So, you've finished your novel. Now what? When the final chapter meets its end and the last period is dotted onto the page, what are you supposed to do? Where does a writer go when all the writing is done?
Brace yourself, bright eyed author, because it's time to show your work to the world. Sort of.
What you have bundled up in your word processor right now is not a finished novel. It's a completed draft. Whether you won NaNoWriMo or just finished a two year marathon of squeezing writing pockets into your busy days, the first time you lift your hands off the keyboard and whisper in awe, "It's done…" is not the moment you're finished. You have achieved something momentous and amazing, and you absolutely should pop open a bottle of champagne or sparkling cider and toast your success. But before you go releasing your creation onto the masses, it's going to need a severe analysis and a lot of plastic surgery.
It's time for constructive criticism.
The Bane of Creatives
Most newly budding creatives break out into hives at the mention of critique groups. The fear is understandable. To show your work to others is to rip open your ribs and let them poke at the organs inside. Up until now, you’ve been cloistered away in your writing room, literally or metaphorically, weaving and painting a masterpiece witnessed by your eyes alone. Your word processor has been a private space where you can play and create without wondering what anyone else will think of the mess, the plot holes, the awkward dialogue, or the clunky deus ex machinas. But, the moment you attach that .pdf file to a group email, it’s no longer a pet project. It’s out there, in the ether, asking to be seen, and suddenly every little clumsy error surges to the forefront of your mind and poisons your confidence. You start to wonder if your chapters are too short or if your story arc is too cliche, if your antagonist isn’t threatening enough, if your characters are even likable, until it spirals out of control and you're questioning your entire story concept. All before anyone has ever even said a word to you.
It’s so easy to tear yourself apart as soon as you release that draft. It makes you think, ‘If I can see all these problems, the critics will see a thousand more.’ You can’t let yourself get caught up in this illusion. It’s no secret we’re all our worst critics. By definition, you are the most familiar with your work. You have spent the most time looking at it, know its inner workings, and thus are perfectly seated to see every place the manuscript fails to live up to the ideal version in your mind. But that ideal version has never really existed. The only thing your readers will ever see is the book in their hands and on their screens. The same goes for your critique group; while they may have a better understanding of the craft than your average reader, even they can’t read your mind or see the imagined masterpiece you’ve been comparing your work to.
That outside perspective is crucial to your book’s success. The feedback your critique group offers will tell you which of those ugly paragraphs you’ve been stressing over are actually dragging your story down, and which areas are just bothering you because they don’t look like your idealized fantasies. They can tell you where you failed to be descriptive enough, where the images in your mind didn’t make it to the page and thus were lost on anyone not living in your head. They’ll tell you what characters are likable to a broader audience, which chapters dragged and slowed the action down, what parts of the story were impossible to put down, and a thousand things only a reader coming blind to the story would see. It’s hard as the author to tell whether a surprise twist was effective. But your beta readers don’t know what to expect. They’ll be able to tell you if they saw it coming, or if it felt too far-fetched, and you will have to put your faith in them.
So don’t be scared of the critique group. They are here to help you and to improve your manuscript. If you want your book to be any good, you need a few trusted folks to tell you which parts are bad and need fixing. There is no shame in getting criticism. Nothing is ever created perfect from the onset. The writing process is exactly as it sounds — a process — and it doesn’t end when the first draft is done. But, with that said, all the critique in the world won’t help you if you don’t know how to use it.
Constructive Criticism vs. Verbal Abuse
There are two kinds of criticism: constructive criticism, and unconstructive criticism. When your high school bully tells you to give up on making the cheer team because you’re not pretty enough to be a cheerleader, this is unconstructive criticism. It doesn't help anyone achieve different results and it doesn’t point out a problem that can be solved. “I don’t like you,” is unconstructive criticism. “I don’t like you because I think you’re stupid,” is also unconstructive criticism. Just because there is a ‘reason’ given, doesn't mean it’s useful. That may sound obvious now, but when you get to your peer review and someone says, “I feel like your heroine is unlikable because she’s an idiot,” it’ll be easy to stress and think your characterization is the problem.
Unfortunately, there will be times when you find yourself with a critique partner who is more interested in tearing other people down than helping you build something better. Knowing the difference between constructive and unconstructive criticism will allow you to judge whose opinions are worth listening to, and when it’s time to find a new beta reader.
Once you’re sure your critique teams are actually interested in helping you, it’s time to get to the nitty gritty. But as anyone who has ever gotten a tetanus shot knows, just because something is good for you doesn’t mean it won’t hurt. Even when we know that our story has flaws, it can still feel like a criticism of us when our critique group points them out. Remind yourself that you are more than your work, and that this is a draft. It isn’t supposed to be perfect yet. If it were, you wouldn’t be here.
The Art of Shutting Up
Check your ego at the door. Come to critique group meetings with an open mind and a notepad, ready to write down everyone’s feedback. When it’s time for everyone to go over your story, you may feel tempted to join the conversation. Don’t. Instead, try to understand why you feel that urge to speak up and see what you can learn from it.
Are you trying to correct someone on misinformation? If most of your readers have the wrong understanding of what happened in the chapter, it means your prose is somehow misleading them. Now you know you need to clarify that part of the story. If you’re trying to defend a word choice, consider why that turn of phrase resonates with you, and why isn’t that feeling evoked in your readers. Perhaps there is a different phrase you can use that will bring you both to the same page.
What you need to understand is you can’t listen to everyone’s feedback if you’re too busy talking over them, and the more you argue the less your reviewers will want to speak up.
When to Own Up and Take Charge
A key thing to remember is you don’t have to follow every suggestion. During the critique, write down everything that’s said, taking note of sections you feel were misunderstood or changes you felt inspired to make. Circle your favorite suggestion, make notes of when everyone agreed and when there was a clear divide in opinions. Put a big X next to suggestions you hate. Use the critique session to gather as much information and opinion as you can. Then, take it home and decide what you want to do with it.
In the end, it’s your story, and you know it best. Even if everyone at the table hated the way you killed off your antagonist, if you feel it is crucial he dies just so, don’t change it. Consider instead why your audience didn’t like it, asking yourself if you wanted them to feel a different way when they read his last words and whether you failed to build up expectations to lead them there. Edit other parts of your manuscript to better frame that critical death. You can, and should, find ways to make use of the critique session to help your story take full shape, even if it means using that constructive criticism as a springboard to inspire new directions for the prose. That’s what constructive criticism is for: building on.
What does your peer review process look like? How do you incorporate constructive criticism into your second drafts? Let’s talk shop in the comments below!
And, if you’re interested in live updates as I enter the editing phase of my first novel, be sure to sign up for my newsletter at the bottom of this page. Twice a month I send out behind the scenes looks at my editing process, the world building and lore that went into creating a fantasy series, inspiration resources, and plenty of fairy and cottagecore surprises too. This week I’m diving into the ways alpha readers influenced my story for the better, and how protagonists are born. You won’t want to miss it.
Stay warm, writers. Good luck to those trying to win the NaNo!
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