One of the very most difficult aspects of the writing process for any author is how to respond to feedback about their writing.
Listening to feedback in order to improve one’s work is an incredibly important skill, and some authors are adept at skillfully improving their drafts based on the advice they receive (I’ve seen it happen). But what happens when you don’t necessarily agree with the advice?
What is the balance between listening and ignoring? Do you follow the people you trust or go with your gut? Should you bow to someone with more experience or trust your own instincts? When do you go with the advice and when do you hold firm?
Successful revisions hang in the balance!
Furious D says
Hmmm…
I think it would depend on the advice and the reasons behind it.
Some advice is given because of the honest desire to improve the work. Other advice can be just someone being in love with the sound of their own voice.
I guess the secret is to discern which is which.
I try to be open to constructive feedback, because I’m always looking to improve my work.
Laurel Amberdine says
Great question!
I depends a lot on who is giving the advice and what I’m hoping to achieve.
– If the advice is from an editor or agent, I’d do it unless it’s going to turn my work into something I couldn’t bear to have to have my name on.
– Readers are always right. If a reader is confused or bored or irritated… I did it wrong. Sometimes I can’t simultaneously address every reader’s concerns, but I would always try.
– The biggest “should I do this?” issue comes from writer/critiquers who often want to revise things into their own vision of a story, or to whatever standards they’ve decided are obligatory.
In that case, of course I take advice I agree with. But, if it’s not too much trouble, and I have the time, I’ll try advice I don’t agree with, just to see how it turns out.
calendula-witch says
Good question, indeed. I try to always listen to advice, especially from my solid (and published) crit partners. But when I get contradictory advice from different people, I tend to either change it a different way altogether (figuring I confused people anyway), or stay with what I had in the first place (if I still like it.)
Adrienne says
I say go for the gut. But the gut only comes into play after I’ve really taken in the advice and theoretically applied it. I get defensive almost right away with any edits and suggestions (I can’t deny it). I have learned however, to still take them in and see if the person maybe has a point. Many times they actually do. But sometimes, after giving their advice a shot, it still feels wrong.
Of course it also helps to respect the source of the advice. There are certain people I will listen to wholeheartedly, I might not agree in the end, but I will give their advice due attention. Then there are others that I will nod and smile at, and forget about two seconds later.
Roxan says
If one opinion out of several is different, I tend not to listen to the one. If it is something everyone is pointing out, then I will consider their advice.
Then sometimes I’m really stubborn, especially when I like something I wrote and flat refuse to change it.
I agree with furious d’s assessment of those who just like the sound of their own voice. I also run across those who will say negative things no matter what.
Cory says
As the other commenters said, it depends on who’s giving the advice and the reason behind it, which can be difficult to discern. Most often, though, I find myself agreeing with people’s criticism, so it works out fine for me.
If I don’t agree but don’t feel strongly about it, I’ll give it a try to see what works better; only if I feel very strongly that following advice given would ruin my intentions for something will I refuse to change anything (and that’s only after I’ve given it a lot of thought).
Anonymous says
Well, I think you have to consider the source.
For example,if you are writing experimental lit fic, better to listen to someone who loves your voice, your sense of writing, (editor, agent, teacher, etc.) and such a person can really help to refine or improve it.
However, someone who writes -and lives for- spy novels might not be an appropriate for that kind of writer in many cases.
A wise woman once said to me, do not try to make a yellow flower red. It will frustrate both of you.
However, if someone -in the advice department- really gets what kind of a writer you are, or are trying to be, -and wants to contribute to the development and realization of that process- I think that in itself is very helpful to taking their advice.
Also, if you are in school or have signed on with someone, well, in affect you have hired them as an adviser and expert. If you can’t at least listen to them, and consider what they have to say, perhaps you should find a different expert.
However, as Keroack said in his 30 Essentials…
storyengineer says
I’ve been a lurker on this blog for several months. This is a great question, and I want to comment on it. First, however, I just wanted to say that I gave this blog an award. I love the query tips and the sense of humor you have. For that, thanks!
sex scenes at starbucks says
I always carefully consider advice given to me by industry insiders–you folks on the business side. It’s all served me well, so far.
