Showing posts with label feedback. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feedback. Show all posts

Friday, January 27

For the uninitiated, a beta reader is to an author what a beta tester is to an inventor or a manufacturer's research and development division--someone who takes your product for a trial run, then reports about its strengths and weaknesses. It's a necessary step after you've completed a novel, and then fixed as much as you can; other eyes can pinpoint remaining weaknesses and shore up your sagging confidence about the manuscript's strengths.

The reason many authors end up disappointed, misled, or even crushed by critiques they receive is they fail to give beta readers clear instructions about what they actually need to know. And without a clear sense of what you need to know, readers will often go to one of two extremes: cheerleading or nitpicking, that is, giving only positive or only negative feedback.

Well, writer friends, the truth is you need BOTH. If others tell you everything is perfect, you'll stop listening to your own intuition and ignore niggling issues you haven't yet figured out how to fix. If others tell you they see problems, problems, problems, you'll end up in a slash and burn mentality when revising and destroy the best parts of your story.

The solution is actually quite simple: Always give your beta readers clear guidance about what kinds of feedback you want. And conversely, if someone asks you beta read, don't be shy about asking them to provide some guidelines.

Clearly, what constitutes "constructive criticism" can depend very much on individual temperament, past history, and self concept. You alone know what sorts of feedback will energize or crush you. For example, I appreciate readers who find my typos and missing words, while others will unnecessarily beat themselves up for very simple, easy to fix errors. (You spend years editing people with PhDs, and you realize even frighteningly smart people at the world's top universities have typos and dangling modifiers. Nothing to freak out about; fix it and move along.)

With that caveat, I share below some sample beta reader guidelines that you're welcome to use, or adapt to your own particular feedback needs.

Sample beta reader guideline letter


Thank you for your willingness to read and offer comments on my manuscript. As you read, please respond to the following questions and mark any areas you think I should give more attention. Feel free to e-mail comments as you go if that’s easier. I’d like to receive everyone’s comments by [deadline].

Overall impressions

What parts of the story did you enjoy most? Feel free to mark scenes that you feel are especially strong.

Does the story feel balanced--giving adequate time to the right things? Are there parts you feel need more or less emphasis?

Can you tell who the intended audience is? Why or why not?

Are there any elements that I've completely overlooked you think I need to consider or incorporate?

Character

Are the characters engaging and adequately complex? Do you care about them and enjoy getting to know them deeply, even the antagonists?

Which characters do you most connect with and why?

Are characters’ voices distinct in the dialogue? If not, note where you hear problems.

Do the peripheral characters work in supporting the main story without being overly distracting? Do any feel underdeveloped or overdeveloped relative to their importance to the story? Which ones do you feel need more or less emphasis?

Does the main character adequately change through conflict, climax and resolution?

Plot 

Does the story move forward and keep you reading more? Note where your interest is especially engaged and where it lags.

Does the plot hang together and make sense? Do you see any "plot holes"--illogical or impossible events, as well as statements or events that contradict earlier events in the storyline?

Do the plot twists and complications work, or do they seem contrived or hokey?

Do characters appear to have sufficient motivation for what they do? If not, note where you “just don’t buy it.”

Are scenes paced well in terms of building and releasing tension? If not, note places where the story drags or races.

Theme

Can you identify the theme?

Does it come across in a non-preachy way? Note anything that strikes you as heavy-handed.

Mechanics

Note word choices that don’t quite seem right in terms of tone within a scene, or because a particular character just wouldn’t use that word.

Please note any spelling errors, homophone errors (using the wrong sound-alike word), grammar gaffes, punctuation funkiness, and missing words.

Note any continuity errors you see (e.g. wearing a coat in part of the scene and not having it later in the same scene).

----

If there are particular parts of your story that you feel less confident about-- perhaps that bend genre or are a bit experimental for you--make sure you ask specifically for feedback on those elements.

What questions would you add to your own list?
Friday, January 27, 2017 Laurel Garver
For the uninitiated, a beta reader is to an author what a beta tester is to an inventor or a manufacturer's research and development division--someone who takes your product for a trial run, then reports about its strengths and weaknesses. It's a necessary step after you've completed a novel, and then fixed as much as you can; other eyes can pinpoint remaining weaknesses and shore up your sagging confidence about the manuscript's strengths.

