Surviving the Full Force Gale of a Manuscript Critique

Manuscript critiques are difficult to read and absorb. Some time ago, I won a critique of the first chapter from my work in progress, and the truth in those brief edits was painful enough. Today, Vaughn Roycroft talks about living through and working with an editor’s study of a whole novel in progress. His post is one you’ll want to bookmark, print out, and tape to your desk for that day when an editor’s notes grace your inbox.

The Wind In My Sails: Ever feel like your fiction-writing career is adrift? I did. I had a finished manuscript I believed in, a binder full of notes on beta-reader feedback, and only a file full of rejections to show for it. Sometimes you need a guiding hand to get back on course.

A big part of my recent writing journey has involved the mentorship of my editor, Cathy Yardley, which I wrote about over at Writer Unboxed. Hiring a pro and undergoing a developmental edit has been the driving force behind my effort to make my work seaworthy for publication.

Christi saw the WU post and invited me to expand on the actual process of being professionally critiqued and putting the results into beneficial use.

All Hands on Deck: For the sake of the discussion, let’s assume you’ve already found a good match in an editor—a vital component of having a successful critique experience. If you haven’t yet, there are a lot of good articles about finding the right fit in a freelance editor, including here. If your mind still boggles at the idea of choosing, a good first step would be to join the Writer Unboxed facebook group. There are at least a dozen talented freelance editors in the group, and many of them regularly contribute to the conversation. It’s a relaxed forum for getting acquainted.

Red FlagRiding Out the Storm: So you’ve sent out your baby and the day finally comes. The reply email arrives. Trust me, there’s a storm on the horizon. You won’t know how severe it’ll be, but you are bound to be rocked. Any sailor worth his salt knows to prepare for the worst and hope for the best, right? Get to a safe harbor, weigh anchor, and batten down the hatches.

In other words, make sure you are in the right place, with the right amount of time, and in the right frame of mind to open your critique. Don’t excitedly start reading it on your iPhone at a dinner party. Make yourself comfortable. You should probably be alone, preferably with nothing pressing on your schedule. Every editor is different, but in my case, Cathy has provided a critique document as well as notations throughout the accompanying manuscript. Let’s assume you’ll receive the same. When you’re ready, open and slowly read the critique document. Breathe. Cathy’s critiques are broken down into characters, plot, and writing. Once you’ve read the critique doc, open and scan the notes in the manuscript, but don’t dawdle or linger on any certain point. Keep breathing. Just let the storm wash over you.

Taking Stock: If you’re anything like me, you’ve totally focused on the negatives and breezed over the positives. Now that you’ve experienced the full turbulence of the negatives, get up and walk the decks. Seriously, go out and take a long walk. It’s a great way to process what’s happened. You’ve been rattled, sure, but I’m willing to bet you’re still afloat. Nothing that can’t be repaired, right?

Now go back and read it all again. This time force yourself to focus on the positives. Repeat them aloud, jot them down, whatever it takes. Just force yourself to see the calm sea ahead. You’ve survived the storm. You will sail again.

Put It in Dry-dock: Now it’s time to step away. Resist the temptation to act impulsively. You need time to find your way from reactive defensiveness—or worse, overreaction—to proactive analysis. Unless there’s something horribly amiss, no matter how you feel about the experience so far, your only interaction with your editor at this point should be a thank-you note with your payment for services rendered. Go do something totally different. For me, the perfect getaway project is woodworking. Paint something. Strip and refinish a dresser. Replant a garden bed. Anything but obsess about your writing. Focusing your attention elsewhere will take the sting out of the critique. Trust me, your subconscious will still be working on analyzing the problems and seeking solutions. How long you will need may vary, but I need at least two weeks.

I know I’m ready to go back when the stinging problems have become no more than straightforward obstacles to be overcome. Since you’re in dry-dock, go through and make the obvious and easy fixes. No major overhaul, just the simple stuff—clunky sentences, grammatical errors, minor inconsistencies, etcetera.

Take the Voyage as a Passenger: Now it’s time to carefully read your full manuscript with your editor’s notations. But make a concerted effort to read it through her eyes. Take notes regarding the possibilities for changing the crew or plotting a new course, but don’t make those changes now. Just take the voyage of your story with the full knowledge that you can make it better for the next passenger. Get your sea-legs back by walking the decks often. Again, seriously, take a lot of long walks (or runs, or whatever you do) throughout this step. Bring aboard the advice that resonates, regarding the elements your gut tells you need to change. Jettison the rest.

