Sunday, September 23, 2007

Taking the Sting Out of Criticism’s Bite

(This is a repeat, fleshed out and edited, of some earlier blogposts on the subject. I thought it would bear repeating as some writers have expressed an interest in seeing it again.)

Writers, unless they hide their work in a closet, under the bed, or locked away in journals where it will never be read, will encounter both praise and criticism. When I was a young mother, I told stories to my kids as my mom and sister had told them to me years before. I loved stories of the family traditions and the escapades of ancestors. I wrote them down and submitted them to children’s magazines. I had the unusual fortune of having the first four or five pieces I ever wrote accepted and published. When the next piece was met with a rejection, even though the rejection was accompanied by encouraging words, I let it rock my world, topple my fragile ego, and block my muse. I didn’t write again for publication for a dozen years. Thankfully, I’ve managed to develop a thicker skin.

I don’t think I’m the only writer who has allowed criticism and rejection to stifle their creativity. Why do we do this? I think it’s because writers are a special breed—one with extraordinarily acute vision, talent, and passion—and tender ego. From the writer’s pen flows, not mere words, but an outpouring of the soul, not wholly unlike the travail—and the joy—of giving birth to a child. Inherent in that exposure of our innermost thoughts and insights is vulnerability and defensiveness of our verbal creations.

Blessed is the writer who can emerge undaunted from the paralyzing blow of sharp criticism. Naturally, our tender hearts bleed from the onslaught of arrows shot at our work—our babies. Our tender ego takes the full force of those arrows and is wounded by their sting. If we never toughened our egos, we’d never write another word. And that would be a tragedy, for criticism is not only inevitable, it is valuable, it is not only valuable, it is crucial.

In the years I have been writing, I have learned how useful criticism can be. I seek it as I'm writing. But in order to avoid letting a rejection or negative review bring creativity to a halt, as I've done in the past, I've learned that I must get beyond the defensive feelings and look closely at the criticism, measure it thoughtfully against my purpose, apply what is constructive, discard all that isn’t, and move on to write again.

Criticism has made my writing better. I give a lot of credit for the popularity of my stories to my editor, writers group members, and other critics. They see things I miss. That doesn't mean they are always right. I must keep in mind that no one knows the characters, plot, and purpose as well as I. It’s important to keep my purpose, as well as my audience in mind and gauge suggestions and criticisms against it.

Monica Wood says in her book, The Pocket Muse that “every writer needs two critics, one who gives only praise and another who never ever lies.” I have found that there are other categories of critics a writer must identify and deal with as well.

The love-everything reader is nice to have, and I agree that the encouragement of family and friends who love everything I write goes a long way toward keeping a positive attitude.

The gently discerning listener is, I believe to be the most helpful. In my writers group, I have the support of people who never lie, but they tell the truth in the most gentle and supportive way, qualifying with an “I may be wrong,” so that it hardly feels like criticism at all.

The viewpoint of the blunt but honest stranger, who points out the flaws in my work, may be harder to take, but has sometimes affected improvements in my writing. But don’t confuse them with the next one.

Unfortunately a writer stands a large chance of encountering the nasty and adversarial critic—one who, for reasons we may never know—seems bent on tearing the writer and her work apart, apparently taking personal umbrage.

There is also the clueless critic, who, though he may harbor no malice, just doesn’t get it, but because of their own experiences, beliefs, or biases, finds fault where there is none.

It’s up to the writer to sort it all out. Not quite as easily said as done, especially when our tender egos get in the way of objectivity. It’s hard not to take criticism of our work as an attack on our personhood. Because we pour our souls into our work, we have a hard time separating ourselves from our creations. I remind myself in the face of criticism to tell myself, repeatedly, if necessary, that the critic isn’t saying “You're a horrible person and a terrible writer;” to look instead at what they are saying. (If they are attacking your personhood, the critic along with the critique should be summarily dismissed.)

Then I step away and let it jell for a while. It is much easier to be objective when I come back later to study the critique. Then I review what I know of the characters, the plot, the purpose, and direction of my story and then examine the criticisms and suggestions of the reviewer or editor with an open mind—to see whether they are valid or not. I use what supports and enhances, and disregard what doesn’t fit. Many blunders, long boring passages, and inconsistencies have been pared from my work thanks to the honest and thoughtful critics who care about my writing.

I have come to appreciate and rely on “critics” as I write my stories. It is far better to write and be criticized, than not to write at all—or to write in a closet and never let your words see the light of day, for how can that help the world?

