Our Labor of Love: Feedback
COMPLIMENTING
If we’re lucky, a writer will capture a thought or feeling completely and they will serve it to us in a manner that resonates somewhere deep within. You know that feeling? It is like being drunk, what with the headiness and warmth that reading the perfect piece can induce. I get this feeling every time I read anything by Hemingway. I think to myself, “These words are so rich, they are a suitable substitute for food.”
Wouldn’t it be nice if we could tell the writer how much we... (like? love? are made happy by?) what they’ve written? Those three examples don’t really sum up the feeling that good writing evokes from our souls.
Now what? Move on and let our appreciation go unspoken? Fumble through a sloppy, poorly written, love letter to the writer? Despite our strong emotions and desire to tell the writer they’ve moved us, we have trouble finding the right language.
No longer! I am sharing with you the very simple strategy I use when commenting on another writer’s work that I enjoyed.
Try to avoid common phrases. Do not use words such as “like” on their own. “I liked your story,” while nice for a writer to hear, doesn’t convey what we’re really trying to say. Personally, I’m a fan of similes and metaphors. “Reading your story was like coming home.” Or, “This piece is the Taj Mahal of poetry.”
A really good comment that shows the reader’s love of whatever they’ve just read is a tiny work of art in itself. Have fun with it.
It can also be interesting to comment in the style of the piece I’ve just read. As the cliché says, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. After reading a novel like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, I would have killed to comment to Hunter S. Thompson, “It was a twisted journey that has ruined my life forever. Thank you.”
In the end, craft your comment as you would a one-line poem or story.
CRITIQUING
It is a situation we writers know well, especially those of us actively using the Prose. app. We see a piece of writing that is all right but in need of a little help. There is often the compulsion to leave a comment to help the writer out. We want to tell the writer we appreciate what they’ve created and how they might improve it.
Now, we’re left in the sticky position of trying to pick the right words. You wouldn’t think this is difficult for writers, words are our thing, but it can be a surprisingly toilsome task. We don’t want to offend the writer. We also do not want to sound like a know it all or just a run-of-the-mill jerk. This is the point where many of us say, “The hell with it,” move on to something else, and another easily improvable piece of writing goes unedited. This is an unfortunate situation and one that need not exist.
Empathy
When offering suggestions for improvement to a piece of writing, simply ask yourself, “How would I want this presented to me?” Empathy is the mortar holding together a solid foundation from which we can build a helpful and encouraging critique.
Honesty
If you notice a problem, or a potential problem, in a piece of writing, even when it seems trivial, let the writer know. As you well know, good input can be hard to find and the more thorough, the better. If the “problem” you found turns out to be intentional, no harm is done from having mentioned it.
There are two sides to the honesty coin. The first, as stated above, is making sure to mention all things. Do not lie by omission. The second is to not give unnecessary notes. I know these two ideas seem to share a grey area of, “Do I say anything?”
When I say to not give unnecessary notes, I am talking about the following:
“I don’t like (enter genre here).”
“Why did you write this?”
“This sucks.”
Rule of thumb: No snark.
Specifics
Comments like, “This sucks,” are absolutely and undeniably the most unhelpful waste of words one writer can tell another. Now, if you wanted to say, “Hey, Kendall. You used two adverbs in that last sentence. You sure you want to do that?” That’s okay. And yes, I’m sure.
It is difficult to give examples of exactly what to say because each piece of writing will be different. Also, there is no shame in not noticing every error. Play to your strengths. If you are a grammar Nazi (one of my favorite kind of people, because I am not one), point out grammatical errors. If spelling is your thing, concentrate on that. Maybe you are good at the intangibles of writing, like flow and voice. If these are your purview, give input (along with examples) of how the writer may improve.
Keep to what you know, be specific, and be friendly. If you do these things, your input will be valuable and well-received.
That’s it, fellow writers. As always, I hope you found something worthwhile in this post.
Happy reading,
Kendall Bailey
Image: Ralph Steadman, via Rolling Stone.