I have four critiquers and I know their style, preferences, and biases very well. One person’s advice I take almost without thinking, because s/he’s always been spot on. Another’s advice sometimes doesn’t work for me because s/he often misses how the trees build up the forest. And yet another won’t take their fiction as dark and dirty as I’ll take mine, so I recognise their qualms when I see them. Generally, though, I’m very fortunate in the advice/critting department.
Dwight's Writing Manifesto says
You should listen to everyone kind (or unkind) enough to give you feedback.
But God gave you a middle finger for a reason.
At the end of the day, it’s YOUR art, Pedro.
storyengineer says
The first thing I do when I get writing advice is to look at the story again. If I agree with them, I’ll change it. If I don’t agree with they’re suggestions, I’ll at least consider changing it another way to make it better. I find that I haven’t written it the best way the first time, so the advice at least points me to trouble spots.
Jessica says
Ooh, a question very near and dear to my heart, as I’m currently sifting through a big batch of critiques. It is a tough question and one that I’ve been wrestling with.
Unsurprisingly, I make changes that I agree with. If, as I’m reading through the comments, I find myself nodding along, that gets pretty quickly changed. I also make changes if I have more than one reader comment on the same thing.
If the reader seems to ‘get’ the novel overall and have a good sense for what I am trying to accomplish, then I tend to give a little more weight to their suggestions. They are usually spot-on.
I also give more weight to readers who read the genre, but I don’t discount comments from those who don’t.
It’s incredibly frustrating when readers come back with opposite feedback on the same thing. Half the readers think that a particular scene or aspect of the writing is what makes the book, and the other half think that the same ruins the book. When that happens, I will sometimes just go with my gut. I try to reread that section as objectively as possible, but know that ultimately it is my book and the final decision is mine. If I feel that it still works, despite suggestions otherwise, I’ll stick with it. Sometimes I’ll do as laurel amberdine suggested, and try rewriting according to the critiques, then compare the two versions.
I’m struggling now with conflicting critiques and am still stumped as to how to proceed, so this is an interesting question! I’m curious to see how others respond.
Jared X says
Comments I always at least consider revising for:
“I didn’t believe the part where…”
“This part was a little slow.”
“Oh, was that supposed to be funny? I get it now. [polite laughter]”
“How did she back down the driveway when she was still in the house?”
“Dude, I was, like, sticking an open Sharpie in my eye to stay awake.”
All advice can be helpful, even if it doesn’t ultimately lead to revision. If the person’s advice isn’t valued, he/she should have to buy a copy like everyone else.
Angela says
Revision suggestions from someone I trust: I try it. Even if I don’t like it; I try it. Sometimes the changes work; sometimes they don’t.
Writing isn’t sculpting – if someone advises a sculptor to chop parts off her art, it might be a little bit difficult to put back together again.
A writer can go back to the ov if the revisions don’t work.
Adaora A. says
Good topic.
In my opinion if I don’t agree I tend to have a crack at giving it a rework based on suggestions (and I keep the original). You can rework it with their suggestions, and ask – people you trust – which version they prefer. If they say the new version, they could be right. Sometimes writers are attached to the original version because of that old; ‘blood, sweat and tears,’ being put into the work. Sometimes it serves to give it another angle and see which works best. I always take advice as something given with a desire for it to be better be it agents or your steadfast reader.
Brenda says
Thanks for this post, Nathan.
I think cultivating a tough skin and a good ear for listening is really essential.
A dear author friend of mine once said that edit advice should be taken by a writer like a doctor reviewing symptoms. Having this viewpoint makes me less touchy about what people say. Even when they say very definite things like, “I hate your protagonist.”
I label such comments as ‘concerns with protagonist’ and move on. If several people were to say the same thing, I would see their response as a stronger symptom, but not the problem itself. It is for me to assess the trouble area of protagonist-likeability and make my own diagnosis about what makes my character seem unlikeable. Sometimes a change only involves minor cosmetics. At others, major surgery.
I agree that some people are way more qualified to give critique than others. I really appreciate input from agents and editors, even rejections.