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Book Review

Beth Hodder is very familiar with the Flathead National Forest and the Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex. She worked for the forest service for many years conducting plant surveys, planting trees, working on campsite rehabilitation and other related work. It was there that she met her husband who spent 13 years working at the Spotted Bear Ranger Station and living in the ranger's house at Shafer Meadows. She recently retired to pursue other interests which included writing her debut children's novel, "The Ghost of Shafer Meadows."

In this adventure for upper elementary and middle-grade children, 12-year-old Jessie Scott doesn't see how she can ever be happy about the family's move from New Mexico to a remote wilderness area in the Rocky Mountains of Montana. She will not only miss her friends, but television, cell phones, the internet, and even electricity, too. To her surprise, life at the forest service ranger station offers new and exciting adventures that soon connect her to the wild outdoors. Even the mysterious rumors about her new home being haunted—and a visiting apparition intrigue her more than they frighten her. When evidence of theft and vandalism invade her mountain paradise, Jessie and her dog, Oriole, play a part large in solving the mystery.

Author Hodder's first-hand experience and connection with the Montana wilderness is evident as she captures a strong sense of place and takes the reader on a vivid journey. Readers will feel as if they are there, an experience they will want to duplicate in real life. For more about the book and for ordering information visit Grizzly Ridge Publishing.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Foster reading habits by reading aloud to children

"If people want kids to read, they need to read to them." This comment by Clair on a previous post got me to asking, "How can we get more adults to read aloud to children?" A little research showed that there are programs across the country and around the world that foster reading by using volunteers to read to children, either one on one or to groups. The difficulty is in finding people who are willing to donate their time. Anyone who believes in the value of reading to children and who can eke out an our or two a week for this cause, can research your area for programs such as reading fairs, Friends of the Children's Library, Head Start, and Even Start, to name a few, or contact your local schools and library to find out if they have a volunteer reading program. I've read of some who partner retirees with children in a "grandparent" reading program. Both the child and the adult are benefited richly.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Reluctant Readers

A comment I received on yesterday's post got me to thinking again about what makes reluctant readers — and what it takes to transform them into avid readers. I believe Max Elliot Anderson has the right idea. I, too, was a reluctant reader by the time I was in elementary school. I especially remember 5th grade. I question why, for in my preschool days, I was introduced to books by an older sister and a mother who read to me. I loved it then. By the time I was in 4th grade, the assignment to turn in 5 book reports a year was more than I wanted to do. (Like Mr. Anderson says on his website, reading didn't get quite the emphasis then as it does now.) I failed to get the last one done and went to the end of the school year party in fear and trembling, sure that at any moment the teacher was going to single me out for punishment, telling me I could not progress to grade five until I completed the book report. She didn't, and I got by with reading and reporting on just four books that year, for in our limited eight-grade, one-room school library, I couldn't find a single book that interested me.

The inability to find books that were not boring was one factor. Another, I believe, was that I was a "tomboy" who would much rather be playing outdoors, riding horses — and one time a bull (a badly sprained arm ended that aspiration). At that time in my life, I wished I'd been born a boy, and my perception then was that boys didn't read books, they wrangled horses, herded cows, worked on cars, drove tractors, climbed trees and mountains, and performed daring feats like bull riding, jumping off of cliffs or buildings into snow drifts—all things I tried to do as well as or better than my older brother. So socialization, I believe, plays a big part in creating reluctant readers. This was brought home to me a couple of years ago when I showcasing books from my publishing company at a winter fair with a western theme. I engaged a young boy, probably 10 or 11 years old, as he eyed my books with interest as he walked by. I pushed forward one that was written especially with this age boy in mind—a humorous adventure, "Fergus, the Soccer-Playing Colt" by Dan Peterson. Before the boy could look at it or comment, his father came up behind him and said scornfully, as if I'd lost my mind, missing the obvious, "He doesn't read books; he's a boy!"

So getting kids to read for the sheer joy of reading is a huge challenge that may include educating parents of the importance and legitmacy of fostering reading at home. I think schools are doing a better job than they used to, at least from what I've seen, but the busier parents get, and they seem busier than ever in this fast paced 21st century, the easier it is to stick a child in front of a TV set or video game, as they meet demands on their own time. I was grew up before TV came into our house. Indoor entertainment on long winter nights included storytelling and reading books. How nice it would be to see this practice return.

Any suggestions, children's authors?

Monday, September 10, 2007

Interviewing childen's author, Mary Cunningham

Today I am interviewing Mary Cunningham, author of a series of children's fiction stories, for approximately the same age group for which I write—ages 8-14.

