Criticism

You've read and heard the aphorism: those who can do, and those who can't teach. I wonder if it applies equally well to reviewers. Movies, music, painting, books, and a raft of other artistic endeavors are regularly subjected to published opinions. I should know something about that, since I write monthly book reviews for an online magazine.

I try not to forget the first command (written large on our blackboard in the ninth grade) from my high school English teacher:
All criticism should be in plus values. It occurs to me all these years later that that was a remarkable introduction. Its implications weren't lost on us, and they continue to echo to this day.

Have you ever been in a writer's critique group? Do you have trouble deciding what to say about an offering for the current meeting? As comments are made, are they useful? Do they inspire a rewrite? Do they lead to new approaches? Do they make you wish you had stayed in bed?

Admittedly, critique and criticism are not the same breed of cat, though certainly they are related. Perhaps one of the most difficult parts of moving many hundreds of miles from my home has been the absence of opportunities to receive and discipline myself to hand out "constructive" criticism among fellow writers. Writing with a hope of publication becomes kind of like trying to walk without staggering on a strange road after dark. Just remember you can't trust your best friend to show you the way unless they have a flashlight. You really need someone who already knows where the potholes are.

If you are attempting any kind of artistic production, seek out those who may be willing at the very least to make comments that begin with discussing what your story or sculpture or song is before they try to tell you what it isn't, where its problems may be. Maybe equally important (an idea my editor has suggested to me), give yourself the same courtesy.

Until I achieve a critical success with a "traditional" publisher, ignore this whole blog. Don't listen to me, for the reason quoted in the first line.

Serendipity?

A recent happy surprise has set me thinking (not for the first time!) about the Writer and the Reader. I got back a critique from a judge in a contest to which I submitted a short story.

Even more than with the horse and carriage, you really can't have one without the other -- the Writer and the Reader, that is. Never mind all that stuff (I've already commented on it) about writing for yourself. The reader is the gem we're seeking.

Twice in the same six-month period, I've had comments on something I've written that made me do a kind of in-the-mirror double take. Luckily, I liked what I saw.

Have you ever been fortunate enough to have someone read your story, essay, poem, whatever, and respond with a comment that makes you wonder what you missed when you were struggling through making the thing up? It's awful when that turns out to be one of those unintended consequences that highlight something badly expressed or imperfectly researched...but once in a while, someone sees a metaphor or a moral or an idea that you comprehend yourself only after a new pair of eyes and another brain have seen what you thought you understood better than anyone else could. If you realize the words on the page do, indeed, enforce that (to you) new territory, it's like getting a prize.

Even though you suspect it's undeserved, may any writer reading this be lucky enough to find a dozen such Eureka moments!