This book takes you on an adventure through the world of writing. You’ll explore different forms and genres while learning practical writing techniques. You’ll also get plenty of writing experience and ideas for publishable projects.
Each chapter focuses on a different form or writing concept: freewriting, journaling, memoirs, fiction, storytelling, form poetry, free verse, characters, dialogue, creativity, and writing articles and blogs are all covered.
Today, we’ll take a peek at “Chapter Three: People and Characters” with an exercise called “Your Gang.” Enjoy!
Your Gang
Writing about one or two people in a story or piece of nonfiction isn’t too hard. Even a scene with three or four characters can be well executed by a beginning writer. When you start approaching casts and ensembles with seven, eight, nine primary characters, you risk turning your story into a riot. Everybody gets out of control.
Ensemble stories in fiction tend to be epics; they span long periods of time (sometimes several generations). Often in these stories, there are many main characters but only a few are in focus at any given time. You’re more likely to find a good ensemble on television or in a movie than in a novel. But in all mediums, there are great stories about groups and families.
Writing a true ensemble piece requires considerable mastery in writing. As the author, you have to constantly keep all your characters in play, rotating them and managing their complex personalities. You can’t forget about any of your characters and you can’t let any of them hog the spotlight. It’s a balancing act.
The Exercise
Choose an existing ensemble from a book, movie, or TV show and write a long scene or a short story featuring all of the characters. Don’t retell some story about the characters from the source material. Take the existing characters and make up your own story or scene for them.
As an added challenge, relocate the characters to a different setting. For example, take the cast from a book and put them in the setting of a movie.
The minimum number of characters you should work with for this exercise is six. Aim for eight.
Tips: You can write big scenes with all characters present. You can also put the characters in different locations and write a series of scenes that take place in these various locations. One example would be a huge family gathering for a holiday weekend. The characters will disperse to different rooms. You have to move through the house showing the reader what everyone is doing, and it all has to tie together in a meaningful way.
Variations: Come up with your own ensemble. Write a series of short character sketches and establish a setting in which these characters would be thrown together. They could be family, coworkers, passengers on a subway, or students in a classroom. You can also attempt this exercise with real people and write either a scene from a real-life experience or make up a scene featuring your friends and family (a holiday gathering, school field trip, or work meeting). Make sure you give all the characters equal weight. Remember, it’s an ensemble.
Applications: If you can write an ensemble scene, you might be suited for television writing!
Accomplished poet, Taylor Mali, on proofreading and editing
He’s one of the most successful poets in the world. In fact, Taylor Mali has accomplished what most people believe to be impossible – he’s a full-time poet.
Mali gained a following through his involvement with the poetry slam movement and catapulted himself into a successful career writing and performing poetry.
He also spent nine years working as a teacher. His experience in the classroom often provides subject matter for his poems:
“Mali is a vocal advocate of teachers and the nobility of teaching… He has performed and lectured for teachers all over the world, and has a goal of creating 1,000 new teachers through “poetry, persuasion, and perseverance.” — taylormali.com
If you’ve ever taken a writing course or studied creative writing, then you’ve probably heard the expression, “Show, don’t tell.” There are plenty of books and articles that expound the virtues of proofreading, which provide detailed explanations outlining the repercussions of failing to proofread your work. Instead of telling us to proofread — instead of telling us what happens when we don’t proofread — Taylor Mali simply shows us.
In “The The Impotence of Proofreading,” Taylor Mali embarks on a playful dance with words and sentences, demonstrating why it’s better to use your mind instead of spell-check to proofread your work.
Today, treat yourself to a roller-coaster ride through language, and see how Taylor Mali proves the importance of proofreading:
Mali has authored two books of poetry, The Last Time As We Are (Write Bloody Books 2009) and What Learning Leaves (Hanover 2002), plus a bunch of audiobooks featuring his poetry performances and a jam-packed YouTube channel and four spoken word CDs.
When I first came across writing advice that said “kill your darlings,” I thought it meant that we should kill off our favorite characters. That seemed ridiculous. I mean, there are situations in which a story calls for characters to die, but to make a sweeping rule that we should default to killing off our most beloved characters is pretty extreme.
Almost immediately, I realized it was so ridiculous that it couldn’t possibly be the intent of the statement, and I concluded that “kill your darlings” means that we should be willing and prepared to kill our favorite characters if the story calls for doing so. That’s solid advice, and I agree with it.
