Caren Johnson Literary Agency

by Carrie Lofty

Criticism. Does any writer really enjoy criticism? Can’t say that I do, certainly not like I enjoy doughnuts and dancing. I have, however, fostered a keen appreciation of the helpful criticism I receive from my critique group.

I joined the Online Romance Writers Circle in September of 2006 after completing my first novel. Simply happy to have completed a manuscript, I posted my Austrian-set romance and waited for my haloed anointing.

Oooh, was I in for a s shock. I’d never shared my work with anyone. Ever. The impact of reading their comments knocked me off my chair. Because our group is entirely online, I wound up refusing to open e-mails after 6pm. Reading those initial critiques too close to bedtime meant a lot of sleepless hours.

Over time I identified my pattern, one that remains today: 1) Hot, flushed-face offense, 2) Ego shock, 3) She doesn’t know what she’s talking about, 4) Damn. She’s right.

Writers spend months and even years working on their projects—pressed too close against a lengthy rabble of words—which can lead to tunnel vision. I’ve learned that a good group is an extra batch of eyes and clever brains. Are there slow parts? A lack of emotion? Glaring, nova-sized plot holes? My beta readers find those story-stoppers before I pass them on to my agent or editor.

Stay focused on the goal. In offering up a raw, young work for critique, I’m not asking for gushing praise—that anointing that never came. I know better now. There will always be flaws and flubs and places where my work can be stronger. My initial flushed-face response still rears it’s head, but then I get back to work—and the end result is stronger.

But just because I’ve had success with a critique group doesn’t mean everyone will. Many successful authors work solo, though I don’t know how they do it! Others find the task of integrating multiple opinions only dilutes their voice—a sort of “too many cooks in the kitchen” feeling. Still others believe the added demand of offering critiques in return limits time they could spend writing.

I lucked into my group, and only now do I realize what a blessing their diversity and openness has been. If you’re looking to join one, I have a few pieces of advice.

1. Work with people you respect. Before you join up, read potential critique partners’ books or ask for unpublished samples. Submit a page or two of your own work to see what their feedback is like. Get a sense of whether they’ll be a good fit.

2. Avoid the drama. If a critique group is filled with backstabbing or grudges, it won’t be an honest place for your work. You want these partners to be on your side, to respect your work and your career, and to be fair.

3. Don’t narrow your focus. The romance writers in my group have almost all moved into new territory. Our varied reading habits, ages, educational backgrounds, publishing experiences, and approaches to writing guarantee at least a few different opinions to choose from.

4. Reciprocate. Sure it takes some time, but I’ve found critiquing informs my writing. If you can spot issues and weaknesses in someone else’s work, you’ll be better equipped to find them in your own.

5. Find the exit. There are lots of writers out there. If one group isn’t working for you, try another. Take the time to find the one that works for you.

So even thought I’ll never enjoy a thorough critique as much as I love to dance, I value all of the advice my partners have given me. Each one helps me tell a better story—and that I do enjoy.

In part two, I’ll discuss what you should expect from a good critique, as exemplified by Chicago North, a notoriously incisive “critique chapter” of the Romance Writers of America.

Carrie Lofty