It’s Time to Rebuild: After all of this, you may have some questions for your editor. Plus you’ve had time to cool your engines, so those questions are more likely to be born of proactive analysis than reactive defensiveness. Although Cathy has happily answered any questions I’ve posed via email, she also offers a paid one hour phone conference I like to utilize. Before I start revising, I set up the call. I have my notebook full of questions, and she lets me prattle on for the first ten minutes. I try to keep my prattling to proactive analysis, but she’s been known to talk me down from overreaction. Then we dissect the issues and hone the proper approaches to solutions.

This is the time to decide on the big stuff. Have you started in the right place? Does your inciting incident engage and entice readers? Do your characters’ motivations line up with their internal and external goals? Is your black moment truly black? Does each of the main characters undergo real change to make their arc satisfying?

Once you’ve worked though the big picture issues, you’ve survived the full force gale. It’s finally time to start your rewrite.

Thanks, Christi, for having me!

Your turn at the Helm: Have you ever been adrift? Have you had a full manuscript critique, or considered it? If you’ve had one, how’s the sailing been since? If not, think you’ll weather the storm?

In the sixth grade, Vaughn’s teacher gave him a copy of The Hobbit, sparking a lifelong passion for reading and history. After college, life intervened, and Vaughn spent twenty years building a successful business. After many milestone achievements, and with the mantra ‘life’s too short,’ he and his wife left their hectic lives in the business world, moved to their getaway cottage near their favorite shore, and Vaughn finally returned to writing. Now he spends his days polishing his epic fantasy trilogy. You can learn more about Vaughn on his website.

* Photo credit: joe_milkman on flickr.com

28 Replies to “Surviving the Full Force Gale of a Manuscript Critique”

  1. I love your analogies! I have to say you give great advice, too. I’m one of those read through right away people (within reason – I can’t on my phone!) and then have the knee jerk reaction. However, I remind myself that I asked for it and I better take advantage of the help, instead of dismissing it. That usually gets me in the frame of mind to go back and read it slower, and see the places that the critique is straight on and if I change things it will make the story stronger. Then I get excited about making it better and can’t wait to get started. The funny thing – no matter how many times I have my writing critiqued, the process of receiving the critique back is always the same. 🙂

    1. Me too, Lara–always the same response. I have, at least, trained myself not to open until I’m in the right frame of mind. My wife taught me the part about going back through focused on the positives. She’ll read the same notes, and be jubilant while I’m moping and wringing my hands. Thanks for sharing!

      1. Yes, Vaughn, the suggestion not to open the email right away was one I also needed to read. And, the bit about your wife…another great reminder. It’s so easy to glue ourselves to the negative; It’s nice when we have someone close at hand who can reel us back in 🙂

  2. Vaughn always has such profound insights and good advice! I haven’t gotten to the beta reader stage yet, but I know it will be a little scary. I got nervous just reading his description.

    1. Well, if I can be as insightful and yet kind and supportive as you were with mine, you have one beta reader you don’t need to fret over. 🙂 Can’t wait! Thanks, Valerie!

  3. You bring up a lot of great points — especially making sure you’re in the right frame of mind. I’ve never had an entire novel manuscript critiqued, but I’ve had short stories, articles, and chapters kindly, but truthfully, reviewed. Some eventually made it to print, and others died slow painful deaths in my “misfit ideas” folder.

    1. I think it’ll be much easier for you, having taken the path of building up to it in stages, Amanda. My first experience was a full ms, and it was a lot to take in. Love the idea of “misfit ideas.” Sort of like the island on Rudolph. 🙂 Thanks for reading and commenting!

  4. In my Haole Wood manuscript, the amazing editor, Dave Malone, cut out so much *good* stuff I could write a sequel. Unfortunately, he was just what I needed. (And for the record, when I get cranky and feel “adrift” I sometimes put my husband in dry-dock!)

    1. Hola, Dee! Don’t you hate that, how they cut all the *good* stuff? Cathy’s the same way. If only dieting worked as quickly as editorial cutting (“I lost 20% of my word count just like that, and you can too!”). It’s quick, but a bit painful, though. Being dry-docked by your spouse sounds sort of harsh, too. Please don’t blast his hull too often.

  5. Loved your comments about editing. Right now I’m setting my sails for just getting through the first edit. Figure I should do that before getting a professional opinion. I have way too many words and unnecessary scenes. I was fortunate to find someone who convinced me that my memoir can cover certain topics and not be the entire story of my life. Even so, it is tough navigating the rough waters of certain keys like delete. And it is easy to stray off course with your story line. I’m hoping to get to the port of a finished first draft in a few months, then will consider who to edit my story.

    I loved your sailing analogies. The first date my husband took me on was sanding barnacles on the bottom of his houseboat. We did go out to dinner afterwards :). Right now, because of kids, we don’t own a boat. I really miss being on the water.