It’s all about being true to the story.
It’s not unusual for writers to form attachments to characters. Hopefully, readers will form attachments to them too. But we can also form attachments to scenes, chapters, and even words and sentences.
Some writing tips have more than one meaning. “Kill your darlings” isn’t just about being true to the story insofar as you’re willing to put your most beloved characters to death. What it means, in the broadest sense, is that we have to be willing to let go of any element of our writing that is not essential or at least beneficial to the story. Killing off characters is the most obvious way to “kill your darlings,” so let’s look at that first.
Kill Your Characters
Every so often, I read a story and think that either too many characters were unnecessarily killed off or certain characters should have been killed off because it wasn’t believable that nobody died.
Like many readers, I’m not a big fan of gratuitous violence. If the story calls for violence, then I’m fine with it, and I do think that literature needs to explore themes like violence because it’s a prevalent problem in our culture. But when violence is glamorized or when it’s inserted into a scene without having any relevance to the story, it annoys me. Gratuitous violence is often used to kill off characters and sometimes, it makes me feel like I’m being manipulated–like somebody wants me to be sad about a character’s death so I’ll forge a deeper emotional connection to the story. If it’s all done without relevance to the story or in a way that is unbelievable, it has the opposite effect. It kills my connection with the story because the story becomes formulaic in a bad way.
The same is true for when characters die by means other than violence. If I feel like the author is just having fun killing off characters to get a rise out of me, I get irritated and find something else to read.
Having said that, death is universal. Everybody dies eventually, so I think death is an important topic to explore in fiction. Stories that deal with death well resonate with me and do deepen my emotional connection to a story. When I’m reading a war story where bullets are flying and bombs are blazing and the five main characters, all of whom are fighting on the front line, manage to survive with a few minor injuries, I find it unbelievable. A story like that calls for the death of a darling because that’s the truth of the story.
Killing Scenes and Chapters
But let’s get away from killing off characters because “kill your darlings” goes beyond characters.
We all have scenes and chapters that we love. For whatever reasons, certain scenes resonate with us and as writers, we’re proud of them. If we realize that a favorite scene is not moving the story forward or doing anything for the story whatsoever, we have to contemplate cutting it. We might try to revise it and work something important into it so we can save it, but some scenes can’t be resuscitated. They must be cut in order to maintain the integrity of the manuscript.
And that’s another way that we may have to kill our darlings–by snipping or radically revising entire scenes and chapters that we feel represent some of our best work. It’s unfortunate. It’s a bummer. And it hurts to highlight huge swaths of text that we labored over and loved, and then press the delete button. But if these scenes are weakening the story, they’ve got to go.
Putting Story First
I believe that in fiction, the story has to come first. In an essay, the thesis or concept has to come first. In a poem, we have a little more wiggle room, but even then, the intent of the poem has to come first.
When I cut 40,000 words of a manuscript, I felt relieved and unburdened. I had to let go of some good stuff–characters, scenes, chapters, words, and sentences that represented some of my best work. A little of everything got cut. I wasn’t happy about it but I knew that it would make the story one hundred percent better. I also knew that I could save that material and reuse it if the opportunity ever arises.
It’s hard to let go. It’s especially hard to let go of something we’re proud of, something we’re attached to, worked hard on, or something we love. That’s the lesson of death–when death occurs in fiction and is carried out well, in a meaningful way, it’s almost always about letting go. That’s something everyone has to do, not just writers.
We writers have to learn to let go of our darlings. Whether they are characters, scenes, or sentences, we have to expunge pieces of our work that we admire because they do not speak truth to the story we’re trying to tell.
Have you ever killed off a favorite character, eliminated a great scene, or deleted a snazzy sentence? Was it hard? Did you save it? Share your thoughts and experiences with killing your darlings or share some of your favorite writing tips by leaving a comment.
Good grammar is an essential component of good writing.
Grammatically correct texts are easier to read, easier to sell, and in many cases, a firm understanding of grammar can make the writing process easier.
But for many writers, grammar is secondary. They’re in it for creative expression–they focus on telling a story, making a statement, or sharing ideas. To them, grammar is just a necessary nuisance.
Too many writers avoid truly learning grammar because they prefer to focus on the creative aspects of their writing. Some of these writers work under the assumption that grammar is unimportant (they are wrong!) while others rely on editors and proofreaders to do the dirty work.
