Making a Critique Group Work

Here's my thoughts on how to present effective critique in a group setting. At it's best, critique is a delicate balancing act that falls somewhere between cheerleading and brain surgery.

There are several models for reading the material that's going to be critiqued. I'm going to discuss the model we're using in the critique groups I lead—the tried and true, "members show up with written material and enough copies for everyone; they read aloud." No matter the model, I find the following advice useful.

First of all, it's important to realize that everyone benefits from the critique—from receiving it, hearing what others have to say, and from giving it. Each of these roles requires a certain attitude from group members, and that's what I want to discuss.

Receiving Critique:
Once you've read your piece and turned it over to others for response, the most important thing you can do for the process is be actively receptive. Listen. Absorb. Take notes. Look for patterns. If more than one person in the group has the same observation, it's probably worth looking at even if you disagree with the feedback. They may not have "what's wrong" right, but they're probably pointing to a place in your writing that's not working as well as it might, where what you intended is not getting across for "some reason." It really is important to remain as silent as you can during this process and to discipline yourself not to defend or explain what's on the page. This is not an absolute, if someone asks a question, of course you can answer it, but do so concisely, stick to the answer, rather than using it as an opportunity to explain your text more broadly or answer something else.  Think of this behavior as a meditation, a practice, a discipline. Challenge yourself to remain in a quiet, receptive head space, mouth mostly closed.

Hearing What Others Have to Say:

In some ways this is the most difficult role. You might feel distracted or disinterested since you are not part of the immediate exchange. Someone else's observations may trigger ideas of your own, or contradict what you feel and see. Your inclination may be to jump in and object or add your two bits. It's better when you don't. Give everyone their say before jumping back in. It's best when the group goes around the circle, each person taking their turn. That's rule number one. Rule number two is that if you listen and try to see and understand the rationale for the critique someone else is providing, especially when it's not something you see or agree with, you'll learn something about how else the words work. Reading is a private experience. How we read—how we respond to what we read, what we like, what bothers us or throws us out of the story—it's all subjective. When the focus is on another person's writing, your defenses are generally down, and you can learn a lot about how writing works on the page. You'll see things you do from the perspective of a witness. "Ah, that's why I get that kind of feedback sometimes... I do something similar." Furthermore attentive listening to the group, even when you're not the center of attention is good behavior, good discipline—liking learning to play well with the other kids at kindergarten, right?

Giving Critique: 

Here we enter the realm of art. Giving good critique is a learned skill, an art. You have to care about others and about writing to do it well. The obvious rule of thumb is, how would you want someone to tell you what you have to say? This works for positive as well as negative feedback. Don't you love it when someone is excited about your writing or some part of your writing and genuinely takes the time to express their appreciation of what you've accomplished with your words? I do. I float around for quite some time after getting excited feedback about something I've written.  Even if it's just one sentence out of an otherwise unsuccessful piece, I want to know what worked. So. Plain and simple: start with what's working. Not simply because it's good manners, but because it's important we learn when and where our writing works. We need to look to the strongest places, see what we've done and learn how to do it again.

Second: Do your absolute best to try not to rewrite someone else's piece the way you would write. Every voice is unique. The last thing critique should do is undo someone's voice, unless that voice is really not working at all. Even then, there's nothing to be gained by suggesting someone write the way you do, or would, if you were handling the same material. If you want to write about it in your own way, then do so, but don't tell another person how they should do it. Instead, look for the places where you stumbled, where you didn't understand what the writer was communicating, couldn't see what they were trying to picture, or just felt something was "off." Point it out. It's actually enough to point it out. You don't have to fix it for them, only suggest that "here's a place you might want to explore. It didn't work for me because.... (I got lost, I couldn't see what was going on, etc.) You can even say, "I didn't believe your character would say that, it didn't sound like something they would say because...." and point to other places in the text that seem to support your observation.

Avoid saying "I would do it this way." There's an absolute temptation to say, "you could .... " and fill in the blank. I don't think that's wrong per se. I think it can be useful to hear suggestions. This is especially true when they're broad. For example, you might say, "what would happen if you showed us more of where we are. I'd like to see the room better."  Or the character, or the time of day, etc. That can be very useful. You're pointing to things that seem missing. Or it might be that you'd like to hear some dialogue, that the narrative seems to go on for too long without a sense of being in the moment. All this can be useful, valuable critique. The important thing is that you think about how you're framing your observations. Be specific, be thoughtful.

About That Magic

I once had someone tell me that my writing was usually magical, but the piece I'd brought in wasn't. It was very hard to respond in a practical way to that particular critique. "What should I do? Hit it with a stick?" Poof. Now it's magical too? You need to go on from there and say something like, "I think it's not working because the conversation between your characters doesn't engage me." Even that's not really enough. Instead you want to go through it line by line, saying,  "well this works, and this works, but right here—this remark by this character seems off. Would he really say that?" Perhaps the voice sounds too modern or too young or too timid... but at least now you're pointing the writer to something they can address. My first response to hearing the piece I'd written lacked my usual magic was to think I should throw the whole thing out and start over. Of course, I didn't know how to start over. So the criticism discouraged me. It left me feeling that it was all too hard, and I'd never get it right, that I might as well give up.

It's dicey business pushing another writer into discouragement. It's where you really have to examine your motives. Competition belongs outside a critique group. You have to be a team player, you have to play fair. It requires maturity, self-awareness and self-confidence. And, above all, honesty—not just about another's writing, but about yourself and with yourself. Let me repeat it: self-awareness. That's one of the reasons why everyone in a critique group should be sharing writing. What goes around, comes around. If the group starts to get mean-spirited, if people are using their words in the wrong way, then stop and talk about it. Get to the bottom of the upset or let the group go. It's got to be a safe and supportive environment to work.

Personally, nothing I've done has helped my writing more than working in a variety of critique groups. I've been in the same writing group now for over two years. It's made a huge difference in my writing. I'm very grateful for what it's given me.  I think when a group fails, it's primarily because not enough attention was given to the way the group works. Group dynamics? Important stuff. Writing groups? Worth the effort—worth learning to do them well.