Developing a Critical Eye

One of my most favorite writing events is returning in a couple of weeks, WriteOnCon. What is it you ask? Well it’s an all virtual kidlit writing conference where the events are either free or for a small fee. And by small fee, we are talking anywhere from $1 to $10. Sounds pretty cool right?

Well even better, industry professionals, agents, editors, and authors write blog posts, host live question and answer sessions, and take pitches. And if that’s not enough, there’s a free, yes I said FREE, critique forums where you can post your work, get feedback from writers, find potential critique partners AND possibly get agent feedback or requests from the ninja agents sneaking through the forums. It’s all pretty amazing.

But with all that awesome, surprisingly that’s not what I’m here to talk to you about today. One of the most valuable things I’ve gotten out of WriteOnCon in the past wasn’t just the feedback, or industry advice (and don’t get me wrong, it’s fantastic and super helpful), but it’s the forums themselves. And no I’m not talking about the ninja agents, sure they’re exciting and a lucky few people will get feedback and some EXTREMELY lucky writers will get requests, but there’s something valuable right in front of us writers and we don’t even know it.

The actual queries and first pages.

So let me back up a second. Writers join the forums and then post their queries and first 5 or so pages. Then they can read through the forums and critique other writers. So just by having your stuff out there and helping others, you’re likely to get feedback and maybe even find a new critique partner. But the thing I learned the most from was by reading hundreds and hundreds of queries and first pages. And I mean HUNDREDS.

For an entire weekend, you can pretend like you’re an agent reading the slush pile. There’s no better way to learn how to construct an awesome query letter and gripping first pages then by reading a ton of them. The more you read, the more you start to see what works and what doesn’t, what’s common and what’s unique, what mistakes others often make and what comes off stellar.

When looking at our own stuff, it’s often really hard to see where the issues are, but by reading tons of other people’s work, you learn how to improve your query and first page writing. You can read other work, form an opinion and then see how others are responding as well. This activity more than any other, really helps you develop that critical eye. Even better you can see where agents have commented and see if you agree with what they said.

So go out there and enjoy WriteOnCon, and all the amazing advice and activities. But don’t forget to spend some quality time on the forums with the queries and first pages there. You’ll be glad you did! And be sure to tell us in the comments what you are most looking forward to during WriteOnCon.

WriteOnCon is a three-day online children’s book conference for writers and illustrators of picture books, middle grade, young adult, and even new adult. For more information visit http://writeoncon.org/

The Scariest Thing About Writing....

Happy Halloween!

Middle Grade Minded has spent a lot of time this month highlighting some amazing new books, some of which have spooky themes.

But I decided that today I would focus on one of the scariest things that all writers - whether newbies or seasoned pros - must wrestle with:

SHARING YOUR WORK!

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We've all been there.

You've been working on something for weeks, months, sometimes even years, and you're finally ready to have someone else read it.

Cue: sweaty palms.




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Most of you no doubt have critique groups, beta readers, or your favorite reader, but whoever your first reader is, it is fair to say that you probably have a strong sense that you are putting your future happiness in the hands of this person or people.

I mean, you KNOW they're going to give you feedback, and not all of it can be good, right?

Like maybe you have a few grammatical errors, some minor punctuation, things that are easily fixed and then you're away to the races again.

Because really, you just worked SO HARD. How could they possibly think it is anything less than award winning?

What kind of suggestions could they possibly have? Why would they want to break your heart by finding those plot holes, those half-baked characters, your flawed beginning/ending/take your pick?




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I'm never quite sure which is worse: feedback that basically tears your entire work apart, or feedback that isn't really feedback. Because catching typos, while helpful, is NOT what you need at this stage.

What you need are fresh eyes.

And like going to the dentist, getting feedback relatively early in the process (but not before at least two or three drafts) is needed even if it's a less than happy experience.

Having said that, I think there are some important things you need to ask of your first readers:

1) Recognize that not everyone likes their criticism delivered the same way.

Some of us like it hidden in a spoonful of sugar:




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If you are such a person, make sure you tell your readers to:

a) share the good stuff first
b) share the harder stuff in the middle
c) end on something good

Others of us want just the facts. Give it to me and give it to me straight!



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2) Give them a specific time frame by which you'd like their feedback

One of the worst things is not knowing when someone will get back to you. If you are a clock-watcher, you need to ask your reader by what date they will get back to you.



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That way you're not worried that they read the book on day one and have been tortured ever since about how to tell you it's utter crap (Wait - am I the ONLY person who's ever thought this?)

Having a set date also gives you permission to check in a few days prior to make sure they haven't - AHEM - forgotten to read your book...