During final edits, I also like to get cold reads from people who might be target readers. They catch glitches in story that really open my eyes.
Mon Chéri says
It depends on the source and my gut.
I have received conflicting advice from two sources that were equally qualified. They personally knew each other and thought it was funny they gave me apposing advise. In the end, they both agreed that it was up to me, the author, to decide. So if I mess it up, it rests on no one else’s shoulders but mine. After all, the author should know the story and the characters better than anyone else. And the author should be able to see if the advice will actually help or hinder the story.
Other Lisa says
if someone -in the advice department- really gets what kind of a writer you are, or are trying to be, -and wants to contribute to the development and realization of that process- I think that in itself is very helpful to taking their advice.
I think this is exactly right.
The important thing as a writer is that you really try to listen, to keep an open mind, to not let your ego get in the way of hearing what has been said.
The quality of the advice and the way it’s delivered make a huge difference for that last part.
I’ve been incredibly lucky in that regard.
Regarding conflicting advice, I’ve had that happen too. This really comes down to whether the advisor gets what the writer is trying to do and wants to help the writer realize his/her intentions (of course it does help to know what your own intentions are, and the best advice I got helped me sort through all that). But even advice that is not useful in and of itself can point to problems and lead to tangentially related solutions.
I think of books as, well, houses in a way. When I read other peoples’ stuff, they may be writing a book that isn’t for me, building a house that I wouldn’t want to live in. But that doesn’t mean I can’t take a step back and say, “okay, how do we make this house better? More livable? More pleasing to the eye?”
I generally advise against stucco, regardless of genre.
Paprikapink says
I found this article in the New Yorker, about Raymond Carver’s editorial relationship with Gordon Lish, https://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2007/12/24/071224fa_fact
to be a very moving account of the depth of a writer’s need to express what they really need to say they way they need to say it. Finding someone who can help you achieve that expression without stifling you is a valuable find indeed. And sometimes you find those people standing around on street corners! Take Nathan’s first page contest as a random example. We had “unpublished, self-appointed editors” (horrors!) voluntarily reading and commenting on the pages. The feedback those readers gave me on my 500 words was so valuable! Any decent feedback is really a gift. Not all of it is going to be what you want, but you’ve got to be grateful for every scrap. As for using my “gut” to decide…I find that I have to let time elapse between receiving the feedback and deciding on it. My gut seems to include a lot of ego and just plain stubbornness at a superficial level, but if I let it percolate, I can usually find a truer response.
Anonymous says
Ooh, I want Jared X’s critique partners! Ha!
For me what matters most is if the advice is meant to help MY vision of the book become stronger. Suggestions that don’t strengthen YOUR vision of the story are usually gimmicky and off, tone-wise.
I’m posting as an Anon because I’ve been on the receiving end of terrible advice, from people “in the industry” who, as it turned out, didn’t know their ass from a plot point.
A quiet novel is a quiet novel and things like “… can’t this character be assaulted right here, or why isn’t there any sex…” proved that this advice giver had no clue of the industry itself, much less the type of book I’d written.
Tom Burchfield says
Funny this came up as I’m about to send a draft of my book to five to ten readers for vetting. These are all people who may or may not know each other(so each opinion stands on its own; there’s no “group think” at work.) Most are writers of one kind or another, some are not. I’m of the philosophy that not all readers are writers and my book is written as much for sheer pleasure as art (and are they that different?).
I don’t respond well to “shotgun criticism.” Most writer’s groups I’ve known follow that policy and that’s why I don’t do them anymore. It always seems the critic is just trying to show how “tough” they can be. Or, as I like to put it, “I can’t hear you when you’re shouting and, besides, we’re not curing global warming and bring peace to Iraq here.”
Usually, the calmer the critic, the more I hear and understand what needs to be done. I’d say it’s about 50-50 with me. If there’s a genuine consensus something is wrong, then . . . something is wrong.
Danette says
I take all comments seriously–after all, I’ve asked for a critique and I need to see how what I’ve written hits the reader.
I never trust the critique that begins and ends with “I love it!” Even if it’s true, I want to know what I did right so I can do it again.
