Tag: professional critique

Categories
Craft Essentials

You May Be Done, But You’re Not Finished

Craft Essentials

“Rewriting is the essence of writing well; it’s where the game is won or lost. That idea is hard to accept.”

William Zinsser

Little in the writer’s life is as exhilarating as typing the words, “The End.”

If a celebration was ever in order, this would be our moment.

  • We’ve fought through the brain drain aka writer’s block.
  • Stayed at the keyboard till the wee hours of the night.
  • Surrendered free time to the fickle writing muse.
  • Missed parties, events, and time with friends and family.

But now, greatness is found in those two brief words that conclude the saga. The End. The skeptics, the critics, and those who predicted you’d never finish the book will be eating crow.

Bursting with a sudden rush of energy, (along with some well-deserved pride) you share the final product with a friend, your mom, or a writing buddy. You expect the standard oohs and aahs that attend the birth of greatness. Then somebody (clearly someone uninformed) says, “I don’t get the ending.” Or “I didn’t understand why the hero never showed up.”

The feedback is synonymous with calling your baby ugly.

You rationalize their response with the “I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt since they know nothing about writing,” brand of generosity.

Could They Be Right?

An essential component of writing well is the willingness to consider there might be a few valid points in their assessment. Some authors may not dismiss the critique entirely. They shop for additional feedback with an industry professional or pitch it to a publisher at a writer’s conference.

That can be the hard thump.

“It’s a good first draft,” says the pro. “Interesting storyline. I’d suggest you work with a coach or find a good editor to strengthen the plot and help develop your writing style. You have a promising start. Good luck with the second draft.”

If you believed the work was complete, this is a tough moment. A second draft, maybe even a third might be required. Adding more words is not the typical remedy. Killing off your darlings or discarding the overwrought half-page descriptions of the magnolias in full bloom in the moonlit night might be your road to success.

“We all have an emotional equity in our first draft; we can’t believe that it wasn’t born perfect. But the odds are close to 100 percent that it wasn’t.”

William Zinsser

The completion of a first draft is an epic accomplishment. In that finished work is evidence you have what it takes to be a writer – if you are willing to suck up the disappointment and dive in to refine and rewrite your work.

Don’t let the start stop you. You are not starting from scratch. But you do need to take a long look at your book baby with a more critical eye. The rewrite is inevitable as we learn the craft of writing. Every successful writer knows the first draft is seldom – if ever – the final.

Where Should You Start?

  • Consider the advice of the industry professional. If the feedback is general in nature, ask for specific insight for both strengths and opportunities for improvement in the work. For every “no thanks” to my first book – ten rejections – I asked for feedback that helped strengthen the work. I know their input and my willingness to incorporate it has helped me gain contracts for a total of six published to date.
  • Seek assistance from someone who has a successful track record to help move you forward. A certified writing coach or industry professional can help you accelerate your knowledge and build new skills.
  • Take a course – many are available online or through regional writing groups in your area.
  • Purchase and read books on the craft. The patron saint of this column’s book On Writing Well is a classic.
  • Attend a writing conference and select courses specific to your need.

Above all, refuse to throw in the towel (or throw a tantrum) and remember, you may be done, but you’re not finished!

Deb DeArmond

Deborah DeArmond Deb is a certified writing coach and award-winning author of five books. Her books often focus on family and marriage, covering relationship dynamics, communication, and conflict resolution. Her most recent wok is We May Be Done But We’re Not Finished (2021).

Deb’s published more than 200 articles in print and online, including a monthly column, for Lifeway Magazine. 200+ print and online articles published.

Deb helps writing clients achieve success using inquiry, humor, and a straightforward approach. Her clients describe Deb as “candid but kind” and skilled at helping “guide others to discover their answers and solutions to success.”

Website: debdearmod.com Facebook Author Deb DeArmond

Categories
Child's Craft

Your Fifteen Minutes

Whether you write for children or adults, or both, meeting with industry professionals at writers’ conferences is essential.

But what do you do with that fifteen-minutes slot?

I asked several editors that question a few months ago. Here are some of their suggestions. But don’t try to do ALL of these in one session. Focus on those that apply to you and your writing.

  • Most editors do not bite.
  • Come prepared with a few questions to ask the editor.
  • Familiarize yourself with that publisher or agency BEFORE the conference. Study their website.
  • Be truthful. If you don’t have a book published say so.
  • Be prepared to talk about yourself and your writing. Your passion should shine through.
  • Feel free to ask for general help in plotting your writing course.
  • Leave contact info with them such as a professional business card or a one-sheet.
  • Decide in advance on your reason for the appointment. Do you have a book idea to sell? Do you need advice? Do you want the editor/agent to glance at a proposal and give you tips on how to improve it? Do you want to brainstorm a story idea? Would you like recommendations for other publishers to submit to?
  • Pitch only one project unless the editor/agent asks for another one.
  • Ask him/her what they are looking for, or what literature they love and hate.
  • Pitch your story in less than five minutes Then stop talking and listen.
  • Know your genre, theme and target audience.
  • Watch the time—be courteous and don’t make others wait.
  • Ask, “If I incorporate your suggestions would you be willing to review my proposal/manuscript?”
  • Be grateful and gracious.
  • Be flexible. Sometimes things happen!
  • Follow up with a SHORT email thanking them for their time.
  • Anticipate some questions such as: How does your story end? What published author’s style would you compare yours to? Who are your favorite authors in your genre? Is this part of a series? What are the subsequent books about? Do you participate in a critique group? Have you pitched this to others? What response did you get?
  • Be yourself—your best self. Be open, humble and genuine.
  • If the editor/agent is reading your material be silent and let them read.
  • Answer their questions the best you can without defending your work.
  • Trust the Lord to open the right doors and forge the right relationships for you.