    Heather

  6. Sounds like you’re taking the right tack, Heather. Definitely do all you can before paying for a pro. It’s tough to cut our own work, but think of it this way–if you pay by the page, you’re lowering your editing bill. 😉

    What a great first date (glad you got dinner out of it, though)! Hope you get out on the water again soon, and thanks for your great comment!

  7. Two days ago, I received my first critique from a professional editor. I chose her based on references and initial emails, but I like what I’d read beforehand about choosing an editor: it’s kind of like choosing a therapist–you won’t really know if you click until you jump in. I lucked out–she’s both supportive and critical at the right times. Her comments are both enlightening and also reinforce some things I really already knew (when you think about it, you usually have a feeling that something, somewhere just isn’t right). And she always, always approaches the conversation from the view that this is my novel and the choices are mine alone. Thanks for the post!

    1. Great analogy about the therapist. My gut told me Cathy was right for me, but I had no real evidence it would work out. I even tried to ‘scare her away’ in our first few emails, thinking she would shy from my genre’s tropes. But no. And I got lucky, too. That she starts every conversation with the choices being yours alone is so important. You did hit the jackpot, Jessica. 🙂 Thanks for sharing, and good luck moving forward!

  8. I always appreciate your ability to tackle a difficult subject and break it down into easily digested bites. The carpenter in you is still managing the big task with organized steps, appropriate prep work and selecting the best quality material & tools–and you always find a way to add in fun with your well-tuned analogies. Thanks for all the great advise, this one’s another keeper!
    May I add the seawater stings even as it heals? Sometimes we have to bear the pain to get to a better place. 😛

    1. So glad you found the post useful, D. Maybe it is the carpenter in me, but I get overwhelmed easily. I’m always looking for the steps to get through the tough stuff. Too true, regarding seawater, and the enduring pain being part of the process of growing and moving forward. Thanks for a great contribution to the lesson, my friend! 🙂

  9. I haven’t had a macro-critique on fiction yet. Just analysis of a scene or chapter. I found it nerve-wracking, exhausting, educational, but ultimately exciting. (I’ve been fortunate in that the people who were the least impressed with my work also had the most helpful insights.)

    I can’t imagine what I’d have felt like to go through my first experience on an entire novel. Maybe like losing one’s virginity at an orgy? (Sorry, Christi. Hope that’s not too over the line.) Anyway, you’re obviously becoming well-trained. Future editors will wax eloquent over your stoicism and want to send Cathy flowers. 🙂

    1. Lol, Jan! It’s certainly a colorful and evocative metaphor. There have often been times when my head is left spinning. And regarding being well-trained, I think the best part of writing it was reminding myself how to deal with it for the next round of criticism that is sure to come. Not that Cathy won’t deserve the flowers, of course. 🙂 Thanks, Jan!

  10. Hey Vaughn,

    Great advice, as always. I’m with you about saying thank you and letting the comments sit for a bit. I do that with my beta readers, too, and I find the comments that sting the worst on the first read are often the ones I find most useful later on.

    1. It’s the sad truth, isn’t it, Liz? The stuff that hurts to hear is the stuff we need most to hear. A wise friend of mine of mine once advise me to “lean into the pain” of a critique. I think she’s right. Thanks for sharing!

  11. I was asking clients how they felt when they got my first critique and one client said she got sick to her stomach. So I knew I was doing a good job. I love getting a critique or an edit. So much of what we write seems very clear in our own minds, but from another’s perspective, not so much. And a good editor can point out problems you didn’t even know you had.

    Great post, Vaughn.

    1. You’ve gotten to the essence of it, Karen. As Lisa Cron says, we all see the world differently, and it’s the storyteller’s job to get beyond those differences. We can’t do that without help.

      Thanks for doing what you do so well, Karen. And thank for weighing in.

  12. Oh gosh – I was holding my breath while reading this. I can’t imagine what I’ll do when Jennifer sends us back our 50 pages from the Sandy contest. Dear heavens. Great info/advice. Thanks, Ellen

    1. Hey Ellen! Did you see Nathan Bransford’s post today, where he talks about “living at the intersection of terror and joy”? Dear heavens, indeed. As I said in another reply, getting ready for Jennifer is one of the things that inspired this post.

      Glad you found it helpful. Batten down your hatches! 😉 Good luck!

  13. Vaughn … I’m happy to get a critique no matter how bad it is. I pout for a while and then go back. Sometimes I take their advice and sometimes I go with my gut and thank them, ignore their comments and only change what I really believe needed change. It’s a ying/yang … love/hate thing. We need feedback but crave approval. It’s learning how to balance the two that makes us stronger. Thanks for a great post 🙂

    1. Oh, I love the ying/yang analogy for it. You are spot on, Florence! I agree, I’m happy every time… Once the storm has passed. 😉

      Thanks so much for reading and for your insightful comment!

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