I belonged to writing groups for many years when I started writing for real. Luckily, the groups contained skilled writers who were sensitive, insightful readers who wanted my fiction to succeed (they also contained folks who were less helpful, and one or two who I learned weren’t useful in the least).
The group fell apart a bunch of years ago, so I’ve been groupless since, but I still need feedback. I depend on willing friends who don’t necessarily have writing or workshop backgrounds. They want to help, but they don’t know where to start or what I need to hear. They need guidance.
I get useful reactions to the story if I suggest these responses:
First, did the story work for you? I want to know if the reader understood/liked the story. What did they like? This is a broad, global type of question. If the story doesn’t work for the reader for whatever reason, that will give me pause as a writer.
It could mean I chose the wrong reader for the piece. A friend of mine writes horror, really good, visceral, kick-butt horror. The kind of stories that could come with a trigger warning, so when my friend shares the piece, they know that for some readers, the stuff is out of their realm.
Not everyone can read romance or fantasy or domestic drama. It doesn’t work for them. That might not be a fault in the writing. But if the reader isn’t pushed away by the kind of fiction they’re reading while your piece doesn’t work for them, it could mean the story has crippling flaws.
The “did the story work for you?” question is the ground floor for critique. What worked and why, and what didn’t work and why are the follow-ups.
Second, did the story provoke anything for you? This is the “thoughts and/or emotions” question. How did the story impact you? Did you feel moved by it, and what did that? What has lingered from the story?
Third, what did you like most? What caught your eye? Were there specific moments, scenes, lines, and/or wordings that tickled you? Writers thrive on specific responses. Saying “I loved it immensely” is flattering, but it’s not helpful.
Fourth, did you not understand anything or feel confused by it? Where were those specific moments, scenes, lines, and/or wordings that tripped you up?
Next, did the story drag in places?
Was there any point in the story that felt rushed or that you really wanted to know more about?
What did you think about the characters?
Any other thoughts? This might be the place where an analytic reader might say what they thought the story was about, or what they thought they were supposed to get out of it. You never know what might come out of this question, but I listen carefully to those random observations.
Oh, and by the way, did you run across any obvious typos or miswordings? I don’t expect my first readers to proofread for me, but if they see something, I appreciate hearing about it.
You might notice that I don’t ask my reader for suggestions on how to improve the story. I don’t know who it was that said, “Anything a reader notices is a flaw, probably is right. Any way a reader suggests how to change it is probably wrong,” but in general, that strikes me as true. A reader might see a problem with a paragraph, and then suggest a way to improve it, but you realize the fault actually was in how the paragraph was set up. You have to rewrite something pages earlier to make the “flawed” section work. Also, I’ve had readers go to town at length about something in a story and then go through gyrations to suggest how to fix it. All I did was delete it. Problem solved.
When I share a draft, I’m hoping for meaningful feedback that will give me an outsider perspective on the story. The longer I can get them to talk about the story, and the more different ways they approach the story, the better.
Here’s an example. My wife is not a writer, but she’s a reader, and she’s been living with a writer for a long time. She read my latest piece and asked a basic question: Why did I have two policemen in the opening scene, whom I identified as the “man officer” and the “woman officer”? Later in the scene, I shortened it to “the man” and “the woman.” My wife said she stumbled when she read that. Why didn’t they have names?
I did the tiniest rewrite of the scene, giving them names, and it was way better.
If you’re concerned about your work’s effectiveness, you need reader response. If you hope for publication, you need reader response. And if you want to improve, you need reader response. A good reader who is willing to talk to you about your writing is invaluable.
A critique group can be great. Western Colorado Writers Forum has created critique groups in the past, as have other organizations. If you really want a face-to-face group, check with local writing organizations or the library. Also, online critique groups exist for several genres. Most require that you give critiques to get critiques.
But a group isn’t the only way to go.
You can cultivate critiquers, your alpha readers, and with some guidance and training, they can be the bedrock of your writing practice.
Find them. Teach them how to respond helpfully. Your writing will be glad you did.
James Van Pelt has been selling short fiction to many of the major venues since 1989. Recently he retired from teaching high school English after thirty-seven years in the classroom. He has been a finalist for the Nebula, the Theodore Sturgeon Memorial Award, Locus Awards, and Analog and Asimov’s Reader’s Choice awards. Years and years ago, he was a finalist for the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer. He still feels “new.” Fairwood Press recently released a huge, limited-edition, signed, and numbered collection of his work, THE BEST OF JAMES VAN PELT. He can be found online at his website or on Facebook.