In a follow-up to The Questioning Beta Reader, I thought today’s post would be about finding beta readers who share the same goals in critiquing WIPS.

During these past seven years of participating in numerous groups, I feel I still haven’t found the right one. Partly because most of the individuals whom I think would all work well together are scattered across the country. We have to deal with different time zones, but also some of the writers rather meet in person, while others don’t seem to care whether we form a group online and communicate via email or Skype. And then there’s the issue of submitting chapter by chapter or the whole megillah.

I used to submit chapter by chapter, make the suggested changes and then submit the next one. I finally realized this wasn’t efficient at all. Submitting in one fell swoop makes more sense because the beta reader gets the immediacy of the story, instead of having it serialized and it also facilitates their task in providing detailed feedback.

I also think that a small group—no more than four people—works better. Why? It’s a question of time logistics. Most of us are eager to get feedback quickly so we can either tweak and incorporate in corporate it into out WIPS. If the group becomes larger then the work (and remember most of us have jobs) of reading so many manuscripts becomes more like a chore that gets put off.

Before you jump in and join a critique group or workshop, consider how you can become a better beta reader. Back in February 2010, I wrote The Art of Giving a Good Critique and included some guidelines provided by Becky Levine. from her book, The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide: How to Give and Receive Feedback, Self-Edit, and Make Revisions. I think they’re worth repeating here:

• Start with the good things
• Critiquing–not copyediting
• Explaining big, overall issues
• Noting smaller problems
• Offering suggestions
• Ending with encouragement

Once you have those points drilled into your head, it’s time to find your group, but also consider what kind of groupyou’re looking for. For example, the next time I join a group, I want it to be a local with no more than four members.Second, I want to be part of a group where we all write in similar genres (in my case, women’s fiction, literary fiction, contemporary fiction). Why? In all fairness, I don’t enjoy reading certain genres and it would be difficult to provide unbiased feedback. Third, I want a group with structure and guidelines in submissions and conducting the crits. In other words, a set time and place every week with a minimum of two hours to discuss the work (an hour per writer, or 30 minutes per writer—if you want to include the entire group in one session).

Back to the main question where do you find this group or even a critique partner? Becky Levine offers the following suggestions:

• Bulletin boards at bookstores, libraries and cafes
• Online at the various writing organizations. Check their local chapters.
• Classes, writing clubs, conferences
• Word of mouth from other writers

And if you can’t find a group that fits your specific requirements, be proactive and start one yourself. You’ll meet other writers with similar goals and, hopefully, be more productive with your writing and feedback.

I’ve been participating in a recent discussion about excessively harsh and mean-spirited feedback where, in some cases, the remarks were so nasty that tears were shed and all writing stopped. On occasion, within that harsh crit, there’s a gold nugget of wisdom that might be helpful in rethinking our stories. But it’s hard to find that nugget when it’s buried in vitriol and in the ego of the beta reader/writer who thinks he or she knows it all.

I stopped submitting my work to the Novels-List on IWW in part because I felt that feedback was too disparate and at times nasty. I kept whittling down my beta readers and until I found a rapport with two writers I met in an online class.

As I wrote in Don’t Do This, my last submission was torn to pieces. Not in a nasty way, but enough to leave me discouraged that I haven’t written a word in two months. But what bothered me was that my beta readers offered suggestions they thought would make the story more compelling–not realizing that it becomes the story they want to read (and maybe write) and not one I want to write.

In the Yahoo Group  I belong to and where this discussion started, one writer commented about a beta reader who is negative, but not harsh. Unlike most critters, she doesn’t offer suggestions, but questions why the writer went in a certain direction. This made me think of my own style of giving feedback, and I realized my tendency is to look at the WIP more as a finished book and provide a review, which isn’t valuable because the story is going through numerous revisions.

I like the idea of questioning the writer because it forces us to examine and analyze our character’s motivations, the overall premise, the main conflict, the flow of one scene to the next, the final climax, the resolution, and places where the story meanders away from the main plot. And although I might be questioning all these factors myself, sometimes if the question is framed differently it might lead to an “aha” moment and take me down in a very unexpected, but more satisfying path for both the writer and, ultimately, the reader.

When I first started submitting Julius on the Novels-List at the Internet Writing Workshop, I was anxious to learn how to critique, but also receive feedback.

The few valuable critiques I did receive were about craft and killing a lot of the megillah of back story that was slowing down the action. However, before I came to the conclusion that these handful of critters were right (remember how much I love back story) I discovered the majority of the crits had more to do with copyediting, formatting, or simply insipid comments like, “I really liked this.”

