Writing Envy and Critique??? by Christine Duncan

A good writing buddy phoned me this week to discuss the good fortune of another writer we know who just signed a rather nice deal. (Congrats again Karen Duvall) Now Karen’s good fortune is not due to luck; the woman worked hard for it. She is a graphic designer who designed her own covers, she is tireless in critique and in sending her stuff out to agents and editors and she writes. No excuses. She just does.

All of which, I and my writer buddy have observed first hand as we have not only shared a writing group with her, but we were also all in critique together. So we were happy for Karen and yet…just a little green with envy. Being the honest sort, we know too, where we don’t measure up. Since we have not yet observed Karen wearing a superhero cape (though she might possibly reserve that for private moments–neither one of us is ruling that one out) we resolved yet again to get on the stick.

Being the writing buddies we are, this means we are going to be meaner in critique. Writing buddies do that. They promise to kill each other off (in literature of course) if the other skips another writing/critique session. They hold the other’s foot to the fire, (figuratively naturally) if the other has not done the promised promo, or submission. They take no prisoners.

Sigh, So much for taking a three day holiday. Labor day indeed.

Do Writers Thrive on Guilt? by Christine Duncan

I have been looking back at some of our posts recently. Okay, I was supposed to be organizing them somehow, but you know how that works. You have to read them again to organize and pretty soon, you’re caught up reading them and forgetting to organize. I’m working on this.

Anyway, it struck me that a large portion of our posts seem to be on writer’s block or motivation. Sometimes on both. And that led me to this theory. We writers like to feel guilty.

Now as someone who was raised Catholic, this is a familiar sensation. I even postulated a corollary that many or even most writers are Catholic but a Jewish writing friend objected. Apparently, Catholics didn’t corner the market on guilt.

So what, you say? Here’s the interesting thing about this. When I look through things I’ve written, I can’t for the life of me tell what I wrote just because I felt guilty (such as when I’ve been to critique for 3 weeks in a row and never brought anything so all my critique buddies are going to kill me) or because I had thought up something really cool that I really needed to add. So, maybe guilt is not such a bad thing.

Carrying the whole thing just a step farther though, writing about not writing does not trigger my guilt. I can always think of a thousand reasons why I haven’t written lately. For proof of this, check out my comment to Georgie B’s thought-provoking recent post,

Routineous Interruptus

. Can I whine or what?

What I need then is more person to person real world stuff to trigger the guilt which in turn, triggers the writing. Nothing like a couple of friends to make you feel crappy for not doing what you should be doing. Only if they are good friends, they don’t say they’re guilting you out. They say they’re keeping you accountable.

Hmm, so do writers thrive on accountablity? I may need to join another critique group or two.

Finding the Right Critique Group by Christine Duncan

Okay, I seem to have critique on the brain, but I’m going with it.  The thing is the right critique group can keep you going for years.  And it’s pretty easy to find one.

Back when, pre-internet, you might find a critique group by finding a local writer’s group from a bulletin board at your local library or grocery store.  That still might work, but the internet is probably the easiest way to find a writer’s group in your area. Some writers groups don’t do critique.  You’ll figure that out pretty quickly from their websites.

Then to get down to the nitty gritty of finding a group that is a good fit for you.

First try to find a group that writes what you do.  I don’t mean that a general fiction critique can’t be good for both romance and mystery writers.  But if you write poetry, you’re probably not going to get the kind of feedback you need. Some people prefer that the groups be limited by genre.  However,  I have been in mixed genre groups and have found them pretty helpful.  It’s your call.

So that leads to the second step here.  Try the group out.  Some groups have the author read their work aloud.  Some groups give out manuscripts at the end of each group.  You read the stuff at home and write down your thoughts, then come in and give a quick crit.      Some groups have the author pass out a copy to each member of the group, who read and critique each manuscript right then and there.

Each of these methods have their drawbacks.  For instance, with the first option, when some authors read aloud, they can make the warning on a pack of cigarettes sound wonderful.  It becomes harder, for me at least, to separate dreck from greatness when I’m not the one reading through the printed page.

Then there’s the one where you take the manuscripts home to read.  It works for many.

That feels a little like homework to me, and frankly that was one part of school I was glad to be done with.  I tend to lose the manuscripts, spill coffee on them, fall asleep before I get them done and then try to cram a critique in as I’m sitting waiting for group to start.

The drawback with the last method of critique–reading each work to yourself before giving a critique is that the group needs to remain rather small or you’ll never get through all the work.

Pick a method that works for you.  Make sure you like the folks you’re about to share your stuff with too.  It really sucks to be in a group with someone who can’t draw breath without annoying you.

Last but not least make sure the group is not out there with hatchets for unsuspecting writers.  You want a group that gives a good sandwich critique–telling you what is good and what isn’t.  You want a group that remembers you a person with feelings.

Good luck!

Critique by Christine Duncan

I liked what Michelle had to say about writers being their own worst critics. It is so true. A good critique can help you determine what is working in your Work-in-Progress so you don’t throw it all out on those days when every word looks like garbage. But there are a lot of other reasons for having not just a writing buddy–but an actual critique group.