But developing good grammar habits, while painstaking, enriches the writing experience for everyone involved–from the writer to the editor to the reader.
Benefits of Good Grammar
If you’ve ever read a piece of writing that was peppered with typos and grammar mistakes, you know how frustrating these oversights are for a reader. They’re like bumps in the road, jarring the reader out of the text. When you’re deeply immersed in a story or article and hit one of these mistakes, you’re pulled out of the reading experience completely.
Editors, agents, and publishers know that mistakes happen. Typos happen too. They also know that the most polished work has been professionally proofread, so they may overlook a few, minor mistakes. But when these publishing professionals receive submissions that are so weighted with grammar mistakes that the text is difficult to read, the chances of them accepting the material decreases drastically.
Writers also gain great benefits from developing good grammar habits. Have you ever been writing and gotten stuck on some technicality: Should I put a comma here? Am I using this word correctly? How would this be best formatted? If you’ve learned grammar and are using a style guide, eventually these kinds of questions won’t interrupt the flow of your writing.
Good Grammar Habits
There are three key steps in acquiring good grammar habits:
Build an arsenal of resources: grammar and style guides.
When you’re not sure about something, look it up and learn it.
Apply what you’ve learned by incorporating it into future drafts and compositions.
Every writer needs a few solid writing resources. Even the most experienced and knowledgeable writers and editors have to look up answers to grammatical questions that arise from time to time. At the very least, you should have a solid grammar reference and a decent style guide (be aware that different publications and industries have specific style guide requirements).
Every time you look up the answer to a grammar question, you expand your knowledge about language and your writing skills grow. For example, if you’re polishing a short story and are not sure you’ve formatted the dialogue properly, you can look it up to verify how formatting should be treated. A few weeks later, when you run into the same issue in another writing project, you know the right way to format the dialogue, so you don’t get hung up.
Working Toward Good Grammar
Most writers like to rush through early drafts to get ideas down. There’s nothing wrong with that. But too many writers also fail to adequately clean up their drafts before sharing them. Whether issuing for submission, sharing with a writing group, or publishing on a blog, it’s essential that writers fix their mistakes and polish their prose.
Not only does this lead to clear and accessible work, it also speaks to a writer’s professionalism and dedication to the craft. Sure, it can be a hassle to stop in the middle of writing or editing to consult your writing reference books, but it’s well worth the effort since each time you do so, you strengthen your skills and ultimately, the quality of your work improves.
Good Grammar
Language is a complex beast, and it can take a lifetime to truly master grammar. The rules are many and there are myriad questions that will arise as you write. But if you have a few, handy grammar and style resources and take the time to look up questions as they occur to you, you will slowly master the language and all the nuances of its mechanics. It’s simple: develop good grammar habits and you will also develop better writing skills.
We usually understand a journal to be a place for writing about ourselves, but journals can be used for plenty of other purposes, many of which are especially useful to writers.
I’ve had my share of adventures in journal writing. As a teen, I kept a diary. Later, I had a poetry journal. I tried dream journaling, art journaling, and sometimes I keep a gratitude journal.
I believe journal writing is a huge boon to writers, especially when we’re not working on a specific project or when we’re looking for our next big project.
Today, I’d like to share a few of my favorite journal writing tools and resources.
A Place to Create
It’s been said a million times: If you want to be a writer, you have to write. I would add that if you want to be creative, you have to create. Sitting around and waiting for a big, blockbuster idea won’t do you any good. You’ve got to practice. And keeping a journal is a great way to practice writing and foster creativity every single day.
What I love best about my journal is that there are no rules. It’s my own little creative space. I use it for freewriting, sketching, and writing down my thoughts. I don’t write in my journal every day, but before I started blogging and writing professionally, I was pretty diligent about using my journal for routine writing practice.
I’ve been poking around the web in search of some of the best tools and resources for journaling with an emphasis on creativity and writing. Here’s what I found:
Moleskine Journals
Moleskines are the most popular notebooks for writers and artists. They come in various sizes ranging from pocket-sized to 8 x 10 (inches) and with various paper, including blank or lined pages, thick paper, or regular note paper. There’s a pocket in the back, a placeholder ribbon, and a strap that keeps the journal closed. Moleskines were popular with Vincent van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, and Ernest Hemingway, so they’ve got solid endorsement. I’ve had one for several years but only recently started using it and discovered that I absolutely love it.
