Learning to be Humble

I found my first critique group through a Writing Center and decided to try it out. The head of the group, Mike, was a published author and editor. No one else in the group was published. But they were my readers, so if they didn’t like my work, other readers wouldn’t. All were fiction writers, but a mix of genres. Mystery, Sci Fi and Fantasy, and General Contemporary Lit.

It was my turn. I read the first ten pages of the novel I was so proud of. I looked around the table. Everyone’s head was down and they were scribbling furiously on the pages. Comments were generally kind. Good start, interesting premise, great setting. Some helpful criticisms included: Too many adverbs and adjectives, verbs too passive, not enough tension. I understood and agreed with these.

Then it was Mike’s turn and I knew everyone had, indeed, been kind. He hit me right between the eyes with, “You write a lot of reports for work, don’t you?”

I blinked and swallowed. It was my first lesson in “show don’t tell.” I knew this, didn’t I? Well, no. I had been writing in a vacuum with no feedback.

Now I knew. The first ten pages didn’t work. What about the other 290? Could I handle going through this every week? Let me tell you, it was difficult at first. Every week I went home after the group and just about cried (okay, cried) looking over the scribbles all over my pages.

But I started taking their comments seriously and began making changes. I would revise the chapter the group read and the next, so when I brought it to them, they could see some progress. By the end of the 300 pages, I had, well, my first draft.

My skin had hardened. I didn’t cry as often. I stayed with this group for about five years then moved to another. The head of this group is also a professional writer and editor. I’ve read three books with them now over ten years and find each of them incredibly helpful in pointing out areas that need help: writing better descriptions, jazzing up my characters, and because I love history, reining in my tendency to overload on “reader feeder.”

Every time I bring in a chapter, one that I think is ready to go, the group points out how it could be better. Besides the usual grammar, punctuation, et al, they help me work out the big broad brush ideas. In one book, I completely changed the ending based on their suggestions.

Occasionally a new writer would enter the group. They, like I, thought they had the next Pulitzer. But many of them couldn’t handle criticism well. Ha! They would argue and try to justify why they were right and we were wrong. They left quickly.

If I haven’t proved to you that critique groups are absolutely invaluable to any writer, here are a few other reasons. I’ve never been in a support group, but I think a critique group is similar. You no longer feel isolated or alone. You can bounce the craziest ideas off the group and they don’t snicker. Usually.

Writer, Jeanne Gassman added a benefit of critique groups in our LitPow discussion: “Good critique groups can also be valuable networking tools. They provide information about publication opportunities, contests, conferences, etc.” Amen to that, Jeanne.

Another fellow writer on FB, Robb Grindstaff talked about a critique group of mixed-genre writers. “I learned about world-building from the fantasy writers, a very helpful skill set even if you write contemporary, real-world fiction. I learned how to build suspense from the horror and mystery writers. I learned how to increase emotional tension from the romance writers.” Well-said, Robb. I found the same to be true.

Remember the first criticism I received? My book sounded like a report not a novel? I was vindicated one day not too long ago, when my boss at the museum was reading one of my reports and said in all seriousness,“This sounds more like a novel than a report.”

Yahoo.