The reason many authors end up disappointed, misled, or even crushed by critiques they receive is they fail to give beta readers clear instructions about what they actually need to know. And without a clear sense of what you need to know, readers will often go to one of two extremes: cheerleading or nitpicking, that is, giving only positive or only negative feedback.

Well, writer friends, the truth is you need BOTH. If others tell you everything is perfect, you'll stop listening to your own intuition and ignore niggling issues you haven't yet figured out how to fix. If others tell you they see problems, problems, problems, you'll end up in a slash and burn mentality when revising and destroy the best parts of your story.

The solution is actually quite simple: Always give your beta readers clear guidance about what kinds of feedback you want. And conversely, if someone asks you beta read, don't be shy about asking them to provide some guidelines.

Clearly, what constitutes "constructive criticism" can depend very much on individual temperament, past history, and self concept. You alone know what sorts of feedback will energize or crush you. For example, I appreciate readers who find my typos and missing words, while others will unnecessarily beat themselves up for very simple, easy to fix errors. (You spend years editing people with PhDs, and you realize even frighteningly smart people at the world's top universities have typos and dangling modifiers. Nothing to freak out about; fix it and move along.)

With that caveat, I share below some sample beta reader guidelines that you're welcome to use, or adapt to your own particular feedback needs.

Sample beta reader guideline letter


Thank you for your willingness to read and offer comments on my manuscript. As you read, please respond to the following questions and mark any areas you think I should give more attention. Feel free to e-mail comments as you go if that’s easier. I’d like to receive everyone’s comments by [deadline].

Overall impressions

What parts of the story did you enjoy most? Feel free to mark scenes that you feel are especially strong.

Does the story feel balanced--giving adequate time to the right things? Are there parts you feel need more or less emphasis?

Can you tell who the intended audience is? Why or why not?

Are there any elements that I've completely overlooked you think I need to consider or incorporate?

Character

Are the characters engaging and adequately complex? Do you care about them and enjoy getting to know them deeply, even the antagonists?

Which characters do you most connect with and why?

Are characters’ voices distinct in the dialogue? If not, note where you hear problems.

Do the peripheral characters work in supporting the main story without being overly distracting? Do any feel underdeveloped or overdeveloped relative to their importance to the story? Which ones do you feel need more or less emphasis?

Does the main character adequately change through conflict, climax and resolution?

Plot 

Does the story move forward and keep you reading more? Note where your interest is especially engaged and where it lags.

Does the plot hang together and make sense? Do you see any "plot holes"--illogical or impossible events, as well as statements or events that contradict earlier events in the storyline?

Do the plot twists and complications work, or do they seem contrived or hokey?

Do characters appear to have sufficient motivation for what they do? If not, note where you “just don’t buy it.”

Are scenes paced well in terms of building and releasing tension? If not, note places where the story drags or races.

Theme

Can you identify the theme?

Does it come across in a non-preachy way? Note anything that strikes you as heavy-handed.

Mechanics

Note word choices that don’t quite seem right in terms of tone within a scene, or because a particular character just wouldn’t use that word.

Please note any spelling errors, homophone errors (using the wrong sound-alike word), grammar gaffes, punctuation funkiness, and missing words.

Note any continuity errors you see (e.g. wearing a coat in part of the scene and not having it later in the same scene).

----

If there are particular parts of your story that you feel less confident about-- perhaps that bend genre or are a bit experimental for you--make sure you ask specifically for feedback on those elements.

What questions would you add to your own list?

Wednesday, January 27

Dear Editor-on-call,
Photo credit: Sgarton from www.morguefile.com

How do we figure out where the line is between a stylized voice/dialect vs. proper grammar? I know this is a hugely "case-by-case" basis, but I often find the pieces I write with a bit of a dialect or style get corrected by critiquers for grammar, effectively changing how the character would think.

