One of the things I love about being a writer is getting a fabulous new idea. There’s the anticipation of putting it down on paper, the pleasure of reading it and confirming that, yes, it was a great idea, and the anticipation of giving it to someone else to look over. There’s perhaps nothing better than having someone read your work and enjoy it, feel the emotional punch you felt as you wrote it, understand your characters and relate to them. I love it when I give a draft scene to someone, they read it and hand it back with a beaming smile, declaring it’s perfect, one of the best things they’ve read.

You can tell I write fiction, can’t you?

In reality I’ll probably receive my draft back with scrawled comments in the margins: notes about pacing, queries about motivation, comments on dialogue and so on. There will be positive comments too, since the people who read my work are constructive and helpful.  (Possibly too because I’m bigger than they are!)

So why do I do it? Why give my work out to be criticised? I’m asking people to find fault with it.

I’m not a masochist. Nor do I want to fill up as much time as possible before the trauma of actually sending a story off to my editor. It’s because I want my work to be the best I can get it before I cast it adrift among the sea of other manuscripts in that editorial office.

Everyone’s different. Many successful authors don’t show their stories to anyone but their editor. The process works for them and I think that’s terrific. Note, though, the words ‘successful author’ and ‘their editor’. These people are already extremely good at producing the sort of stories their publisher is seeking.

For those of us still working towards that, feedback can make the difference between a good story and one that’s accepted for publication. 

You write your first story and you’re so proud of yourself. As you should be. You send it to a publisher and it’s rejected. We all know what that feels like. Finally you overcome the desire for violent action, or to stay in a foetal position, devouring chocolate. You tackle a new story that’s better than the last. But your only feedback is another rejection or three.

What can you do? Lots of things. Reread the publisher’s guidelines and the books they’re publishing, go to workshops to hone your skills. And get some feedback on your work.  It’s important to discover what you can do to improve your writing. You might think you’ve got the ‘showing not telling’ down pat, that your pacing is snappy, your dialogue riveting and your characterisation realistic. So why not test it and see if others agree?

Why not?

Because you’re scared they won’t like it? Welcome to the world of writing for publication.  Isn’t it better to get that reaction from someone other than an editor?

Because they might steal your idea? The writers I know have neither the time nor the inclination to steal ideas. They’re busy grappling with their own. Besides, ideas can’t be copyrighted. Even if someone did write a story with a theme similar to yours, it wouldn’t be the same story.

Because you might not agree with what they say? That’s your prerogative. It’s your story. You’re just seeking another perspective.

Because you don’t know anyone you’d trust to give you decent feedback? Now that’s an interesting point.

How do you find such a person? There are lots of potential sources. You could try:

This leads us to the question of what you do with feedback. I’m not suggesting you accept everything you’re told and set out to amend every point. You will never satisfy every reader. The suggestions have to make sense to you. It’s your work. Nor do I suggest you read the comments, spend the rest of the week fuming about how little the person understood your story and never look at the suggestions again. A response somewhere between the two seems reasonable.

Try to understand exactly the issue that was raised. Read all the comments, or note them down as the group discusses them, then go away and think about something else. Distance can be a valuable tool. Come back a few days later and reread the notes. There could be points which now make better sense and which you could work on. If you’re lucky they’ll have picked part of the story that’s niggled you from the beginning and you’d hoped no one would notice. (Sound familiar?) Maybe they’ve given you a suggestion that will spark a new idea. Sometimes you’re not after a solution to a problem as much as identification of a problem that you can then work on.

I titled this piece Feedback is Your Friend (Most of the Time) for a reason. It’s reasonable to add a warning. If you give your work to someone who:

Ideally look for someone who:

Critique partners or groups aren’t for everyone. But if you’re hitting your head against a closed editorial door, collecting rejections, it’s worth finding a way to get feedback on your work. It may not be a long-term arrangement. It may not be on a whole story. Sometimes just talking your plot through with someone will identify weaknesses. A different perspective could be just the thing to help you over a difficult patch in your story.