If two or more qualified readers comment on the same issue, you know I’m looking at it again. And if my editor makes a suggestion, I’ll do whatever I can to satisfy that suggestion. If it doesn’t work, I’ll now be able to explain why.
People sometimes say, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” You can’t hurt my feelings by providing constructive criticism.
Ulysses says
Depends on what they’re pointing out.
Technical stuff, I can look up. Did I actually break a rule of grammar/spelling/style in a moment of inattention? If someone finds this stuff, I say thank-you with utmost humility, correct it, and give myself fifty lashes with Strunk and White (much less painful than using the hardcover Chicago Manual of Style).
Story stuff depends further.
I’ve always found the best criticism articulates a feeling or concern I’ve had at the back of my mind, but have previously ignored or dismissed. “This didn’t work for me because A isn’t the kind of person who would do that for B.” Yeah. . . that’s right. A isn’t like that at all. A would much more likely. . .
Otherwise:
I consider what I’m trying to do with the bits in question. Would it be done more effectively if I made a change?
Is this something other people have brought up before? If so, I’d better rewrite it. Regardless of my personal feeling, it appears something’s not working.
Are they displeased by something I did intentionally? Did I do it well? Can I do it better? Given who they are, how they read and what they like, should I bother trying? Did I write this passage for a reader with tastes that differ from those of this advisor?
I have one reader who’s advice I occasionally ignore because she’s often looking for things in my work that I have no desire to put there. Nothing wrong with her taste. It’s just that she wants to read a story that is different from the one I’m trying to write.
And, of course:
If this advice comes from an editor/publisher who promises publication upon a successful rewrite (does this ever happen?), especially if they’re dangling a substantial cash offer, then I pay rabid attention, take copious notes, and flog myself with those notes instead of Strunk and White. And then I follow their advice. I guess I’m a mercenary at heart.
wonderer says
lauren amberdine wrote…
– The biggest “should I do this?” issue comes from writer/critiquers who often want to revise things into their own vision of a story, or to whatever standards they’ve decided are obligatory.
I run into this problem quite often. My critique group has some members who tend to go overboard on the “What if you…?” and “I think you should…” comments, and it’s frustrating. However, they are very astute critiquers in other respects.
Apart from that, I agree with previous commenters that certain types of feedback should always (or almost always) be addressed, especially when there’s a consensus among readers. Some changes are a matter of opinion, and I can take them or leave them (after due consideration, of course). Other changes are pretty much required, even if I think I’ve been clear. As Laurel said, if the reader is confused, it’s probably my fault.
millhousethecat says
I joined an online site where others kindly offer to read and critique your work.
Once you post a few chapters and you find that you have “regular” critters, you can weed out the ones who get your voice and those who would pay money to read other works in your genre from those who are too kind to tell you about the spinach between your front teeth and those who just want to crush your already fragile soul. This, to me, can be invaluable.
My friends and family have been willing to critique, but are more likely to say, “Good job!” This makes my naturally curly hair more bouncy, but does nothing to improve my work.
However, anonymous (-ish) critters can offer some of the best advice. I generally revise when I get: “This is slow.”; or “I have read this seven times and I still don’t get it.”; or “WTF?”
When you have an idea of the spirit of the comments and criticisms, and they are offset by the occasional, “Man, I wish I’d written that!”, it is easier to take.
There are some comments, though, that I shake my head at and ignore completely. Particularly if the critter spells they’re for their.
I’m just saying.
Sophie W. says
[i]If the reader seems to ‘get’ the novel overall and have a good sense for what I am trying to accomplish, then I tend to give a little more weight to their suggestions. They are usually spot-on.[/i]
Jessica is exactly right. The first thing I look for in a beta reader is someone who ‘gets’ the novel. The difference between critiques from those who get the novel and those who don’t is astronomical.
As a general rule of thumb, if I find myself nodding along with the beta’s comments, then I take them seriously. If I’m spending thirty seconds between each comment trying to figure out what they’re talking about, I’m not going to give a lot of weight to their critiques. Except, of course, for those instances when they say something like, “I didn’t understand this part” or “Could you be clearer here?”