Sincerely,
Dialectable Dilemma


Dear Di,

I suspect the subtext of your question is this: "What do you do when your critiquers are so zealous in their campaign to promote 'good writing' that they suck all the voice out of your work?"

Let's face it, reading is a subjective thing. Some people like to experience cultures beyond their own, to meet people very unlike themselves--and others don't. Any literary device you choose to use will have its fans and its detractors.

As I see it, you have a few options in this scenario.

A. You keep changing your book trying to please everyone until you hate it so much you shelve it.

Can we say neurotic need for affirmation? Nothing will make you quit writing faster than trying to be everything to everyone.

B. You ignore everything the grammar zealots say, because they obviously don't get you.

Of course, they very well might have good insights into non-dialect sections. Do you really want to lose that too?

C. You ask only those who get what you're trying to do to read and critique.

Here, you run the danger of stagnating, because these friendly folks won't push you to change and grow.

D. You provide requests for specific feedback when asking anyone to critique:
"This story contains dialect. Please highlight spots that you think aren't quite reading smoothly."

If you're getting a lot of advice that feels useless, consider how you can be more explicit about what would be useful. Every reader goes into some default mode when they aren't given instruction. For some, the default is "find a dozen nice things to say." For others, the default is "find every instance of nonstandard usage and sloppy grammar."


You can probably guess which option I favor (D, of course!). While it's a good idea to periodically reassess how healthy or dysfunctional your critique relationships are, don't be too quick to sever ties with those who seem too harsh--or give unhelpful advice. Most folks who get into critique groups do so with the intention to learn and to help. Sometimes all that's needed is a meeting session in which you establish some ground rules, then ask for specific kinds of feedback whenever you submit work to be critiqued.

If that doesn't change things, you can decide to ignore certain kinds of critique (like grammar correcting dialect), mull the crits and weigh their merits, or simply leave if the overwhelming feeling from the group is constant negativity and put-downs.

While I haven't read it myself, I've heard others recommend The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide: How to Make Revisions, Self-Edit, and Give and Receive Feedback by Becky Levine as a great resource for both new and established critique groups to function well.

And when it comes to dialect, go light. Research is essential for making it sound authentic. To that end, here are a few previous posts I've written
Swimming in the crick: delving into dialect
Howdy, 'allo, yo: five tips for researching dialect

And here are some addition helpful links on the topic:

The Uses and Abuses of Dialect
Grammar Girl: Writing Accents and Dialects
Writing Dialect: It's in the Rhythm

How have you dealt with unhelpful critiques? What's your take on dialect in fiction?
Have an Editor-on-Call question for me? Ask away!
Wednesday, January 27, 2016 Laurel Garver
Dear Editor-on-call,
Photo credit: Sgarton from www.morguefile.com

How do we figure out where the line is between a stylized voice/dialect vs. proper grammar? I know this is a hugely "case-by-case" basis, but I often find the pieces I write with a bit of a dialect or style get corrected by critiquers for grammar, effectively changing how the character would think.

Sincerely,
Dialectable Dilemma


Dear Di,

I suspect the subtext of your question is this: "What do you do when your critiquers are so zealous in their campaign to promote 'good writing' that they suck all the voice out of your work?"

Let's face it, reading is a subjective thing. Some people like to experience cultures beyond their own, to meet people very unlike themselves--and others don't. Any literary device you choose to use will have its fans and its detractors.

As I see it, you have a few options in this scenario.

A. You keep changing your book trying to please everyone until you hate it so much you shelve it.

Can we say neurotic need for affirmation? Nothing will make you quit writing faster than trying to be everything to everyone.

B. You ignore everything the grammar zealots say, because they obviously don't get you.

Of course, they very well might have good insights into non-dialect sections. Do you really want to lose that too?

C. You ask only those who get what you're trying to do to read and critique.

Here, you run the danger of stagnating, because these friendly folks won't push you to change and grow.

D. You provide requests for specific feedback when asking anyone to critique:
"This story contains dialect. Please highlight spots that you think aren't quite reading smoothly."

If you're getting a lot of advice that feels useless, consider how you can be more explicit about what would be useful. Every reader goes into some default mode when they aren't given instruction. For some, the default is "find a dozen nice things to say." For others, the default is "find every instance of nonstandard usage and sloppy grammar."


