If you critique other writers work, your own writing improves. Everyone knows that.
But can critiquing make you a better person?
In my experience, it can!
Photo by Viviana Calderón
Have you ever read a book that’s technically flawless and yet left a bad taste in your mouth? Was there something in the great content that you didn't enjoy but couldn’t put your finger on why?
Well chances are it’s not the writing. It’s you!
The back-and-forth dialogue you have with another reader when you critique can not only bring out the shortcomings in the author's novel, but also the shortcomings in yourself.
Books are mirrors: you only see in them what you already have inside you.
—Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind (Tweet this quote?)
Projecting Flaws Onto Fiction
The other day I read a beautifully written memoir set in a little visited location, full of down-trodden refugees anyone would want to empathize with. There was also a love story filled with sturm und drang? What was not to like?
The protagonist.
The main character, a brash twenty-eight year old who did what she felt and spoke what she thought was someone I would not have invited out to tea because it would simply have been terribly uncomfortable.
If this had been fiction, I wouldn’t have cared. I’d have gone right ahead with 5 stars and told everyone to read it. But this was a memoir, a true story. Judgments about the protagonist quickly became judgments about the author. “She doesn’t seem to like women particularly,” I said to myself, tsk-tsk’ing all the way.
Unfortunately, my focus on the protagonist's flaws caused me to miss a huge part of the sub-text of the book, which was about the tragedy of refugee women and the author’s empathy with those women.
How to Discover Blind Spots in Your Character
I was tempted to just put the book aside, to not write the critique. But that would have been unfair to the author’s work and to the reading community we all belong to.
What I did was send the review, with all my discomforts, to Karen Connelly—the now all-grown up author whose twenty-eight year old self I found intimidating.
As the world would have it, she surprisingly but graciously came back to me pointing out places in her work where she wasn’t being a “bitch” towards other women and highlighting that sub-theme of overlooked Burmese women. And no she wasn’t a harridan. But, she did point out that my discomfort with the protagonist was a personal reaction which didn’t necessarily have anything to do with the writing.
What, she asked, was it about myself that was causing my discomfort?
Three Life Lessons You Learn From Critiquing
This exchange taught me something about being a writer, a reviewer and a person:
1. Criticism Is Different Than Critque
A writer should always remember there’s a difference between people criticizing you and critiquing your work. If a critic doesn’t like you as a person, it doesn’t matter. Point them back, as calmly as possible, to your work.
2. If You Don't Like a Book, It May Be Your Own Fault
As a reviewer, it’s imperative that you understand why you are uncomfortable about a work. If you don’t know why, reach out to the author to ask.
3. Smart-Ass Twenty-Eight Year-Olds Are Scary
As for being a person? Well, obviously I’m intimidated by lusty, smart-ass twenty-eight year-olds. But I do love a good sentence and great writing. I shouldn’t mix one with the other.
What do you do when you’re conflicted about a book? Do you just throw it aside, “Naaahhhh, not my style?”
PRACTICE
For this week’s practice pick a book you don’t quite approve of and write a rant about it here in the comments section. Feel free to be as blunt as you need to be.
Then re-read it.
What happens to yourself as you read?
If the author’s alive, consider contacting them about your discomfort. Later, post what you learned—as a person, a reviewer, and a writer—and share your link in the comments section.
Have a great journey discovering yourself. Ciao!
“Critiquing as auto-therapy,” I know that one… it’s a psychological technique based on the notion that whatever I rant against is likely to be an aspect of myself that I despise or fear. I can’t imagine there’s going to be a lot of response to this post, not because it isn’t insightful, but because few people have the spiritual self confidence to jump into that reflecting pool. But congrats for bringing it up.
Thank you PJ. It does raise the question “Why read?” Mostly, we do it for enjoyment and escape. This will be one of those slow-burn posts where people have to overcome the fear, get a book they do not like, and then stare at their navels…. What about you? What has your experience with books that made you go “Naaaaa”? Waiting to hear.
Audrey… I’m careful about what books I start, so I don’t bail on many. I remember being regretful that I persevered through “Saturday” by Ian McEwan because I kept feeling the mass of detail was pointless. Who cares that the doorman had a mustache if we never see the doorman again. Too much detail becomes just a “mass of life”, as “War and Peace” has been described, which is a book I’ve never finished. As someone said of it recently, “The novel is a vast piece of ‘actuality’ rather than a form to be appreciated.” I guess I need a bit more linear development than some novels provide.
I had that same feeling about Saturday. Then, I reread it one chilly weekend in London when I was stuck inside with a cold. It became real and relevant then…. Interesting how my personal circumstances changed my reaction to the book.
