It’s been a while since I’ve posted here. I’ve been writing more on my novel this past week. Then today dawned stormy, starting out with thunder, wind and rain, a good day for putting on a sweater and gloves to sit on the front porch and think.
I’m contemplating the pros and cons of writers’ critique groups. They have an essential value I can’t deny, and I’ve sometimes wondered why it took me so long to find one. I find my group extremely helpful in showing me where I’ve left something important unsaid, or I haven’t painted a picture, or explained clearly, or I’ve worded something so it reads as comedy when I meant it to be serious (and vice versa).
Yet there are times when there’s simply nothing to do but keep writing that draft and wait, give it time to gestate, coalesce, and become a story, before presenting it for review. There are times in the life of a novel when it’s too insubstantial yet to hold up under criticism.
I see first drafts that way. When I’m in a first draft, I’m not yet convinced I have a story worth continuing. Requiring it to be anything but an embryo is asking too much. Going back to my construction analogy, you don’t ask someone how they like your new house when all you have is a concrete slab.
Even in a second draft, where I am now, it’s difficult to have chapters reviewed that I don’t consider close to being finished. I tend to focus on the building blocks, at this point, and on decorative work later—except when I’m in a creative flow*.
Then there’s the problem of the internal editor, already an excessively noisy—and nosey—companion in my writing corner. Add to my own editorial voice a group of people whose opinions I value. This makes me rethink the usefulness of the critique group as it relates to creativity. I notice a tendency to consider them while I’m in the flow, a time when I need my creative juices to move freely, to have no editor. Writing in the flow should be a highly focused meditation, a process of simply typing, creating a story and its unique world. I find myself hesitating in this process, second-guessing how well what I’m writing will be received by the group. It’s not them doing this. It’s me. It’s a new internal voice that I need to silence while I’m writing. I’m not sure yet how to do that. I’m curious if other writers who belong to critique groups experience this problem.
*Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi explored the flow experience in his book, Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience, among other works.
1.
Some say that awareness is the first step. What’s the next step? What do you do to keep ‘the editor’ out of your mind during flow? What’s different with ‘the internal group critique’ versus ‘the editor’?
Comment by Ken — November 23, 2004 @ 6:53 pm
2.
The first time I read to the only critique group I have ever joined, it was a disaster. I left the room in tears. A self-confessed novice, I was unimpressed with them and myself.
After I reviewed and ruminated the critiques I received that evening, I found a lot of the feedback helpful. I felt like a ninny for personalizing their well-meaning critiques.
Still…I find the whole concept and process impossible. The members of my group represent every kind of genre imaginable – consequently, none of us truly ‘connect.’ The critiques tend to be subjective instead of objective-Some are sophomoric, and some people seem to come out of left field with the most inane observations – mostly due to the time lapse between readings. I always use the proverbial sifter and am able to find useful tidbits of information to apply. I am beholden for those assists.
Nonetheless, I plan to go solo, sort of. Something simply does not feel right about critique group dynamics. I prefer paying someone to critique and line edit – all drafts, and I have a few people in my life that I trust to provide brutal insights. When I did this with my first novel, it was read from stem to stern at the usual pace one reads a novel. There was continuity to the reading and the feedback was equally smooth and not befuddled. My paid critique was extremely helpful with suggestions regarding all facets of the book – character development, elimination of passive phrasing, adding historical background, and suggesting areas where dialog was needed. I was given advice where I could cut or add, spice up or speed up and hints for keeping a proper voice and era speak. It was worth every reasonable penny. I simply feel more comfortable one-on-one. A group seems to feed on itself and build to a crescendo of mixed messages. Sometimes my ‘sifter’ isn’t big enough!
I should add that I don’t bring much value to a critique group either – it’s not all about them. I have a lot of trouble listening to someone speed read, then giving a lucid critique. I ain’t good at this at all. I become as sophomoric and inane.
Critique groups are probably good for most people. I am far too independent and find the readings distracting to my flow. I believe this is what Barbara meant by the disruption to flow.
Shame is, I met some swell folk and enjoyed the camaraderie…
In fact, thanks for listening to me. I plan to stick with them, the critique group. Their tidbits are often golden. And we’re all working our asses off trying to be the best possible.
Comment by Reenie — January 1, 2005 @ 9:08 am