Michael says
I’ll follow the advice when it resonates with concerns I already have with the story and characters, or if the advice strikes a particular new idea on how to present the story. Otherwise not so much, if the critics wants to tell a story, they should tell their own. (That said, basics of spelling, grammar and comprehesnibility always matter, I’m referring specifically to story/character/plot issues).
pete osborne says
To be successful, you’ve got to listen to feedback, process it (boozing, screaming, swearing, crying; pick your process), and then start addressing the comments. It’s work. It’s hard, it sucks, and it’s what separates us from the vanity press.
The comment may offer up a point of view that you’d never considered. And if the reviewer comes up with the comment (e.g., ‘I don’t get it.’ ‘What does this mean?’ ‘The hero should’ve died at the end of the first chapter.’), then you can be sure a big ol’ sampling of the book-buying public will, too. As special as writers are, the non-writers are prone to groupthink. Deal with it and smile.
That said, when writing for any client…well, any corporate client – and really you should consider your agent and editor as your two biggest corporate clients – try, hell, demand a clear consensus and agreement (is that redundant?) on major changes to the plot or main character. Similar to notes/edits that constitute a fundamental shift in a business/marketing strategy, the shift in direction needs to be clarified, because misinterpretation can lead to lost time and lost tempers. Unfortunately, you can’t drop a change order on your agent or editor to get more cash. Or can you?
Some clients just like to put their stamp on things. If publishing is anything like the real world, reputations are calling cards; success is authority.
I suppose the other option is to thumb your nose at any constructive criticism, find funding, and start your own house. And for the truly independent and misunderstood, there’s always POD, because if you write it, we’ll be compelled to read it.
Kind like this comment.
Becky Levine says
See, this is one of the good things about a critique group. When several members of your group walk into the coffee house, swearing with their blood that they have not conferred before this moment, and they all tell you something isn’t working, well…you have to be an ostrich with a very long neck to idnore that feedback.
Other than that, it varies for me. The gifts are when a reader makes a comment, and the lightbulb zings brightly in your brain, and you see it, right then, how it’s all going to work and make things so much better. Then there are the times it’s more like a serious ache in your stomach. When you can’t see it at all, you don’t know how you’re going to make that feedback work, but you know they’re right, and you need to.
Pretty much, on the ones where there’s no lighbulb and no nausea, but just a, “Huh? What?” kind of reaction–I give myself permission to ignore those.
I think that the best thing we as writers can do about this is to know our own stories. Which we can’t do without serious thought and revision, anyway. But the more you know your book, the more you know not just the overall meaning or plot, but every detail, every scene, the more you’ll be able to sort through the…oh, what, chaff? Wheat? Some agriculture metaphor, anyway.
150 says
Believe the criticism, disbelieve the praise.
Dave F. says
I listen to every comment and I consider every comment. I try to see what they saw that prompted the comment.
However, I won’t sacrifice style and tone to a reviewer. I probably wouldn’t sacrifice a character to a commentary.
Anonymous says
This is a great question. Basically I consider every comment I receive as important, I figure it’s my job as the author to see that readers are not puzzled or confused by my story. However, I also consider how each reader actually fits into the target audience for my book and some where between those two points is how I decide what to change and what to leave as it is.
I also submitted a partial you and you responded with a comment and an invitation to resubmit. Even though I have reworked the chapter in question, I haven’t resub’d back to you because I’m not sure I completely understood your comment and I don’t want to hack you off by sending you emails to question you about it.
sigh…
Sam J. M. says
Sometimes it all comes down to desperation. If i’ve exhausted other avenues and still haven’t found a home for the story (or whatever), I’ll go ahead and make some suggested changes I might not be super gung ho about.
Sam Hranac says
I thrive on the advice my crit group provides, but I do not take it all. Some of what they give me is a slam dunk. Some of it, I say thank you, and continue on without touching it.
Some of it, I have to study. This is some of the best stuff, even if I don’t use it in the very chapter they were critiquing. Advice that makes me sit back and challenge assumptions always makes me grow as a writer. Now and then, I take such advice and try it on, like a shirt in the store. I play with it, re-writing a chapter here and there. Even if I don’t use it today, the experience has helped me to grow.