The number one reason I can think of for this is that we all have different things we’re good at. Some folks are knowledgeable about writing for a particular genre. Some people have a gift for hearing the words in their heads and taking out the clunky sentences, or rewriting them.

I had one critique group where there was a woman who wrote endless description and who synopsized all of the action in her books, because she was nervous about writing dialogue or action. Although in the beginning, it would have looked to an outsider as though she had nothing to offer to the rest of us who were seasoned writers, a snap judgment like that would have been plain wrong. You see, she was wonderful with grammar. She made us all take out those comma splices and fix up those run on sentences. She made us better while we helped her learn to write dialogue.

Another reason to have a group is to keep up on changes in the industry. This is not as trivial as it seems. I might have heard something at Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers about a change in editors at say, Bantam, while you may have seen something on the Internet about a new publisher, that will help us both with our querying. And potentially help us get more published. Critique groups are another, older form of networking that preceded the net.

Another reason I like critique groups is that they help you get past that bump in the road where you write but you don’t actually call yourself a writer. They help your confidence, help you acknowledge that part of yourself.

And sometimes, a critique groups can help you get past writer’s block. There is something about knowing that a bunch of people are going to expect you to show up with eight to ten pages of your WIP, (because a good group will give you a heck of a lot of static for showing up week after week with nothing,) that makes you get writing, even if none of what you’re scribbling down looks good to you right then. And sometimes, more often than seems possible, even when you think you wrote a bunch of crap just so you’d have something to show those guys, it turns out to be better than you thought.

Critique groups can be on-line or they can be in-person. They don’t have to meet every week. But they are invaluable.

The Joys of Email Critique by Christine Duncan

   

   My critique buddies (You know who you are, ladies.) and I are playing a game.  It’s kinda sorta a game of (this is embarrassing) tag.  It goes like this.  One of us will email another, suggesting we exchange chapters. Let’s call this the I’m-just-checking-that you’re-still-writing phase. It is accompanied by a feeling of accomplishment.  We’re doing something.  We’re starting critique again.

     The recipient, either due to general busy-ness or just plain lack of organization, will not respond for–oh, say, five or ten days–give or take.  Hey, it’s summer, it’s hot, thunderstorming, we’re having a barbecue–take your pick. When the recipient finally realizes that she has an email from a critique partner, panic mode sets in.  Exchange chapters?  Have I written something?  Where is it?  What is it?
     Finally, she responds.  “I’m game if you are.”  The idea is that if she says yes, she will definitely, absolutely, really, write something or better yet, locate the stuff she knows she has written–whereever it is.  She just needs a few days for everything to jell.  This too, gives a feeling of accomplishment, although no actual chapters have yet been exchanged.
   By that time, the original e-mailer has gone back to–hey, it’s summer.  It’s hot, thunderstorming, I think I’m allergic to rag-weed mode and is no longer reading her email so religiously.  It takes days, but once she realizes there is a response, she goes out of the checking-if-you’re-writing phase to the hmm, maybe-I’d-better-get-on-the-stick phase.  This is not as emotionally worrysome as the previous phase, but is a bit of an adrenaline rush.  All it takes is some organization, she thinks.   So she writes back.  “Sure, send me something.”
   Weeks have gone by this way.  Months.  With nothing more than the illusion that something is going to get done here soon.  No one minds; the illusion is pretty.  And it’s summer and it’s hot.  But then the days start to creep toward Fall.  Fall, when traditionally school starts and new agendas are formed, somehow leads to organization.  We’ll exchange chapters.  Religiously.  For weeks.  Until we go into the holiday season, which these days starts around the middle of October,  when we will… lapse into our game of tag because we have to buy Halloween candy and think about costumes and it’s getting cold.
   Sigh.

   Which is why, I think, soon, as soon as it stops being so hot, and thunderstorming, I’m going back to in-person critique.  I can still do email critique too, I’m sure of it.  E-mail me, ladies!

 

Writing: A Solitary Endeavor?

I’ve been a member of many local writers groups–some for years and years.  But lately, due to writing friends moving, giving up writing, or in the case of a couple of dear, dear friends,  dying, I’ve been feeling more and more alone.  The net result has been that I’m not attending critique, since it is too much effort right now to find a new group.  And since I’m not attending critique,  I don’t put as much of a premium on writing as I should.  I still get the promo done, still try to sell the next book  and still  plan to write but more often than not, it never goes farther than just planning.

I  groused about this in an email with one of my now distant writer friends (What is it with the East coast anyway?  Why do you all move to the East coast?  Is there some writing attraction there I don’t know about?)   and she said she was having the same problem.   She’d joined groups as soon as she moved there, but those groups were not close and she tended not to get there.  Consequently, her work in progress was not getting done either.

We theorized about it for a bit.  Her theory is that women are social, and that we need that group dynamic to keep going.  My personal theory is that I am a lazy slug who does better when I have someone to nag me.  For the record, I’ve tried doing critiques on-line, but the nagging appears to have to be in my face.  Emails are just not all that effective on me.

What helps you write?  Do you agree with the social animal idea?  Or do you charge ahead when the writing is easy and maybe let it lag when the idea cools a bit?  Tell us!  Better yet, tell us what your solution is to get going again.  I could use the help.