3) Work on other things while you're waiting for the feedback

People tell you this all the time. It appears that working on other things takes your mind off querying, subbing, waiting for feedback.

And yes, that's true. Mostly.

Because somewhere in the back of your mind you know it's out there. You imagine your reader, reading your book, eyes sparkling with joy, calling their friends and saying "truly, this is the best thing I've ever read!"




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Eventually the feedback does come back.

Some of the comments will be wonderful - your reader got what you were trying to do!

Some will make you make you think "Doh! How did I miss THAT?"

Some will make you wonder if your reader was awake when they read your work.

Mostly, you will read it and be thankful, because those fresh eyes just made your next revision so much easier!

How about you - I'd love to hear how you handle initial reader feedback.

Until next time, have a safe and Happy Halloween and




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Caught in the Contest Hype

It's that time of year again, where writerly folks are all abuzz about PitchWars. I mean sure it's exciting, if you get picked you get a mentor, some awesome manuscript notes, and access to an amazing list of agents reading your submission. It sounds like a dream come true, a match made in heaven, the stars aligning but wait...

Yes I said BUT

and this is a HUGE ENORMOUS BUT,

If that's all you're focused on, you're missing the point of pitchwars and writing contests in general. Let's be honest--and not to belittle PitchWars and other writing contests because I think they have great value to them--you can do everything PitchWars does for you on your own.

1) You can find an awesome beta reader (or several in fact) to help you shine up your manuscript.

2) You can edit and get additional feedback.

3) And you can query most if not all of the agents in contests and more on top of that.

So what do you need PitchWars and other contests for if you can do all this stuff on your own?

Networking - Writing is lonely. It's really easy to get lost and feel isolated, like you're the only one who has gone through this. But you aren't. Many others have. And contests are filled with mentors, hopefuls, and other industry people that are great to meet and interact with. Who knows, you might find your next CP match, an awesome beta reader, or some amazing fellow nerds like yourself. So get out there and talk to folks.

Editing tips - Contests almost always share tips and talk about ways to shine up your manuscripts. You can learn a lot of common mistakes to look for and make your manuscript stand out even more. I've picked up a ton of editing tips that I now use on all my work. So use this time to learn and grow as a writer.

Feedback - In many contests you will get direct feedback on a query, pitch, and/or opening pages. Use that to help hone in your work and make it pop from the first words. If you hook a reader right away, odds are agents will want to see more too. And if the contest doesn't directly offer feedback go back to the networking and find some new people to swap with to get that feedback.

Industry Wisdom - Many contests have writers that are further along in the writing process. Use them as a resource to learn about what comes next. What's it like to have an agent? go on sub? use a publicist? how do royalties work? etc. There's a whole huge writing world out there with tons of previous lessons learned, listen to the advice and gain a valuable perspective on the industry.

Reading material - Looking for new books to add to your to read pile? Looking to explore more in a genre? Need some research material? Contests are a great way to find new reading material. Whether it's the contest hosts/mentors' books, the books the participating agents are repping, or suggestions you get from fellow participants, contests are a great way to find tons of great reading material.

So the next time you find yourself biting your nails over a contest and freaking out about whether or not you'll get picked, take a step back. Look at the larger view of the contest. Get to know the participants, learn some new tips and tricks, and just have fun. Forget about who gets picked and who doesn't. Utilize all the opportunities that are right in front of you. And when you do, you'll be a winner whether you're picked or not.

Google is Good Enough Right?

Shrine in Kyoto, Japan

Let's talk about research for a second. We all know it's important to do our homework when writing about other locations, times in history, cultures, and people different from us. And Google is a wonderful place, surely that gets me everything I need to know to write an amazingly accurate book right?

Here's the thing, Google is pretty awesome, and will get you a good chunk of the way there, but if you want something accurate you need to go to a source. Here's why.

Kobe, Japan

I expected a modern city, but I also expected cool temples, and shrines. You see those in the movies all the time right? They must be every where. Not so much. In fact the city I stayed in, Kobe, was more industrial than anything. There were shrines but they were few and far between, and often quite small. And that grand city I thought I'd see wasn't really what I expected at all.

Kyoto Street Corner

Sure when I went into Kyoto on the weekend, I saw castles, temples, and shrines, but they weren't on every corner there either. We walked about 10 miles toward one temple without seeing any other shrines, castles, or temples. What we did see, a modern city which was more of what I had expected to see in Japan.

