Listen to your critics? Who’d want to do that? What I’d much rather hear is, “Wow, that’s really good!”
You just submitted your latest draft to your critique group. Or your writing class. You bask in their praise. You are an author! Then you shop it around to every agent with a penchant for steampunk YA time travel fantasy romance, because you just know it’s gonna be a best seller. But no agent will touch it. Most don’t even reply. What happened?
What happened was that you stopped at “Wow, that’s really good.” Satisfied with the glib assessment, you didn’t press for more information. Listen to your critics! As an author, I’d rather hear “Your draft really needs work, starting with the title.” Your worst critics are your best friends.
Have you ever entered a writing contest? It’s a great way to get expert feedback on your manuscript before it ends up in an agent’s slush pile. In some competitions, judges give detailed critiques explaining their ratings. I once received three such critiques as a “prize” for being a finalist. I’ll always think of these judges as the three bears.
Baby Bear gave me a nice review. Love-love-love. Period. Since she had to include at least one negative to prove she was breathing, she said my formatting was a little off. It’s the kind of review every writer lives for. Easy fix. Search and Replace. Click. Done!
Mama Bear loved the plot and characters but found issues with the pacing. Her review was spot-on, I felt, because she loved the same elements I loved. Her criticism was substantial enough to take a few days of work, so I’d feel righteous about my creation but humbled that it wasn’t perfect.
Now for Papa Bear. I read her critique last, after I’d done my happy dance. Good thing, too, because If hers had been first I would have spent the evening with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a pound of Godiva. This woman did not hold back. My protagonist was unrelatable. Her boyfriend was more like a creepy predator than a love interest. The first chapter was boring and she couldn’t focus after that. Too much background info. Too little passion. And that was just the first paragraph of a two page critique. Single-spaced.
So which one did I listen to? Papa Bear. I recreated my protagonist. She morphed from fearful to feisty. Her boyfriend toned down the suave and upped the compassion. The first paragraph exploded. Literally. A rock through the front window. When the thing was finished, it was unrecognizable. But you know what? It was better. And bottom line, when I resubmitted in the final round, it won first prize. The judge, an editor, asked for the full manuscript, and here I am.
Listen to your critics. They have nothing to lose. And you have everything to gain.