The Artist’s Way
This classic book for writers and artists is well known for giving us “morning pages” and inspiring writers, artists, and other creatives to create on a daily basis. The Artist’s Way has become a staple among all kinds of artists from filmmakers to crafters. You’re sure to find something to help you establish a writing routine, improve your writing skills, or overcome writer’s block in this book, which includes a 12-week program packed with activities and exercises that you can do.
Paper Mate Profile Pens
I’ve never been into fancy, expensive pens. Frankly, I go through far too many pens to spend a lot of money on them and we all know how easily pens get lost. I also like to have a range of colors at my disposal. I’ll use a color that matches my mood, or I’ll use colors to create outlines and mind maps that are color coded and easy to navigate. These Paper Mate Profile Pens are the best! They write smoothly, have a nice grip, and are affordable. Plus, you can buy them singly or in a package of assorted colors. They’re also great for doodling and sketching in the margins!
Day One Journal App
One of the great things about technology for writers is that it provides a simple way to create, organize, and store your work. Gone are the days when we filled notebooks with novels and then transcribed them on typewriters. New technology is just as useful for journaling and keeping notes. Day One is a journal app available for the Mac, iPhone, and iPad. It’s one of the most popular journal apps with features that include password lock, calendar view, photos, inspirational messages, plus it syncs with iCloud and Dropbox.
Wreck This Journal
Wreck This Journal unleashes your inner artist and allows you to be creative without fear of failure because the journal is designed to be wrecked. It’s a great way to get your creativity out of the box. As you work your way through the journal, you’ll cut, tear, and thrash the book. You start letting go of constraints and inhibitions, allowing yourself to make mistakes and create poorly crafted prose, giving your creativity the courage it needs to take risks.
A Few More Goodies
Managed by a team of journal guides, Journal in a Box features a blog about journaling, home courses on journaling, and a line of journals that you can buy.
Here at Writing Forward, we’ve talked a lot about writing groups, but did you know there are also journal groups? (I didn’t!)
Before Moleskine, this was my favorite journal: The Watson-Guptill Sketchbook. I’ve been using these for well over a decade and they house my most precious journal writing material (freewrites, poems, reflective journals, drawings). They come in various sizes and colors, have hard covers and blank pages.
Last but not least, this lovely little video explains the art of journaling and the freedom that a journal brings:
People use journals for a variety of purposes — for self-improvement, personal reflection, heritage preservation, creativity, tracking professional progress, and writing practice. Do you keep a journal or use a notebook? How has journal writing helped you? Got any journaling tips or resources to add to this list? Leave a comment, and keep journaling!
“The idea is to write it so that people hear it and it slides through the brain and goes straight to the heart.” – Maya Angelou
We’ve all read books, articles, and poems that we completely forgot about once we were done. But some written works linger. They haunt us or stimulate our thoughts. They provoke our emotions.
That kind of writing is special.
When you create an emotional connection between your writing and your readers, there’s a lasting impression.
The first book that had that kind of impact on me was Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White, and the first poem that evoked that kind of response in me was “Phenomenal Woman” by Maya Angelou.
Those two works, along with dozens of others, became threads in the tapestry of my world. That’s the power of writing that goes straight to the heart. It affects people, influences them, and shapes their lives.
Maybe your readers will enjoy your work but get back to their lives as soon as they’ve closed the cover on your story. Or maybe you’ll make a difference. Maybe you’ll change lives and make some small (or great) change in the world.
Sometimes when we sit down to write, the muse is in full effect and the words pour forth effortlessly. Other times we sit there staring at a blank screen, waiting for creativity to manifest. We wait and we wait.
Then, we wait some more.
Writer’s block is the state of being uninspired, but it’s just a state of mind, and that can be changed at will, which is a good thing, because when it comes to creative writing, state of mind is pretty important.
Years ago, when I used to draw and paint, I often listened to a particular mix of music. It was ideal background audio for making art, very inspiring. As a result, every time I hear the music from my art playlist, I get an urge to pull out my watercolor pencils and sketchbook because I have built a psychological association between a certain kind of music and a creative activity.
Can you see where I’m going with this? Just imagine how this concept can be applied to creative writing.
Creative Writing with a Talisman
“Talisman: anything whose presence exercises a remarkable or powerful influence on human feelings or actions.” (Dictionary.com)
In a sense, a talisman can be used to program your muse to come out and get to work–on cue. Imagine having the ability to command your own creativity, to sit down and engage in your writerly work and automatically trigger inspiration.
