worrying about whether or not I’d wasted a year of my life.
But this is why we look to more than one beta reader, right? I was very fortunate this time to have several readers (Not always been the case)–two of whom were friends of a friend who’d himself also written a book. Their generous feedback (considering they were doing him a favor more than me) was not only very positive–they were constructive and largely consistent with one another. It made it easy to address the fixes and face the weak spots in the plot.
I realized that the friend who had been so hard on the book had offered some very valid feedback–not only were many of his observations spot on–but it also reminded me that I can’t–shouldn’t–write to suit everyone. Sometimes the reason someone doesn’t like your work is because they weren’t the target audience.
Too, I think we writers are often harder one another than need be–and not always because we want to see the other person succeed. It doesn’t hurt to make sure some of your criticism is coming from people who simply like to read.
It makes sense to pay attention when you get consistent complaints about a scene or a plot problem from more than one person. And it also makes sense to pay attention to very specific comments such as “You have this character walking through furniture here . . .” or “Wait a minute. I thought the character was here. Now you’ve moved him to here.” And statements like “This sentence is convoluted and makes no sense.” bear listening too as well. Sometimes we (meaning me especially) aren’t as deep as we think we are. 🙂
Nona says
When it comes to writing advice, I follow the advice of Stephen King.
He’s not a big fan of criticism, constructive or otherwise. He says that the first draft of a manuscript must be written with the door closed. It’s okay to have an “ideal reader” in mind, usually the writer’s significant other, but that’s all. “With the door shut, downloading what’s in my head directly to the page, I write as fast as I can and still remain comfortable. Writing fiction…can be a difficult, lonely job; it’s like crossing the Atlantic Ocean in a bathtub. There’s plenty of opportunity for self doubt…Let your hope of success (and your fear of failure) carry you on, difficult as that may be…even after finishing I think you must be cautious and give yourself a chance to think while the story is still like a field of freshly fallen snow, absent of any tracks save your own.”
He’s also wary of writing courses. “…daily critiques force you to write with the door constantly open…The pressure to explain is always on, and a lot of your creative energy…is therefore going in the wrong direction.”
And last but certainly not least, he relates, “I have written because it fulfilled me…I did it for the buzz. I did it for the pure joy of the thing. And if you can do it for joy, you can do it forever.”
Ulysses says
My pet peeve is vague criticism.
“X doesn’t work.”
“Y isn’t believable.”
“I don’t like Z.”
WHERE does X stop working?
WHAT about Y is not believable? WHEN did you stop believing?
WHY don’t you like Z?
If I’m going to understand the critique, I need specifics: as many of the W5 as I can get.
Anyone who responds with a request for more information with something like “I don’t know. I just didn’t get it.” Is no help to me at all.
Anonymous says
I once paid for a critique from a person with a good reputation and resume–popular writing book (which I enjoyed), online classes, etc. The crit. was supposed to be in four steps, each one building on the other. It wasn’t too pricey, but I was pretty strapped for cash, so it was a big decision to mail off that check.
When I got back the first response, the expert had one suggestion–a major change to the story (the literary equivalent of turning a serious drama into a light-hearted musical). It was a change I didn’t agree with and didn’t want to make, but I mulled it over. Surely, this person was right? I mean, they had a reputation. They were a professional. I paid them to tell me this!
The problem was, if I didn’t make the change, there was no second step. I had three steps and emails coming to me and if I didn’t play ball, what was I supposed to do?
I considered making the change “just for the experience”–maybe I’d like it! Maybe it would work better. That sort of thing. But I just couldn’t picture putting all those hours into turning my project into something I didn’t want it to be.
In the end, I sent off an email, thanking the expert for the input, but saying I just couldn’t make myself make that suggested change. They wrote me back, saying okay, they understood, etc. And that was that.
I haven’t paid for a professional critique since. My writing buddies are great at trading crits and if their vision doesn’t match mine, I’m no poorer for hearing it.
Kelley says
I follow it if the ones offering it are the ones who are going to be cutting the check.
I follow it if it’s given by others who are pointing out mistakes I should have caught-grammar, punctuation, plot holes, etc.
I ignore everything else, because I haven’t yet had one beta tell me what I really need to know. And that is if the mss is marketable. Will it sell? Will an agent want to rep it? A publisher buy it?
Not a single one has EVER been able to do that. So they’re feedback is pointless for me. Sadly, myy own intuition has proven more accurate than any beta.
Marva says
I guess it all comes down to whether or not you agree with the advisor/critter.
What I really don’t like is somebody trying to make me change my story to fit their style and idea of what it should be. I have a style, such as it is. It’s mine and I’m keeping it. You want to write the story? Then go do it on your own time and don’t waste mine.
Good, this is so far down in the comments queue, I don’t have to worry about anybody critting my comment.
Nona says
Haha, Marva, you’re wrong — I’ll comment on it. 😀
I agree with you wholeheartedly. When it comes to writing, “I’m the decider.” I get to say what happens, when it happens, who it happens to, and what they bloody well have to say about it. That’s because I’M THE ONE WRITING IT.
You want to change it, go write your own story. It’s that simple.
Lupina says
I listen to critiques when they give me an “Aha!” moment, or when they come from an editor who is paying me, or when they come from someone in my intended target audience.
Worst critique I ever had was from a well-known fiction author at a writer’s retreat I had paid large bucks to attend for ten minutes of his/her time. My submitted pages had not been read as had been promised, and all I got was a quick scan, some picking at characters names, and a confused ramble about something in someone else’s work.
One of the best, well reasoned and thought out and typed on 2 pages, was from a 14-year old boy who had read my YA fantasy novel.
I do feel I owe thanks to anyone who gives up several minutes to hours of their life to read what I’ve written. After all, it can be embarrassing or distasteful for them, too, if they don’t like it!
booklady says
Most of the time I listen to critiques, although I often change them in a way that’s different from what was suggested, trying to correct the original problem in my own way. But when I don’t agree with a comment, I set it aside for a while and mull it over. What made this scene/character/word choice not work for them? Is it a one-off, or do they have a valid point? I’ll often have another person critique as well, so I will ask them, too. In the end, I still have final say–at least, until I have an agent/editor!