Kyoto street on the way to a temple

Another surprise, cities in Japan don't appear to have a beginning and end like they do in the US. When riding the train, one city seemed to meld into the next with no apparent city line or less populated area in between. Buildings and houses just seemed to go on forever with no break. In the areas I visited, there didn't seem to be any places where there were large fields and open spaces. In fact space is a premium here. You will frequently see rice patties right next to houses and other buildings. Not an inch of space is wasted.

Japanese Rice Patty

And the cosmetic differences were just the beginning of my adventure in Japan. The more I explored, the more alienated I felt. I found myself in a world where I didn't understand street signs, because not only were they in Japanese, but they were in characters I didn't recognize. I didn't understand the words being said to me on a regular basis. Ordering in a restaurant often proved challenging and we frequently resorted to pointing to pictures on a menu. We often passed by numerous restaurants before stopping at one because we had no idea even from the pictures what that place was serving. And with a seafood allergy, I had to be extremely careful to make sure I wasn't getting things I shouldn't be eating. On the flip side, in a lot of places, there was more English than I expected. I was able to get by, but things were still challenging.

Even the little things put me on my toes at times I didn't expect. The Japanese drive on the other side of the road, so that means looking the opposite direction when crossing a street. You don't realize how much of a habit looking right is until you almost get run over by a car. And that means the escalators are backwards to, you go up on the left. I lost count of how many times I tried to go up the down escalator in the hotel. Even just walking the path around the edge of Rokko Island I was constantly playing chicken with people and doing the back and forth dance because I'd move the wrong way to allow them to pass.

Nijo-jo Castle - notice the people walking in on the left and exiting on the right.

Even queuing up for the train was an adventure. Yes, there's a line, and if you get in the wrong one, you either aren't getting on the train or you're going to make people mad. I'd like to blame some of my ineptitude on being a stupid American, but after a while I just felt like a complete idiot. I started to wonder if people here would hate me for being such a moron. But even that is hard to believe, with how incredibly gracious, polite, and accommodating the Japanese people are. They always say thank you, they speak quietly and almost never raise their voices, and I can count on one hand the number of times I heard a car honk it's horn while driving and walking around.

Rokuon-ji - The Golden Temple

So why do I make a big deal about all these seemingly inane details about every day life? Because those are the details that can make all the difference between writing a book, and writing a believable one that your reader can get an immersive, true experience in. And because I never would have known all these things without visiting Japan in person.

So the next time you write about a place you've never been, a culture you've never experienced, or people that are different from you, stop for a minute and think about the ways you can learn about the things you don't understand. Take a vacation to the place you are writing about, interview people from the cultures you know nothing about, find beta readers who understand the experiences you are trying to portray.

While the internet is a wonderful place, nothing can replace having lived the experience. If you can't live it yourself, I implore you to find someone who has. Writing without having the source at hand, is the equivalent of using Google translate on another language, it generally gets the message across, but some things are lost in translation. And is that really how you want your book to be?

Translated sign in the restroom. Funny but somewhat lost in translation.

So Your Writing Has Been Critiqued -- Now What?

Recently there's been a flurry of hashtag activity on Twitter centered around the Pitch Wars writing contest. I was lucky enough to participate in Pitch Wars a couple of years back (shout out to Brent Taylor!). A number of the contributors here at MG Minded are mentors in this most recent round, but I'm not one of them. I'd be perfectly willing to be one if ever called upon, since Brenda Drake, Pitch Wars, and especially Pitch Madness are all big parts of why I have an agent today. (Brenda probably has a waiting list of enough potential mentors to get her through Winter of 2027 though, so it's safe to say she's got it covered.)

I think I'd be fairly qualified to act as a mentor or even just offer critiques to other writers, with the advanced education degree and the English minor and the decades of instructional experience, along with my own reading and writing background. But even if I were to put all of that on a little laminated business card to proclaim my level of assumed expertise as any kind of mentor or critique partner, it wouldn't mean all that much. With whatever background I have, all I could hope to offer anyone would be an opinion. Hopefully something of an informed opinion, but an opinion all the same, and one that wouldn't necessarily be any more or less valid than anyone else's. In the end, that's all critiquing is.

There are very few, if any, absolutes when it comes to evaluating art. You could ask five different critique partners to read your work and have them come back with five drastically different takes, then you could query fifty different agents with your revised manuscript and have forty-nine of them pass for different reasons. But as we all know it only takes one, and if you get that one yes, then YAY! Someday you and your agent will find yourselves out on submission, patiently waiting for what could easily result in seventeen different editors passing for seventeen reasons that have nothing to do with each other.