Here’s how it works:
Choose your creative writing talisman: It could be a hat or a piece of jewelry. It might be something that sits on your desk, like a picture or a statuette. It can even be a CD or playlist (classical and jazz are great for writing). Choose a talisman that you won’t use in any other capacity except for your creative writing sessions, and make sure it’s not something that will distract you from the task at hand. Also, pick something you can store easily, but which is also accessible. Things that fit in your desk drawer or pocket are ideal. Also, try to find something that already makes you feel inspired.
Charge your talisman: Don’t start using your talisman until your muse is in high gear. You should have it ready for when creativity strikes and when it does, pull out your talisman and focus on it for a few minutes as ideas bounce around in your head. Leave it out as you work on your creative writing during those times when you’re feeling extremely inspired.
Believe in your talisman: If you believe in magic, you might say that you’re infusing the talisman with your creative writing energy. A more scientific explanation would be that you’re training your mind to associate the object with creativity, so whenever you engage the talisman, that creative energy is triggered again. You’re programming yourself.
Use your talisman: Once your talisman starts putting out an inspirational vibe, use it whenever you’re stuck with your creative writing. You’ll know it’s ready because you’ll get the urge to write every time you look at your talisman.
Keep your talisman charged: Even if months down the road, you’re feeling giddy with creativity and you don’t feel like you need it, take out the talisman. This will help keep it charged and maintain the psychological association between the talisman and your creative writing.
Do you have a creative writing talisman or some other ritual that you perform before, during, or after your writing sessions? Tell us about it in the comments, and keep writing!
Please welcome David Corbett, author of The Art of Character, with a guest post that explores common problems with protagonists in fiction writing.
Catch them in an unguarded moment and many writers will confess that villains and secondary characters are much easier to write than protagonists.
One sees the problem in not a few books, some famous. Why are so many heroes—from Gulliver to Candide to Oliver Twist—the blandest character in the story?
The Protagonist as Vessel of Virtue, or the Myth of the Likable Hero
One common problem is the protagonist who plods through the story glowing with virtue like a night-light—and generating just as little heat.
This is particularly the case when the opponent is driving the action, creating the circumstances compelling the protagonist to (merely) react.
Deprive the protagonist the right not just to defend himself but to go on the attack, and all you have is a noble victim—the heir to Everyman in medieval morality plays—perhaps the least interesting character known to humanity.
The inclination to confine protagonists in a cocoon of virtue often results from the fatuous demand that they be likable. It is true that in a novel you are asking the reader to spend a great deal of time with a character, and no one wants to spend hours with an annoying, wheedling, sniveling pisspot. But neither do readers want to waste their time with a boy scout’s shadow.
It is far more important that we be able to empathize with a character than that we like him—and empathy arises from a sense of shared humanity, warts and all, not virtue.
Comprehending the Stakes, Summoning the Will
Lackluster protagonists also often result from the writer’s failure to properly understand the stakes—what the character wants, why, and what he’s willing to risk to get it.
Whatever the protagonist wants, even if at first he doesn’t know what it is, he must come to want it with his whole body and soul, so that losing it will be tantamount to death. The stakes must at some point become palpable, real, and ultimate, so that the will is irrevocably and completely engaged.
Understanding the Interconnection Between the Outer Goal and the Inner Need
Whatever the hero is trying to achieve in the outer world—capture the murderer, win the beloved, return home—the goal and the effort to achieve it speak to some inner yearning, limitation, or flaw that the character often does not even recognize until the events within the story—specifically, the conflicts endured to achieve the outer goal—reveal it.
This relationship is the machine that creates the protagonist’s reservoir of will to prevail as the conflict intensifies and the stakes escalate—otherwise, at some point the protagonist will just say to heck with it.
David Corbett is the author of The Art of Character.
When the Protagonist’s Struggle is Fundamentally Internal
In stories centered on the protagonist’s battle to overcome guilt, fear of intimacy (as in many modern love stories), addiction, or even madness, there may not be an opponent per se. The role of opponent is embodied in the protagonist.
To dramatize the conflict, it’s useful to see that a choice lies at the heart of the character’s problem.