You can probably guess which option I favor (D, of course!). While it's a good idea to periodically reassess how healthy or dysfunctional your critique relationships are, don't be too quick to sever ties with those who seem too harsh--or give unhelpful advice. Most folks who get into critique groups do so with the intention to learn and to help. Sometimes all that's needed is a meeting session in which you establish some ground rules, then ask for specific kinds of feedback whenever you submit work to be critiqued.

If that doesn't change things, you can decide to ignore certain kinds of critique (like grammar correcting dialect), mull the crits and weigh their merits, or simply leave if the overwhelming feeling from the group is constant negativity and put-downs.

While I haven't read it myself, I've heard others recommend The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide: How to Make Revisions, Self-Edit, and Give and Receive Feedback by Becky Levine as a great resource for both new and established critique groups to function well.

And when it comes to dialect, go light. Research is essential for making it sound authentic. To that end, here are a few previous posts I've written
Swimming in the crick: delving into dialect
Howdy, 'allo, yo: five tips for researching dialect

And here are some addition helpful links on the topic:

The Uses and Abuses of Dialect
Grammar Girl: Writing Accents and Dialects
Writing Dialect: It's in the Rhythm

How have you dealt with unhelpful critiques? What's your take on dialect in fiction?
Have an Editor-on-Call question for me? Ask away!

Wednesday, November 4

Monday night I wrote the words "The End" on a manuscript I have been working on steadily for roughly three years. I should be ecstatic, right?

Instead I'm scratching my head about why it took me so freaking long when other people can draft an entire book in a matter of weeks.

Photo credit: deegolden from morguefile.com
My process is such, however, that my "first draft" is more like a NaNo participant's fourth draft. It's not a mess or full of holes. Though I'm an organic (aka "pantser") rather than planner type, I don't draft fast and sloppy. I meticulously research and interview experts as I draft rather than run amok with some half-baked ideas that don't bear out in reality. I revise as I draft, doing big structural changes to earlier chapters when I find I've written myself into a corner. I also do some editing as I draft because I can't seem to not tinker. And because I let my critique group look at a few chapters at a time, and some of them nitpick more than look at structural issues.

From what I can tell, this latter issue is the linchpin of my process problem. I don't stay consistently motivated generating material only for myself. I have a terrible weakness in wanting feedback while I draft. I really don't know how to break myself of it or if I should.  I see a lot of benefit in others with some emotional distance telling me, "hey, your story took a wrong turn at chapter 4" while I'm only on chapter 7, because I don't have to throw out and redo from scratch as much material.

I'm also not sure if I should abandon my method of "draft-ivizing" as some call it, because many other organic/pantser writers I know also stop when a plot problem appears, go back and fix what needs to be fixed, and only then continue moving forward. Steven James's Story Trumps Structure (one of the only books I've read that works with rather than tries to change pantser process) makes clear that pantsers' creativity doesn't work in a linear manner. If it did, we'd be plotters.

This particular story went places I'd never imagined, especially for what is ostensibly a sequel with mostly existing characters. Because a venue change brought to light new things about them. And some of the plot ideas that excited me most required a lot of research, research that opened up some pretty interesting horizons. I now have a lot more knowledge about HIPAA and hip fractures, personality disorders and protocols for EMTs, military re-enactment and draft policies, aphasia and vericella zoster, anti-vax trends and 60s fashion, chemical properties of artists' oils and French idioms, weasel hunting and Pennsylvania driving laws. It's a weird list, I know. I'm not sure what the NSA would make of my Googling habits.

I suspect one of these days, I'll end up writing historical fiction, because I really grooved on all the research. Writing what you know is boring. Writing what you want to know is where it's at. Learning and discovery fuel my creativity. But I suspect I would have just as much fun with my research if I were doing it more methodically, during set periods, instead of chasing down facts as needed.

I know how you readers come to me expecting tips, but we're all learners here, folks. The best I can give you is some of my lessons learned and questions I'm grappling with that I hope will enable me to be progressively more productive with future projects.