JANET: Mary, I am familiar with your Cynthia's Attic series, and I just visited your beautiful
website. I see that your ideas for your series came from a recurring dream and is based on your childhood friendship. What a gift your dreams were! Please tell me more about it. Are many of the elements of Cynthia's Attic directly from your dream?

MARY: Thanks for your kind words about my website, Janet. I'm glad you enjoyed your visit! As for my dream directly impacting Cynthia's Attic, the description of the attic is close to my memories as a child. The mystery staircase was very vivid in my original dream and plays a distinct role in The Missing Locket. I also rely heavily on family stories and family members (mine and Cynthia's). Also, the setting for the stories begins in my hometown in Southern Indiana.

JANET: I see that reading and the love of books was instilled in you by your father. How important do you think that is for a child?

MARY: Hugely important! My dad not only instilled a deep love of reading and the written word, I believe he is directly responsible for my vivid imagination. When we ran out of bedtime stories or books, he'd make one up. He never discouraged my love of fantasy and creativity. I had an imaginary friend, Jimmy, when I was a toddler and both my parents played along. My mother would set an extra place at the table for Jimmy, and my dad would always include my "friend" when we went for car rides...making sure Jimmy was safely in the back seat before the car door was shut.

JANET: My definition of "True Fiction" is fiction that reflects real-life, captures real human emotion, portrays natural reactions and consequences, and teaches important life-lessons in the context of exciting adventure stories. I have often said that it is possible for even scifi and fantasy/adventure novels to do these things. I know you don't classify your books this way, but do you think they meet most if not all of my criteria for true fiction?

MARY: Excellent question! Let's see...I've never classified Cynthia's Attic in the true fantasy genre, but more historical fiction with fantastical elements. Best friends, Cynthia and Gus, behave like any friends would. They fight sometimes, have totally different personalities, but are fiercely loyal to each other and to their families. Even though they travel back in time through a magic trunk, they still encounter many of the same problems and challenges that any twelve-year-old best friends would face.

JANET: What part of writing and being published brings you the greatest joy?

MARY: I love creating! I love writing a really cool sentence, paragraph, or chapter, and then reading it aloud. I also love the interaction with kids who have read the books. Seeing the excitement on their faces when they describe their favorite characters or sequences is priceless.

JANET: What is your main goal in writing these books?

MARY: I can't deny it. I'd love to be nationally recognized as a really good writer. To be validated by your peers is great. To be validated by your readers is phenomenal! I supposed my main goal is reaching out to young readers and capturing their parents and grandparents in the process.

JANET: Do you have any more books planned for the Cynthia's Attic series after the Curse of the Bayou?

MARY: My publisher Quake has requested a fourth book. Quite honestly, I don't have a complete storyline, yet. So Book Four is going to be a challenge. But, I don't think I'm quite ready to let go of Cynthia and Gus, so I'll probably meet the challenge.

JANET: In this modern, fast-paced world of technological, instant gratification, it seems that fewer kids are reading books, and fewer parents are reading with their kids. What do you think we as authors can do, other than creating fun-to-read books, to encourage reading in today's youth.

MARY: We can create young writers. I talk to so many 10-16 year-olds who are writing fantasy/fiction. I'd imagine that J. K. (Rowling) is, in a big way, responsible for spurring this interest. So, to answer your question, I believe that holding workshops for young writers and also creating book clubs are two ways to encourage reading and writing.

JANET: I think workshops for young writers is a great idea. What have you found so far to be the best venues for conducting these?

MARY: The best way I've found to set up workshops is through the Parks and Recreation department in your area. They are always looking for ideas. Also, libraries are very willing to conduct workshops for young and adult writers.

JANET: You have a very impressive line-up of events scheduled, Mary. I would like to encourage anyone who would like to hear you speak or get your books autographed to check out the
events page on your website.

Thank you, Mary, for taking time to chat with me.

MARY: Thanks, Janet, for the invitation. It's been a pleasure.

Friday, September 7, 2007

Separating our personhood from our work.

It is important to remember that the reviewer or editor is speaking of your work—not you. Even if he or she says "the author apparently.... " or "The author.... something else" it is not about you as a person. If they seem to be attacking you unfairly and without basis, you are dealing with the nasty, adversarial critic I spoke of yesterday—the critc with his or her own axe to grind which actually has nothing to do with you. Disregard it. It is your job to put feelings aside and sort through the criticism to find the gems.

To reiterate: remember these two crucial points:
1) You, the writer, must somehow separate yourself from what you have written.
2) The editor or reviewer is analyzing the work, not the writer as a person.