In the classic 1968 film Midnight Cowboy, what Joe Buck wants is intimacy, but abandonment and betrayal have created a profound mistrust of others. And so he has assumed the role of hustler to protect himself from the pain he associates with desire and closeness.
Joe’s dilemma creates a choice: to open himself to pain or not. And each option of that choice is embodied in a character: If Joe chooses to remain closed to suffering and hold on to his hustler mask, he can spend his life with women such as the affluent Shirley, who would pay him for sex and even enjoy his company, but never be a true companion; or he can open himself to pain and loss to care for his dying friend, Ratso.
When the Protagonist Faces a Problem, an Enigma, or a Disaster Rather than an Opponent
This is similar to the foregoing problem, but here the protagonist faces neither an opponent nor an internal struggle but an intractable situation or problem.
It’s one of the oldest story forms in existence, and examples range from The Odyssey and Jude the Obscure to The Time Machine and The Metamorphosis, to name a scant few.
The problem the character faces is not just difficult but seemingly unsolvable—so unsolvable it’s easy for the writer to get stuck, spinning wheels in the sand of speculation. Or else the hero gets lost in the specifics of various episodic problems, battling “situational opponents,” all of which can make the story seem like “one damn thing after another.”
The solution lies again in seeing the question at the heart of the protagonist’s dilemma.
In Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, for example, the father grapples with how to retain human decency in the midst of a living nightmare.
It’s that question—Will my son and I remain recognizably human if we manage to survive this disaster?—that defines the conflict, not just the brutalized landscape or the cannibals and brigands who inhabit it.
The Protagonist Who Doesn’t Know or is Confused by What He Wants, or is Afraid to Want It
In truth, this is less a problem in conception than execution. A great many compelling characters begin their stories being unclear, confused, or fearful of what they want.
Michael Corleone in The Godfather begins the story by distancing himself from his family. But as the threat to his father, then the deaths of his brother Sonny and his Sicilian bride, make it clear that the family’s enemies intend to destroy everyone he loves, Michael transforms not just into a family loyalist but its leader.
The same can be said for Rick Blaine in Casablanca, Jake Gittes in Chinatown, and hundreds of others. In each case, the conflict of the story, by making the protagonist face repeated failure at achieving what he thinks he wants at the story’s outset, obliges the protagonist to reassess what he truly wants—even who he is.
When the Wrong Character Serves as Protagonist
In choosing which main character should serve as your protagonist, ask yourself who:
responds most deliberately to the incident that changes the world as it exists when the story begins;
feels the deepest impetus to action;
has the most at stake in the story;
arouses the deepest empathy in the reader or audience;
serves as the focus of the story’s moral premise;
changes the most profoundly within the story.
Whoever can shoulder the majority of those responsibilities deserves to be your hero—and reaching that decision wisely will often spare you many of the other problems addressed above.
David’s short fiction and poetry have appeared in numerous journals and anthologies. He has taught online and in classroom settings and at numerous writing conferences across the US. For more information, visit davidcorbett.com.
From 101 Creative Writing Exercises: You’re the Expert.
Here’s a creative writing exercise from 101 Creative Writing Exercises, a book that takes writers on an inspired journey through different forms and genres of writing while offering comprehensive writing techniques, practical experience, and ideas for publishable projects.
Each chapter focuses on a different form or concept: freewriting, journaling, fiction, poetry, creativity, and article writing are all covered.
Today, we’ll take a peek at “Chapter Ten: Article and Blog Writing” with an exercise called “You’re the Expert.” Enjoy!
You’re the Expert
You know a little bit about a lot of things, but there are a few things you know a lot about. And knowledge is power.
One of the traditional duties of a writer is to collect and redistribute knowledge and information. After all, writers are responsible for textbooks, instruction manuals, and reference collections, like encyclopedias.
The Internet has made this type of material more accessible than ever before. People no longer have to trudge down to the library or buy expensive sets of encyclopedias (which quickly become outdated) to research and learn. They just log in and look it up.
The Exercise
Choose something you know a lot about. In fact, choose the one thing you know the most about. It could a subject you studied in school. It could be a video game you’ve played for countless hours. It could be something simple, like the parts of speech in the English language, or it could be something complicated, like how photosynthesis works. Write an informative article explaining this thing to a layperson—someone with zero experience or knowledge about the topic.
Tips: Assume your reader is ignorant about the subject. If you’re doing a piece on photosynthesis, assume your reader doesn’t know what carbon dioxide is. If you’re doing a complex piece, break it down into simple steps and definitions.