After some time of belonging to the list, I dropped out because much of the feedback was not helpful. However, that’s not to say that I didn’t learn anything about the process of an online critique group. As a novice writer, I discovered what to distinguish what was valuable and what wasn’t.

In the beginning I was delighted that readers liked the tone, and that I had few copy edits. As I made my revisions and resubmitted, I noticed that many of the comments were suggestions that altered the characters’ motivations.  Other readers wanted all the information up front in the first chapter that ended giving away the entire plot. That’s when I realized that a good chunk of the people on the list were just as clueless as I was about craft. Does that make them bad writers who have no talent? No, of course not. They are or were just as inexperienced as I was, and offered what they thought was a valid critique. In essence, to use a cheap cliche, the Novels-List can be like the blind leading the blind.

At first, thinking that most of the participants had published books, I took their comments seriously and made the changes to see that it simply wasn’t working the way I had envisioned the story.  As I continued to follow my instincts, I realized that you don’t have to agree with what everyone says. Conversely, there were comments that my first chapter was boring, and this I fought this for a long time, but after re-reading the first page for what was now the one thousandth time I agreed with the critter  and revised it to a more dramatic opening, which plays nicely into the story’s theme (at least I think so).

What’s important to keep in mind when getting feedback is to not let the comments get in the way of your writing.  Don’t let them interrupt the momentum. In the long run, you’re the one who knows best what works for your characters and the plot. Don’t get sidetracked trying to change things to please your audience, but if you change elements do so because they make sense to you and, ultimately, helps the story.

About a year ago when I was submitting Julius for critique at the Novels-List at the Internet Writing Workshop some of my fellow critters took offense of my characters’ lifestyle.

Jake and Corinne are in their late 30s. They have successful and lucrative careers, but they hate their jobs and decide to quit to launch this Marxist magazine, which you all know by now is called Julius. The offended critters were not troubled by the fact that my characters were Marxists, but that they  had the gall to eat out often or order takeout. One person even said that my characters were irresponsible.

In that particular instance I had to explain that in New York City food to order, in many cases, is much cheaper than cooking from scratch. The response I received in an email from the critter was that they should be eating ramen noodles because he knew what it was like to be unemployed and not have money.

Oops. I guess I might have pushed a button or two. I wrote back and explained that my characters had the means to quit their jobs to launch a business, and that eating at restaurants and ordering takeout was an activity that defined them as cosmopolitan and busy New Yorkers.

Other critters questioned their politics, arguing that the breakdown of the Soviet Union and the Soviet-bloc countries proved that Communism had been a failure. One person even proclaimed Julius as a polemic defending a unworthy economic system. One person stopped reading because she  disagreed with their politics.

All I can say to these critters is this: Simmer down now. Don’t take it so personally. It’s fiction. These characters are not real. They are my sole invention.

However, it’s not all bad; there are the positive reactions. One beta reader seems to be in love with Corinne and commented, “Where has this girl been my entire life?” Um, in my head. Sure some of Corinne’s quips and gestures are based on me and even some of her wisecracks I can imagine saying–after all, I wrote them. But her personal demons are very different from mine, and let’s face it, although, we share an obsession over Alvah Bessie, I’m not haunted by his spirit.  Another reader, also a published writer, loves Jake. She sees him as attractive, intelligent, and said he would be the type of guy she would want to date. I would too, especially the way I’ve pictured him in my head and in the bedroom.

Although I’m in my ninety-something iteration of the draft and the story is going through a major overhaul, what’s interesting to note just by the sample of these comments is that Julius seems to be pushing buttons–both good and bad. I’m not getting, middle of the road reactions, but extreme ones.  I just hope that by the time it’s finally finished, and published by a major house that I’ll get a good review by Michiko Kakutani  and slammed by Glenn Beck–now imagine what my sales will be like?

This morning while checking email I came across one from a writer on the Writing List of the Internet Writing Workshop. The subject header read: An Apology. This is what it said:

Dear members,

I want to apologize for giving bad advice. I think I told someone to stop writing and I want to apologize for that. I have no idea why I would say (write) such a thing to anyone, when it would break my heart to hear (read) such a thing.

I would like to tell that person I am sorry. I do not remember who it was or what they wrote. I want to apologize. I agree with someone else who wrote “usually a writer simply needs encouragement and where can they turn to for that, if not a writers group”.

I apologize, once again for giving such heartbreaking and negative advice. I can only hope you will forgive me and realize that your writing is worth the effort, the sweat, the tears, the frustration, the time, and energy it takes to get it onto the page.

I am grateful there were others who countered my advice and encouraged you to continue your writing. I hope you take their advice and continue to write. There are no words to say how badly I feel about giving such advice.

Thank you,