This post made me think about my review of Incendiary, by Chris Cleave, a book which made me decidedly uncomfortable, as you know, Audrey. I strongly disliked his protagonist (I think that was his aim), and wanted to shake her and make her see reason throughout. But perhaps being pulled into the mind of an uneducated, lower-class mother and adulteress, who has OCD, likes to watch TV and drinks too much, as she slowly descends into madness makes me uncomfortable because we all have those pieces inside ourselves. You are definitely right. I don’t want to think that I could ever be that person, yet Cleave forces me to look at the world through her eyes, since he writes in her voice. I cannot ever put on that glove, because I don’t want to. I want to be the opposite: smart, easy-going, etc. I don’t want to imagine that the murder of my loved ones could unhinge me so totally.
You ask what I do when a book makes me uncomfortable. It depends. In this case, I finished it because I thought what Cleave was doing was worthwhile (and I had no other unread novels on my shelf :)). But there are times when I roll my eyes and put the book aside, Jane Austin’s novels being a case in point. I never have been able to finish any of them, because of all of the societal posturing. Maybe I should take a look at that. 😉
Ann, That’s an uncommon reaction to Jane Austen. It would be interesting. to hear what you come up with. I find the language a little long, but as an inveterate cowardly eaves dropper, so I love the social posturing. I especially love them if I’m at a conference with lots of strangers, or on a travel cruise with strangers. The parallels between then and now are amazing!
Jane Austen deserves a re-read. She uses that societal posturing in a very cutting sort of way to demonstrate the very serious women’s issues of her day. On the surface it might as fluff and vanity (I remember feeling that way when I tried reading P&P when I was 17) but when you dig deeper, it is worth the effort.
Audrey very good advice, we can improve our own writing by critiquing and learning about ourselves along the way. Some times it surprises me what I read and critique and what I actually enjoy when I give the book a chance.
What has been one book you gave a chance too Kath? Love to hear.
Absolutely brilliant post, Audrey. I really appreciated this, because one of the writer’s forums I belong to has started a thread, critiquing each other’s work. Your comments have brought to mind, my own feelings of repugnance at certain pieces of prose. I realize now, through reading this, that I personally have a problem with extreme violence depicted on the page, and also, I’m not particularly comfortable with erotic prose. I need to go back and say, ‘it wasn’t you, it was me’! 🙂
Yvette. I’m glad there was something for you to take away. I had a real problem with the subject matter of 50 shades. Then, I read it. And guess what, I had a real problem with the writing too. I’m glad I made myself read it all the way through. Now I can honestly say, “Well, what was the hype with that?” and defend myself both on grounds of content and craft
So, do I take it, that the mysterious-sounding ‘oddznns’ is you, Audrey? Just wondering… Yes, I’ve heard the same feedback, re 50. Enough feedback in fact, to stop me from reading it. I think I can live without that sort of imagery in my head, when it feels like a form of self-pollution.
Yup, oddznns. That’s me! It’s I? (Now, who wrote a post about that?) Disque doesn’t let me comment as Audrey so I’m oddznns here.
You are right about 50. A form of pollution. Sad really, that so many of us went and read it.
Audrey, thank you for this thought provoking piece on critiquing. Love your
request for vulnerability! I think most of us agree that critiquing other work
helps us become better writers – it really helps me understand and appreciate
the craft a lot more. In fact, I wish we’d be bolder here at pointing things out to
one another that could be improved or things that don’t work. Getting the
approval of a practice piece is comfort food, but when another writer points out ways I
might turn it into a banquet, I am thrilled.
For me, the main thing that makes me put a book down without finishing is
the writing. I love story and character driven novels. If there is poor
character development, inauthentic dialogue or so many characters I have to go
back and reread sections, I might put the book down after 50 pages in. I don’t
have to relate to the characters or even like them to finish a book, in
fact I’ve finished many where I disliked the main characters yet stayed with
the book because the writing was strong and/or the story riveting. “House of
Sand and Fog” is one of those books. The two main characters drove me nuts.
One was arrogant and ungrateful with a Texas sized chip on his shoulder and the
other was a ditzy, irresponsible woman who lied her way to finding people to
clean up her messes. And they didn’t grow or change in any way. Throughout the book, I didn’t care what happened to either
of them. But the story drove me to finishing. Was I satisfied with the ending?
Not really. Hard for me to be satisfied when I don’t care about the main
characters. But! I appreciated the writing and the fact that the author could
develop two characters I judged so strongly throughout the book.
Clearly most people who read this book did not feel the same way – the
book was an early Oprah book club pick and a National Book Award finalist. To
your point, Audrey, I agree most of us read with the eyes of our personal experience.
Thanks, again for this – really got me thinking…
You picked a great book to rant about Margaret. I didn’t read the book but went over to goodreads for a peek at the reviews. What a divergence of opinions. One that caught my attention was someone who didn’t expect to like the book but did… and all because she fell in love with the main character – the house! That says something about how we all react ao personally doesn’t it? It was great you could appreciate the writing in Sand and Fog. IBad writing is the killer for me too.