At the end of the day, it is my story. I use what I want and I thank my crit group for all of it.
Aimless Writer says
First I see who is giving it. Published author? Agent? Editor? I take them all very seriously.
Joe schmoe on the street? I look to see where it comes from? Is Joe an avid reader? Writer?
Is he telling me he can’t picture my character or that I use the word f*ck and its offensive to him?
Then I carefully consider the advice. Would this really improve my work? Would their advice work with my story?
I hope I always keep an open mind. You never know where/when you’ll get that little nugget of advice that will make your story glow. I think a writer always needs look for ways to improve her craft. Did Davinci ever stop striving to be greater?
Emily says
To be quite honest, a lot of factors go into the decision making process.
1. The Adviser – a lot depends on WHO is giving me the advice. I have certain people that I know will be able to spot a plot hole instantly, so I will take their advice about that. Others that have demonstrated a grasp of grammar and nit-picky stuff will be listened to for that information. But these people have to earn my trust. If a random person tells me “I think you should make Bob marry Jane” I will roll my eyes and think, *Uh, huh.* But if an editor or agent were to tell me that, I’d be scribbling notes. *Must make Bob propose to Jane….*
2. The circumstances – would the changes drastically alter my plot/characters? If so, then a lot more thought goes into the decision. If not, and the change makes sense, then I’m all for it.
3. The vibe – if something about the advice just seems wrong, I’ll hesitate before altering anything.
4. My mood – if someone tells me that I should change my main character and I’ve just had a long day… well, then the adviser should either run or be prepared to be snarled at. 🙂
Melanie Avila says
I seem to fall among the majority of people here. I have one reader who, without fail, finds every section I cut myself some slack on (as someone else said) and I almost always take her advice.
I had another reader I stopped using because she couldn’t seem to form sentences in her own work (a lot of grammatical errors) and I rarely agreed with her suggestions. Often she questioned things that were explained in the previous page, which made me think she wasn’t paying much attention.
I’d like to think I can take criticism, as long as it’s constructive and actually helps.
Angie says
First, I’m more likely to take advice from someone giving me money. [wry smile] I’ve accepted changes from editors I’ve worked with on getting stories ready to be published which I’d have rejected coming from someone in a workshop or whatever. A lot of suggested changes (no matter where they come from) are just matters of taste or personal style or whatever, and I prefer mine unless someone’s about to hand me a check. I’ll still squawk some changes an editor suggests, but I work hard on not being a PITA writer from my publisher’s POV.
Other than that, it depends on whether I can see the reasons for the suggested change. I won’t change anything just because someone else thinks I should (unless they’re handing me money, as above), but if they have a good reason for the change, then I’ll strongly consider it.
If someone says, “I don’t like Joe’s dialogue,” I’ll thank them for their comment and move on. If someone says, “Given what you’ve shown us about Joe’s background, his education level, the fact that we never see him reading books or anything like that, I don’t think his vocabulary fits him, as in these examples…” and then references specific lines — that I’ll listen to. Maybe I’ll change Joe’s dialogue, or maybe I’ll add a line or three to show that yeah, he actually does have his nose in a book whenever he’s not busy with something else, since that’d been in my head all along but I just hadn’t gotten around to putting it down in phosphor, oops. But in general, a specific point made with logical reasoning and examples attached will always get more of my attention than a vague generality.
Sometimes a person’s suggestion will be completely off the mark, but the reason they’re making it will be significant. If someone misunderstands a plotline or a character so badly that they suggest a “fix” that’s totally wrong, I’m not going to take their specific advice but I probably will go back and fix whatever miscommunicated or overly subtle points sent them down the wrong path in the first place. These kinds of comments are very useful, even if the specific suggestion made is worthless.