  • Be willing to let go of preconceived ideas about existing characters. Otherwise, they rebel.
  • Be willing to live with ambiguity and notes to yourself so that you can do batches of research at one time rather than constantly stop to look things up.
  • Be willing to change your process if it isn't getting you where you want to be
  • Consider whether your desire to tinker with a scene is helping your imagination open more or if it's just holding back your forward motion.
  • Consider when you seek feedback. Would other eyes sooner help or hurt your forward motion? Perhaps there are other ways to gain accountability and encouragement besides critiques on an incomplete project. 

What parts of your writing process do you want to change? 
Wednesday, November 04, 2015 Laurel Garver
Monday night I wrote the words "The End" on a manuscript I have been working on steadily for roughly three years. I should be ecstatic, right?

Instead I'm scratching my head about why it took me so freaking long when other people can draft an entire book in a matter of weeks.

Photo credit: deegolden from morguefile.com
My process is such, however, that my "first draft" is more like a NaNo participant's fourth draft. It's not a mess or full of holes. Though I'm an organic (aka "pantser") rather than planner type, I don't draft fast and sloppy. I meticulously research and interview experts as I draft rather than run amok with some half-baked ideas that don't bear out in reality. I revise as I draft, doing big structural changes to earlier chapters when I find I've written myself into a corner. I also do some editing as I draft because I can't seem to not tinker. And because I let my critique group look at a few chapters at a time, and some of them nitpick more than look at structural issues.

From what I can tell, this latter issue is the linchpin of my process problem. I don't stay consistently motivated generating material only for myself. I have a terrible weakness in wanting feedback while I draft. I really don't know how to break myself of it or if I should.  I see a lot of benefit in others with some emotional distance telling me, "hey, your story took a wrong turn at chapter 4" while I'm only on chapter 7, because I don't have to throw out and redo from scratch as much material.

I'm also not sure if I should abandon my method of "draft-ivizing" as some call it, because many other organic/pantser writers I know also stop when a plot problem appears, go back and fix what needs to be fixed, and only then continue moving forward. Steven James's Story Trumps Structure (one of the only books I've read that works with rather than tries to change pantser process) makes clear that pantsers' creativity doesn't work in a linear manner. If it did, we'd be plotters.

This particular story went places I'd never imagined, especially for what is ostensibly a sequel with mostly existing characters. Because a venue change brought to light new things about them. And some of the plot ideas that excited me most required a lot of research, research that opened up some pretty interesting horizons. I now have a lot more knowledge about HIPAA and hip fractures, personality disorders and protocols for EMTs, military re-enactment and draft policies, aphasia and vericella zoster, anti-vax trends and 60s fashion, chemical properties of artists' oils and French idioms, weasel hunting and Pennsylvania driving laws. It's a weird list, I know. I'm not sure what the NSA would make of my Googling habits.

I suspect one of these days, I'll end up writing historical fiction, because I really grooved on all the research. Writing what you know is boring. Writing what you want to know is where it's at. Learning and discovery fuel my creativity. But I suspect I would have just as much fun with my research if I were doing it more methodically, during set periods, instead of chasing down facts as needed.

I know how you readers come to me expecting tips, but we're all learners here, folks. The best I can give you is some of my lessons learned and questions I'm grappling with that I hope will enable me to be progressively more productive with future projects.

  • Be willing to let go of preconceived ideas about existing characters. Otherwise, they rebel.
  • Be willing to live with ambiguity and notes to yourself so that you can do batches of research at one time rather than constantly stop to look things up.
  • Be willing to change your process if it isn't getting you where you want to be
  • Consider whether your desire to tinker with a scene is helping your imagination open more or if it's just holding back your forward motion.
  • Consider when you seek feedback. Would other eyes sooner help or hurt your forward motion? Perhaps there are other ways to gain accountability and encouragement besides critiques on an incomplete project. 

What parts of your writing process do you want to change? 

Tuesday, July 29

Photo credit: xololounge from morguefile.com 

Instead of dispensing advice this week, I'm seeking feedback from you, dear readers. This will be short but sweet because I'm heading to the Catskills with the family later this week, in part for my daughter to compete in an Irish Dance Feis. We figured we'd make a mini-getaway out of it.