Variations: If you’d rather not get into the nitty gritty about your subject matter, write a statement explaining your own expertise. Why are you qualified to write about photosynthesis?
Applications: Many writers have built careers around writing about what they know best or what they can research and explain to readers.
It seems like every writer wants someone to read his or her work and provide feedback so they can make their writing better.
Trouble is, many writers want nothing more than praise. When they hear that their writing could actually use some work, some writers freeze up. Others go through the feedback and argue it point by point. A few will even launch into a tirade of sobbing or screaming.
Critiques are designed to help writers, not to offend them or make them feel unworthy. But the human ego is a fragile and funny thing. Some folks simply can’t handle the notion that despite all their hard work, the project they’ve written is less than perfect.
As a writer, you have to decide whether you truly want to excel at your craft. If you do, then you need to put your ego aside and learn how to accept critiques graciously. If you can’t do that, there’s a good chance that your writing will never improve and your work will always be mediocre.
The Importance of Critiques
Critiques are not tools of torture. They are meant to help writers. If the critique is put together in a thoughtful and meaningful way, it should lift the writer’s spirits by pointing out strengths in the piece, but it should also raise some red flags by marking areas that need improvement.
Usually, critiques sting a little. That’s okay. Sometimes, you’ll get lucky and your suspicions about what is weak in your writing will only be confirmed. Other times, you’ll be surprised that the critic found weaknesses in parts of the work that you thought were the strongest.
With practice and by following the tips below, you’ll learn how to overcome your own ego, how to obtain a beneficial critique and evaluate it objectively, apply it to your writing smartly, and for all that, you’ll be a better writer.
Tips for Accepting Writing Critiques, and then Writing Better
Find someone who is well-read, tactful, honest, and knowledgeable about writing. If you can find a critic who possesses all these traits, then you have overcome the first hurdle.
Polish your work as much as you can before handing it over. Do not send a rough draft to someone who will be critiquing your work, otherwise much of the feedback you get may address problems you could have found and addressed yourself. The point of a critique is to step beyond your own perspective and abilities. Note: some writers use alpha readers who read the rough draft and then give feedback on the content, usually the story. This is not a critique in the traditional sense. It’s more for testing general ideas.
Don’t harass the person who is critiquing your work by calling them every day, especially if they’re doing you a favor. If you are working under any kind of deadline, plan accordingly.
If possible, do not review the critique in the presence of the person who prepared it. The best way to first review a critique is to set aside some time alone.
You may have an emotional reaction. Some of the feedback may make you angry or despondent. Know that this is normal and it will pass.
After you review the critique, let it sit for a day or two. In time, your emotions will subside and your intellect will take over. The reasonable part of your brain will step in and you’ll be able to absorb the feedback objectively.
Revisit the critique with an open mind. Try to treat your own writing as if it were not yours at all. As you review it, ask yourself how the suggestions provided can be applied and envision how they will make your work better.
Figure out what is objective and what is personal in the critique. Critics are human. Some of their findings may be technical, mistakes that you should definitely fix. Other findings will be highly subjective (this character is unlikable, this dialogue is unclear, etc.). You may have to make judgment calls to determine where the critic is inserting his or her personal tastes.
Decide what you’ll use and what you’ll discard. Remember that the critic is not in your head and may not see the big picture of your project.
Thank the critic. After all, he or she took the time to help you, and even if you didn’t like what they had to say or how they said it–even if the critique itself was weak–just be gracious, say thanks, and move on.
Revise. Now you can take the feedback you’ve received and apply it to your work. Edit and tweak the project based on the suggestions that you think will best benefit the piece.
Long-term applications: you can apply the feedback to future projects too. Take what you learned from this critique and use it when you’re working on your next project. In this way, your writing (not just a single project) will consistently improve.
In some cases, you may not have any control over who critiques your work. If it’s published, then anyone can assess it. If you’re taking a class or workshop, then peer-to-peer critiques may be required. In cases like these, it’s essential that you keep a cool head. Even if someone is unnecessarily harsh or rude in their (uninvited) delivery, respond tactfully and diplomatically.
If you can obtain useful critiques and apply the feedback to your work, your writing will dramatically improve. Critiques are one of the most effective and fastest tracks to making your writing better. But they won’t help you one bit if you can’t accept them graciously.