Haaa – whoever said that about the house was right and I’m a little bit jealous at how clever it is 🙂 I agree the house WAS the main character! So fun the hear that…
I recently read “The Way Of Kings”by Brandon Sanderson.Overall I pretty much liked the book.It was slow, but the world was built pretty well.Although, I have a few problems:
1)Sanderson’s books tend to try and dazzle the reader.Like, throwing a huge load of fantasy in one big heap. It’s confusing, and more often than not, discouraging.I gave up twice on the book midway before i really got interested.Also this kind of makes it boring the second time.
2)Mixing words to make new ones?
axehound?
chasmfiend?
batallionlord?
shardbearer?
gemheart?
These are a few.
I don’t think fantasy is about mashing words together.Better to create new words.This is an epic fantasy series, after all.
There are more,I cant remember though 😛
It’s okay not to like a book. Really. Different books are good for different people. You are also allowed to say you didn’t like a book. You are certainly allowed to say you didn’t like a protagonist! I depend on honest friends with similar tastes to help me decide how to use my reading time/money best. If they start hedging because they think they should like something they don’t like for whatever reason, I will find a different friend (or reviewer) to depend upon for book recommendations. Before the Internet, I bought and started many award-winning turkeys. The author got paid. The publisher, encouraged, put out more similar duds, and I know I’m not the only one who never read past page three before letting dust accumlate on the tops and finally dumping them into a bag for the Goodwill or library sale. Result? Novels were headed toward the Land of the Unread, home to literary poetry and other irrelevant arcana. Don’t second-guess or blame yourself. Tell the truth. Others will tell the truth about their experience. Readers are smart enough to recognize which opinion is likely to match their own current taste. (That is, of course, just my opinion.)
Indeed, its okay not to like a book. As I said, I really didn’t like 50.
50 is a given, but doesn’t sound as though House is worth my time either. (It has had plenty of acclaim Doesn’t need me to slog through it for success.) That is what I meant.Thanks for the honest heads-up. (Though you didn’t mean for me to come to this conclusion.)
Yup, different strokes for different folks.
I really enjoyed this post, especially the thought of it being okay to dislike a book AND reveal such through a review. I personally detest swear words, so when I find that a book of any kind is saturated with them, I stop reading. I haven’t felt inclined to leave any reviews for books that I rejected on that premise, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let an author know that his subject matter was interesting to me, just not his manner of deliverance. Every opinion counts for something, even if it’s only worth about two cents, right?
Jenna, I guess the question is whether those swear words served a purpose. Did they help to “show” the character better … or the situation they were in? As for two cents – We never know how much our opinion is worth. See my conversation with Margaret Terry below, where my little throwaway line about “the main character – the house” gave her an “ah-hah!” moment. Thanks for the comment. Every little bit helps to grow this writing community we’re part of.
Yes, I know what you mean about the swear words serving a purpose. I believe it’s more just a question of preference, rather than functionality, however. I could take any sentence composed of swear words and offer non-swearing alternatives that in my own mind would have been as effective, if not more so, and certainly less “offensive” (again, personal preference). I really appreciate everyone sharing their true opinions too though, so I’m really glad you all are helping me realize that true opinions, and all opinions, have a place :). Yay!
Same here.Whenever the four-letter words start piling up I know i) the. the story arc will be shaky, ii) the characters one-dimensional, and iii) I won’t finish reading the piece. A swear word here and there adds spice and fire, bot too many kill the whole dish.
approve.
Joe Bunting
joebunting.com
Love that … you’re talking about the craft and how it didn’t work for you. Great, I’m not going to read that then. I hate stuff where there’s too much thrown at me for no reason.
As Joe says, chuck out what doesn’t “move” the story.
practice and pratice is the best method to write well. if you don’t try to write every day, you can write well eventhough you have a good knowledge about the topic. that is my thinking, hope you give me advises
I was just thinking about the mixing of words to make up new ones just a few days ago. I was thinking of the now well-known word “Hippogriff”. I’m glad I read your comment, because I was thinking the best way to go was to mix words to come up with new names for beasts and creatures that I’ve made up! My names always seem so silly. My last one was a Hollux for a horse-snake like creature. Maybe I should’ve called it a Snorse! :p
trying to trust in life and the future brighter
Thanks for making me think about this, Audrey. I keep notes on what I’ve read and have a file called ‘Books I didn’t like.’ I just went back and read my notes and thankfully most of the time it’s the writing I don’t like. One critique was of Helen Simpson’s In-Flight Entertainment, which the cover said would be funny and which I found utterly depressing. But I did say, “One story which was particularly creepy, which I suppose makes it good, was…” so I am trying to recognize any emotion that a story evokes in me and analyzing that rather than blaming the story itself.
I agree with this point of view, maybe it will bring good results for us.
Critiquing Can Make You a Better Writer… and Person! true and i believe this thing
really! oh my god
really like this article