All of that subjectivity is important to remember when you enter a contest like Pitch Wars, or even as you search for a compatible critique partner. Contest mentors and critique partners want to help you realize the full potential of your manuscript. In doing so, they'll point out the strengths of your writing along with things they think could be improved, even if sometimes you don't like hearing it. I can think of times I've received feedback and had the knee-jerk reaction of, "But wait, NO, you missed the point! I know you said, 'Do this differently in this part,' but that's already exactly what I was doing! How can you not see that?!" Only later did it occur to me that if someone else didn't understand what I was trying to do, I hadn't gotten the job done yet.

If someone tells you something about your manuscript and you don't necessarily agree, it's still a good idea to at least give some serious thought to what they had to say, even if you don't end up taking their advice. But if you keep hearing feedback from different readers mentioning the same improvements to be made, you probably want to give your work another look, even if it means venturing into the "kill your darlings" territory and exploring things about your manuscript you hadn't thought about before.

Ultimately it's your work, and it's up to you to decide how to prepare it for the contest you're entering or the agents or editors on your query list. But if you're fortunate enough to make the cut for something like Pitch Wars, or you find critique partners or Beta readers willing to look at your writing and offer their opinion, take in what they have to say with an open mind.

Outside of a (thankfully) select few, these people are going to be in your corner. They are investing themselves and their time in your work, because they want to see your writing become the best version of itself that it can. The smartest thing you can do is take advantage of that.

How To (Not) Be An Awful Critique Partner

I’m not going to mince words or tap dance around the pink elephant blowing bubbles in the family room last Thanksgiving*…I’m probably the last person in this particular sliver of the Milky Way you’d want to come to if you got a manuscript or some other work and need a critique. I mean, if your options are me, Simon Cowell, and Donald Trump, I guess I’d do, but totally only in that “lesser of three evils” kind of way.

Technically, I think that’d actually be one of those “lesser of one MG writer and two arch demons” situations, but let’s not split hairs.

The point is, if you want a good critique, I shouldn’t be your first stop. Believe me, I know a good critique partner when I see one. In fact, I have several excellent critique partners imprisoned in my basement, who I’ve apparently befuddled in some kind of inexplicable mystic thrall which keeps them willing to continue reading my scribblings despite that fact that I’m about as helpful a “partner” as a T-Rex is at a team LEGO building competition.

The problem is, when I read a book or watch a movie, I tend to have a singular, binary reaction to it. That is, I either love it or I hate it. And while love and hate are fantastic sources of conflict for a story, they aren’t so helpful when it comes to making something better.

“I LOVE this! It’s like rainbows and pixie dust are dancing in my head! Don’t change a word!”

“I HATE this festering pile of armadillo puke! It makes me want to burn things. ALL the things! You need to change every word!”

See? Not so constructive.

But if you do this writing thing for long at all, you’re soon going to want another person’s opinion of your work. But nobody wants to be the kind of leech who asks someone to critique their own stuff and then seizes up like a startled clam when asked to return the favor. Seriously, that’s how Bond villains get started. One day it’s, “Sorry, no, I don’t feel comfortable critiquing your ode to Jessica Rabbit” and next it’s, “I’m going to unleash my plasma sharks into the world’s oceans, which will destabilize the currency markets allowing me to rule from atop my mountain of actual gold bars!”

Ahem.  Sorry.

Anyway, in the interest of making sure I didn’t end up sporting an eye patch and a fancy polyester suit, while spending my weekends shopping for Secret Subterranean Hideouts, I figured I needed to get a handle on how to read someone else’s stuff and give them useful feedback. Here, then, are the things I try to keep in mind after reading something I’ve been asked to critique:

• Be Upfront – I’ve finally gotten to the point that I’m happy to read something for a writer friend, but only if I deliver my caveats first. This doesn’t have to be the legal fine print of a car commercial, but you do want to set expectations. I always tell whoever I’m reading for what it is I’m good at, and not so good at, when it comes to critiquing. While I don’t particularly like admitting that my eyes fly over misspelled words in a story like a squad of F-18’s at the start of a NASCAR race, but the fact is that I’m terrible at copy-editing. Seriously, I even need a proof reader for my tweets. My brains sees what it wants, not necessarily what’s on the page, and it’s only fair that my critique victim partner knows that. Likewise, though, I do well when it comes to evaluating plot, and pace, and picking up odd character threads within it. As long as all parties know what to expect, everyone is happy.
• Be Selfless – This is critiquing business is important, and it’s not about you. In fact, let’s repeat that, because it’s something most people (myself included) struggle with these days and it’s sorta basicall critical: This. Is. Not. About. You. It’s not about what you want from your writing or even what you want from the story your reading, it’s about helping your critique partner developer their story into the Most Fabulous Awesome Story possible. Put yourself aside, then, as you make your way through the critique, and focus on what’s important. 
• Be Specific – Telling someone their story has less conflict than an aisle full of Strawberry Shortcake figures isn’t giving them anything to build on. Even if their story does need more conflict, a good critique means offering examples and suggestions. For instance, “Hey, that part when Muffet sits on her tuffet all day and enjoys the sunlight is great – I loved that we learn about her obsession with curds and whey there – but it kind of drags a little. Maybe toss in a visit from a lizard or a mouse or spider or something to spice it up and keep the reader on edge!”
• Be Honest – This is kind of a no-brainer, but you’re not helping anyone if you can’t be square with them. Whoever you’re reading for wants to query or submit the very best work they can create, and if you offer a critique that glosses over parts that need serious work but might be difficult to discuss, you’re not helping anyone but yourself. And if that’s all you wanted to do with your day, you could have stayed at home and binge-watched Netflix.
• Be Thoughtful – As a human, there are few things worse than bearing your soul to someone else and getting a kind of “meh” reaction in return. In fact, for every first “I love you” in life that’s met with “I need to pick up the dry cleaning”, a puppy morphs into a bridge troll. And let me tell you, a writer sharing their work with you is every ounce that same defenseless, soul-bearing experience. Don’t give them the feedback equivalent of “meh”, give them something with meat, something they can really chew up and digest. Think hard about what could make their story stronger, and would keep you turning from page to page to page.

Is this all likely to make you Critique Partner of the Year? No. Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing that’s real. But a thoughtful approach to a critique, even when you know it’s not you’re a-game, is, at least, likely to help your critique partner developer a better manuscript. And at the end of the day, isn’t making sure we all help each other share our best stories with the world pretty much the whole point of all of this?

Well, that, and making sure you keep from getting the critique cold shoulder yourself.

Did you ever suffer from Critiquing Cold Feet? How did you go about conquering it?

Pud’n

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*Was that pink elephant only at my house? I knew I shouldn’t have sipped Aunt Edna’s “Coke”

The Power of Positive Critique – The Sandwich Method

I hate having to tell people what they did wrong. It’s hard and I don’t like disappointing people. And that is one reason why writing is so great--it’s subjective. Writing doesn’t have a lot of right and wrong to it. So when you critique you can focus on feedback that is telling the writer what’s not working for you as the reader. That said, if feedback isn’t delivered with care, it can be debilitating to a writer, especially one just starting out. This is why I love the sandwich method.

Yes I said sandwich, but unfortunately it’s not the eating kind. It’s the critiquing kind. So let’s decompose the sandwich method. In a standard sandwich you have the bread and the meat/veggie center. The bread is the good part. It’s got to be there otherwise you can’t have a sandwich. So when you critique someone it’s always helpful to start with something you liked about their work. Between characters, concept, story, setting, voice etc. you should be able to find something good about the work you are critiquing.

After first slice of bread comes the core of the sandwich. This is where you need to decide if you are a turkey sandwich, a ham sandwich, a BLT or something else. (I’m starting to get hungry) What goes on the sandwich is the things you want to discuss, what worked, what didn’t what might need some tweaking etc. You may choose to make this a turkey sandwich only and focus on just one issue that needs a lot of work, or you may decide you want a turkey with all the fixings, in which case you might discuss a lot of things you noticed. Just make sure you pile that sandwich with care. If you put the wrong combination of items it might not taste good. Or if you pile too high, the whole sandwich might topple over. Just like this…

I know that’s a bacon sandwich and what could honestly be wrong with bacon, but look at the structural integrity of that sandwich (sorry, I’m an engineer). That thing is a few strips of bacon from toppling onto that dirty table, and who wants gross bacon? Certainly not me. The same goes for meat of the feedback. If you pile too much on at once you risk knocking over the writer’s feelings. People have a threshold on how and what they can handle, so make sure you aren’t serving them a sandwich they can’t eat.

Yeah, I know, it’s all about the bacon. But you can’t have a sandwich without the top piece of bread. And that bread is again the good stuff. (Yes better than the bacon I SWEAR!) So make sure you cap off your feedback by again saying something nice. Start with good and end with good. If you do that, you’ll reel the writer in with what they really need to focus on without crippling them. Otherwise you might end up like this guy…

And we all know things didn’t turn out so great for him. So stick with the sandwich method. It allows you to deliver feedback in a nice way that will help the writer see what needs work without sending them home sad and hungry.

How do you like to give and/or receive your feedback?