We all have our inner egos. Mine tends to rear its ugly head when I go on critique sites and browse through stories. I'm all too quick to think along these lines:
- Wow, ten commas in every sentence?
- If adverbs were sprinkles, I'd have five cavities by now.
- Did they just describe this character in textbook terms?
My inner thoughts sound like Mr. Snooty Bison: "Nice try, peon, but this is utter rubbish."
Though I don't turn these harsh thoughts into equally blunt critiques, I need to remind myself who's telling the story. I strive to gently provide the proper encouragement alongside the grittier areas, but still. Snide comments run through my head as if I've known how to write a complete sentence since I wriggled out of the dang birth canal. With a big head comes big reminders.
I started out every bit as green; everyone starts somewhere.
Guided by these facts, I trudge through critiques to both point out areas where an author can improve, and also praise what they do well. Too many people focus only on "flaws." The funny thing about flaws is that they too (proofing errors aside) are super subjective. While I may glaze over at how an author over-described a character or scene, someone else may be able to picture that moment vividly and love the story all the more because of it.
Again, not good or bad. Not necessarily "flawed." Just subjective.
But I don't want to lose sight of where I began. When it comes to writing, I'm a perpetual student. I've turned my former weaknesses (adverb usage, passive voice, and tense slips) into stronger prose. This change didn't happen on its own—or overnight. Critique partners, articles, agent panels, and reading books on writing all helped me hone my craft. It will continue to shift as I grow as a writer and a person.
I still sometimes get a dose of harsh reality. The sting of the "outside eye" persists. In a perfect world, I could take the most cynical, tactless critiques without flinching. Even when I can tell someone is just nitpicking to the point of discourtesy, I start to wonder.
Have I lost my touch? What if they're right? Maybe I should just quit.
These negative thoughts contradict my own growth. While their impact is temporary, the feelings behind them are real. No one is immune to self-doubt, but the less I allow my ego to take over, the more I can dwell in humility. The proper response to harsh criticism is thanking the reader for their time and remembering that not every story vibes with every person.
That, and some people are just downright mean, hah. Jealousy and retaliation are huge driving forces.
I've had critique partners give me mostly negative feedback on a piece of writing. Then, once I've delivered my encouraging but lengthy feedback on their work, the meanness shoots to the sky. "If you don't like my writing, I'll tear you down, too." What once was, "I'm having trouble connecting with this character" becomes "Ugh, I can't stand the protagonist at all, so reading this is a waste of time."
These are the kinds of unhelpful comments that can break an author. There's no reason to tear someone down to this level, and I refuse to do it myself.
But this is also part of the critiquing process: learning to identify valid feedback.
Something like—"This character reacted differently to a similar situation in the past chapter, so I don't understand their actions here. See if you can clarify."—is a valid critique.
This—"Your character is boring/unrelatable/awful."—is just mean.
As I respectfully critique and help other authors grow their craft, I'll continue learning how to deliver feedback in a more positive way myself. My battle with perfectionism persists, but I won't let it knock me down forever. Be kind to others, everyone. Creatives especially tend to be sensitive folks.
Keep on smilin'!
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