Critique: Giving and Getting
I am both insurmountably grateful for my CPs and nostalgic for a time when I had none
Everyone extols the value of critique partners and beta readers, but I don’t find the process of giving and getting feedback to be a naturally intuitive thing. It’s a learned process with best practices, pitfalls, and triumphs alike. Bad feedback can really damage an author’s story and confidence; your thoughtless comment or cold tone can, for better or for worse, have exponential impact.
I believe that my writing should be legible to my audience within the book, so I don’t typically respond to feedback. I don’t argue in the margins or in the comments, because if someone says something I don’t agree with, I usually just use that opportunity to shore up whatever point I’m actually trying to make. Most of your readers won’t be able to ask you directly why you did this or that, so the pages themselves need to be able to stand on their own. That’s why I need the feedback of others.
As I progress in my writing career and receive more and more feedback along the way, I am both insurmountably grateful for my CPs and nostalgic for a time when I had none. Working with CPs/betas has allowed me to compile feedback faster, process it concurrently, and produce books more quickly. Without them, my books took much longer to write and revise; iteration after iteration, trying to fix the small details by myself, missing the forest for the trees.
Yet, back when I was querying for the first time, I didn’t have a community, so I didn’t get feedback on my writing. It was very peaceful: I couldn’t hurt my own feelings when critiquing myself. So, sometimes I miss the peace of before, even though I’d never trade what I have now for it. I wish I could meld the best bits of both: the improved efficiency of having CPs with the peace of having none.
I think, like with all writing processes, my critique process needs more time, attention, and refinement. I’ve been thinking about it more critically lately, trying to puzzle together new workflows that give me room to breathe. I burnt myself out revising the first book I put on sub (iteration after iteration after iteration!) and I’d like to avoid that.
A crucial thing I’ve learned in this puzzling is that not everyone is your audience. Not everyone gets it. That’s a lesson you learn in a thousand small ways across the trad pub journey, but working with betas really drove it home.
Feedback that’s right for your book, delivered well, sings. It feels different. It is different. It can be discouraging, but it’s mostly energizing. When you receive feedback from someone who gets it, the process is so much easier. Critique isn’t harsh, it’s inquisitive. When they get the heart, you’re fine rearranging all the organs. It feels like being in good hands, it feels reflective. A great CP is a mirror to yourself—they reflect back all the issues and all the strengths that deep down you already knew. When they hold up that mirror of feedback, you can recognize your book in it.
I’ve gotten a decent amount of feedback that lacked mirror-like qualities. I pick through those like a scavenging bird, yanking out the bits that I need to consider and leaving behind the carcass. You don’t need to implement every single thing people recommend. Discard the items that fade to the background. That’s such a tough lesson to learn—when you want your book to be broadly legible, you think you need to address every single point.
But it’s not laziness to be selective about what you pursue. That’s strength. That’s firm editorial vision. That’s something to hold on to.
Understanding the type of critique you want to get can help shape the kind of critique that you give. Before you send someone feedback, read it over and ask yourself—is my tone appropriate? Would I like to receive critique that reads like this?
Am I giving feedback for the story I think the author is trying to tell, or the story I think they should tell?
When asking for feedback, set parameters to protect yourself. If you’re looking for feedback on pacing, ask for just that. If you’re looking for help with plotting, ask specific questions. You get to ask for what you need, and guide the process along the way.
Please be respectful out there on the critiquing streets—being trusted with someone’s work is a precious thing.
-Kvita