I've been busily working on a productivity writing resource I hope to wrap up in the coming months. Among other topics covered will be brainstorming techniques. One that I haven't used much myself is listmaking, so I thought I'd ask you to share your experiences.

Answer any or all of these in the comments:

Do you use listmaking as a brainstorming tool when working on a new story? 

At what phase(s) of writing do you make lists? 

What kinds of lists do you make?

All thoughts/feedback helpful! Thanks!
Tuesday, July 29, 2014 Laurel Garver
Photo credit: xololounge from morguefile.com 

Instead of dispensing advice this week, I'm seeking feedback from you, dear readers. This will be short but sweet because I'm heading to the Catskills with the family later this week, in part for my daughter to compete in an Irish Dance Feis. We figured we'd make a mini-getaway out of it.

I've been busily working on a productivity writing resource I hope to wrap up in the coming months. Among other topics covered will be brainstorming techniques. One that I haven't used much myself is listmaking, so I thought I'd ask you to share your experiences.

Answer any or all of these in the comments:

Do you use listmaking as a brainstorming tool when working on a new story? 

At what phase(s) of writing do you make lists? 

What kinds of lists do you make?

All thoughts/feedback helpful! Thanks!

Tuesday, January 29


Putting ourselves out there to be evaluated by others--whether it's for critique partners or blog readers or agents and editors or the reading public--will involve risk every time. We may get all negative feedback, all positive or a mixed bag. Any of these scenarios has the power to eviscerate our productivity, though. In The War of Art, Steven Pressfield offers this wisdom for keeping forward movement and using criticism well:

The professional loves her work. She is invested in it wholeheartedly. But she does not forget that the work is not her. Her artistic self contains many works and many performances. Already the next will be better, and the one after better still.
The professional self-validates. She is tough-minded. In the face of indifference or adulation, she assesses her stuff coldly and objectively. Where it fell short, she'll improve it. Where it triumphed, she'll make it better still. She'll work harder. She'll be back tomorrow. (88)

Pressfield goes on to talk about the proper place of criticism and our work. We use it to change and grow, but don't let it feed our inner insecurities. Because that inner force that Pressfield calls "Resistance" wants more than anything for us to quit this whole writing business altogether.

I especially like the hope Pressfield offers here about our creative selves--that we're capable of many projects, thus success or failure on the work du jour should never have the power to make or break us. The amazing future-you will come into being as long as you keep showing up and working.

Have you struggled with crushing doubt in the face of criticism? What helped you pick up and move on?

If you could meet your future self, what would you ask her? What wisdom do you hope she'll have for you?
Tuesday, January 29, 2013 Laurel Garver

Putting ourselves out there to be evaluated by others--whether it's for critique partners or blog readers or agents and editors or the reading public--will involve risk every time. We may get all negative feedback, all positive or a mixed bag. Any of these scenarios has the power to eviscerate our productivity, though. In The War of Art, Steven Pressfield offers this wisdom for keeping forward movement and using criticism well:

The professional loves her work. She is invested in it wholeheartedly. But she does not forget that the work is not her. Her artistic self contains many works and many performances. Already the next will be better, and the one after better still.
The professional self-validates. She is tough-minded. In the face of indifference or adulation, she assesses her stuff coldly and objectively. Where it fell short, she'll improve it. Where it triumphed, she'll make it better still. She'll work harder. She'll be back tomorrow. (88)

Pressfield goes on to talk about the proper place of criticism and our work. We use it to change and grow, but don't let it feed our inner insecurities. Because that inner force that Pressfield calls "Resistance" wants more than anything for us to quit this whole writing business altogether.

I especially like the hope Pressfield offers here about our creative selves--that we're capable of many projects, thus success or failure on the work du jour should never have the power to make or break us. The amazing future-you will come into being as long as you keep showing up and working.

Have you struggled with crushing doubt in the face of criticism? What helped you pick up and move on?

If you could meet your future self, what would you ask her? What wisdom do you hope she'll have for you?