I don’t really worry about who it is who’s making a suggestion. A big-name writer is just as likely to make a suggestion which doesn’t fit with my story or my way of telling it, and a reader who’s never written a word of fiction in her life is just as likely to ask a vital question or put her finger on something confusing that needs to be smoothed out. I welcome constructive criticism from anyone, whether friend or stranger or anonymous commenter. Unconstructive criticism is ignored with equanimity. 🙂
Angie
Keri Ford says
If it makes sense and makes me go, “dang, I wish I woulda thought of that,” then I take the advice. If it leaves me with pursed lips and squising eyebrows, then it’s probably a good idea to leave it alone.
Tammie says
Every now and again I hear someone tell another writer, a new writer to stay away from writing First Person.
And yet every book I seem to enjoy more than others is written in First Person.
I would just hope new writers don’t take everything they hear/read as being written in concrete.
Henry says
I agree with many of the responses. Taking advice is a hard thing to do. A new website that seems like it could help people with that is http://www.writiki.com. It’s a writing wiki where ANYONE can edit your work. It might take a bigger person not to get offended but it can be neat to see people’s take on your own writing. They are also partnering with a coffee roasting company to give away prizes to the first 100 contributors.
Linnea says
That’s a tricky one. When I’m shopping my manuscript, I take careful note of the reasons for rejection. If I find more than one person commenting on the same thing I make revisions accordingly. Generally, though, the person I trust the most is my editor. His sole purpose is to make the story saleable. I don’t make every change he suggests. All changes are thoroughly discussed beforehand. I’m pretty flexible and so far no blood’s been spilled !!
Sandra Gail Lambert says
I use the Defensive-O-Meter method for critique I don’t agree with. If I just think “oh, they’ve missed the mark” and smile politely, then I’m probably right. However, if I think that not only their comments but they themselves are so way stupid, then, well, maybe, possibly, there might be just a chance that I should pay heed.
Shannon Yarbrough says
Like most here have already said, I think it depends on the source.
Case in point: I recently put a few chapters of my novel on youwriteon.com. I’ve received 8 reviews so far, and of the ones that were quality reviews…
1. There were a few that pointed out the same things to me again and again and had things in common from other reviews I’d received.
2. Then there were some that brought new things to my attention that no other review had pointed out yet.
3. And some picked at stuff that worked well as is, but they just didn’t get it because they were only reading the first 3 chapters.
don allen says
I think there’s something in the back of your head that tells you when the writing isn’t where it’s supposed to be, but you need to hear it. I love and crave criticism because you can’t make something better if you don’t know what’s wrong. You can disagree, but at least someone has pointed out something that you have to look at – that’s great-Unfortunately, too many people either don’t know when something is bad or don’t want to hurt you feelings. What I don’t like about agents criticism is vagaries. Ex. “In the end, the sum total of the work didn’t add up to enough. WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN? If you don’t like it just say it sucks and move on.
Susan Helene Gottfried says
ALWAYS trust your gut.
If the criticism’s good, it’ll make the creative wheels start churning and your gut goes, “this is good stuff. Keep at it.”
If the criticism sucks, well, your gut will know that, too.
Mystery Robin says
What I believe is that if a reader thinks there is a problem, then there is – at least for that reader and it’s important to listen. However, the fix is up to the writer. So, if the advice is: the ending doesn’t make any sense, and a paragraph where you explain thus and so – you need to address the ending not making sense, but not necessarily in the way suggested.
Paradox says
I listen to advice when I know it’s right. I ignore advice when I know it’s wrong.
If I have any doubt, I re-write the entire section.
Jan says
One thing I’ve learned is that I have to listen to my gut.
That said – it depends on where the advice/criticism is coming from.
I’ve put my writing out there with hopes of getting constructive critiques and if I am hearing the same thing over and over – it is usually needed.
So I’d have to look at the source.
Katzie says
I try to look at my stuff objectively and see it through the advice giver’s eyes. It mostly depends on if the advice is grammar/editing related (which is generally easier to accept) or something more subjective, like something story-related. In that case, it depends on how vehemently they feel about the proposed change and how much personal taste factors in. Usually, though, since I can’t see the story with new eyes, it’s good to gain that perspective. Overall, it’s a reflection of me, so it always come down to what is the best for the story itself and I’m not afraid to compromise on or forego an element I liked if it makes the story better in the long run.