That may seem obvious, but it isn’t as easy as it sounds. When we pour heart and soul into our work, we may have a very hard time separating ourselves from our creations.

1) You may have to tell yourself repeatedly that your critics aren’t saying “You're a horrible person or a terrible writer. Look at what they are saying.”
2) (If that isn’t true, then the critic along with the critique should be summarily dismissed.) Dismiss personal attacks.
3) The next step is to let it jell for awhile, then come back and examine it objectively.
4) Rely on your judgment. Remember, you know the characters, the plot, and the purpose and direction of your story better than anyone else.
5) Keeping that in mind, examine the criticisms and suggestions of the reviewer or editor with an open mind to see whether they are valid or not.
6) Use what you need, lose the rest. Employ what it supports and enhances, and disregard what doesn’t fit. Many blunders, long boring passages, and inconsistencies have been pared from my work thanks to the honest and thoughtful critics who care about my writing.

I have come to appreciate and rely on “critics” as I write my stories. It is far better to write and be criticized, than not to write at all—or to write in a closet and never let your words see the light of day.

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Overcoming rejection

Overcoming Rejection and the Writing Life.
Monica Wood says in her book, The Pocket Muse that “every writer needs two critics, one who gives only praise and another who never ever lies.”

The love-everything reader: I agree that the encouragement of family and friends who love everything I write goes a long way toward keeping the creative juices flowing.

The gently discerning listener: In my writers group, I have the support of people who never lie, but they tell the truth in the most gentle and supportive way, qualifying with an “I may be wrong,” so that it hardly feels like criticism and is very constructive.

The Nasty and Adversarial Critic: There are other kinds of critics a writer is bound to encounter along the way—one who, for reasons we may never know, seems bent on tearing the writer and her work apart, apparently taking personal umbrage at what has been written and is fighting back.

The Clueless Critic: There is also the critic, who, though he harbors no malice, does not understand your viewpoint, but because of his or her own experiences and beliefs or biases, finds fault where there is none.

It is up to the writer to sort through it all and find her own truth.

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

How to take the sting out of criticism

In the years I have been writing, I have found how useful criticism can be. I seek it out as I'm writing. But in order to avoid letting a rejection or negative review bring creativity to a halt, as I've done in the past, I've learned that writers must:

1) Look closely at any criticism of their literary efforts,
2) Measure criticsm thoughtfully against their own purposes,
3) Apply what is constructive,
4) Discard all that isn’t constructive,
5) Move on to write again.

It is far better to have written and be criticized, than never to have written at all.

Of course, like many things in life, deflecting critical darts is easier said than done. It has taken me many years to get to the point that I can quite quickly stop the bleeding, step back, and analyze the criticism objectively. It has made my writing better, and I give a lot of credit for the popularity of my stories to my editors. They see things I miss. That doesn't mean they are always right. No one knows the characters, plot, and purpose as well as the writer does, so it is important to keep that purpose in mind and to guage other suggestions and criticisms against it.

MORE TOMORROW.

Monday, September 3, 2007

The Sting of Criticism

I have not kept up with my blogs on as regular a basis as I thought I would. I hope to remedy that, and though there might not be a post everyday, I plan at least three or four a week. For the next four posts I'll take not only an example from Janet Grace Riehl, a faithful blogger, but also borrow some of her content. She recently hosted me as guest blogger, posting a short essay of mine on her blog. I will repeat it here. After I wrote comments on criticism, Janet, with my permission and gratitude, divided them into parts with headings and posted them on her blog.

All writers, unless they keep their work in a closet, under the bed, or hidden somewhere so that it will never be read, will encounter both praise and criticism. Like many writers, when I first started submitting my work, years ago, I was rocked by the tiniest criticism and gentle rejection. I let it block my writing muse while I told myself. "See? I can't write!" What a lot of time I wasted by doing that to myself. It was with this in mind that I wrote the short essay which Janet Grace Riehl divided into four parts on her blog (http://www.riehlife.com/) Here is part one.

I believe the writer is a special breed of person—one with extraordinarily acute vision, talent, and passion. From the writer’s pen flows, not mere words, but an outpouring for the writer’s soul similar to the travail—and the joy—of giving birth to an infant.
A writer may feel a defensiveness of her verbal creations not wholly unlike the maternal protectiveness experienced when someone criticizes or threatens her offspring.

Blessed is the writer who can emerge undaunted from the paralyzing blow of sharp criticism. Naturally, her tender heart bleeds from the onslaught of arrows shot at her work—her babies. A writer’s equally tender ego takes the full force of those arrows and is wounded by their sting.