Jean Hall lives in Louisville, Kentucky. She is represented by Cyle Young of Hartline Literary. Her premier picture book series Four Seasons was recently signed by Little Lamb Books. Jean is a member of the SCBWI, Word Weavers International, and the Kentucky Christian Writers. Visit Jean at www.jeanmatthewhall.com, on Facebook at Jean Matthew Hall, and on Twitter as @Jean_Hall.

Categories
A Little Red Ink Editing

What is a critique?

What is a critique?

Well, it’s one of my favorites. A critique is very much like a macro edit, only the editor probably won’t comment in the margins of your manuscript. Rather than take the time to stop and comment throughout, the editor acts as a reader and sends you their notes at the end. (Hint: that’s why I like it.)

It’s still important to choose your freelance editor wisely, seeking out someone with a good track record and respect from others in the industry. But this is a step that, used wisely—especially if you’re someone who has spent the time to learn the craft well and doesn’t need help on the fundamentals of writing—can save you from paying for a full macro (or substantive) edit. You still probably need a line edit, a copy edit, or a proofread after this, though.

Let’s get a little more in-depth. What is a critique exactly?

A critique highlights your strengths.

While your editor reads, he or she is taking notes. Lines that made an impression, scenes that were meaningful, moments that characters won your affection. Any moment where they sat safely in the palm of your hand, caught up in the story and feeling exactly as you wanted them to—those will get some praise.

I might compliment your solid hook and satisfying resolution. Tell you how quickly I felt anchored to your story world. Anywhere from beginning to end, plot to pacing to POV and back—if you did it well, I’ll tell you so (and give an example or two).

While I’m reading and targeting items on my checklist, I’m noticing the problem areas as well.

A critique points out your weaknesses.

The first chapter didn’t grab my attention or empathy quickly enough. There was a three-page backstory info dump. Your main character isn’t very likable. Your antagonist is a bit cartoonish. The middle sags. This moment—which really needed to pack a punch—got weak-kneed and sat down.

Those are easy enough fixes. But there may be something more in depth.

What if I can’t keep up with all six POV characters? Or, perhaps, I can keep up with them, but one of them adds nothing to the plot—nothing complex, nothing that makes the POV worthwhile.

What if you have four minor characters who all do essentially the same thing? Can one or more of them be combined?

Perhaps a character’s motivation wasn’t compelling.

If you think this part of the edit might make you cry, don’t fear too, too much.

(Honestly? It might make you cry. I’ve gotten a few that have made me cry, because I’m not armadillo-skinned).

But there’s hope.

A critique makes suggestions.

When I do a critique for someone, I don’t merely point out their manuscript’s flaws and say, “Good luck with that.” I make suggestions. I brainstorm ideas. I come up with a compelling reason or two for something and list a few spots where that might be easy to work in.

A good editor will share ideas about how two minor characters could be combined.

She might suggest adding a scene or two. She might suggest cutting a scene or two.

Your editor could say, “Cut all the on-the-nose writing.” If there are details everyone knows happened, but they don’t move your plot forward? Snip, snip, snip.

[bctt tweet=”A critique is an editor’s professional opinion of your work. Ultimately, though, the choices are yours to make. #editing #critiquevsedit”]

A critique is subjective.

Ultimately, though, the choices are yours to make. A critique is an editor’s professional opinion of your work. If they know what works in your genre, trust them. But don’t let anyone make YOUR story THEIR story.

Sift through the advice.

Put the letter away for a few days and do nothing to your manuscript.

Definitely consider the major weaknesses. Work on those.

And then look at the brainstorming ideas again. A few of those ideas will be gems, maybe even be enough to help you fall in love with a story that was beginning to suck the life out of you. (Hey, it’s happened.) Figure out what you can do with them, and let them take your story to the next level.

And then go for it.

On your own.

A critique is the end of that bit of editing.

Unlike with a macro edit, where there may be a bit of back and forth on the editing (some go as many as three rounds), a critique is sort of a standalone. The editor reads your books, writes the critique up, and sends it to you.

That’s it.

What you do with it from there is all you.

To me, though, that’s fun. As an editor, I find it enjoyable work. As an author, I find it empowering. I know what to do to make my story better.

Question

Have you had a professional critique done? How did you feel about it?