Peg Herring's Blog - Posts Tagged "criticism"
Observations-You May Keep Them to Yourself
Two conversations I've had in the last week deal with other people's comments about oneself. The question that arose is why do people think they have to comment on what others do. Is it just a need to say something, or do they really feel that you need their advice? Those who make personal comments don't realize that it comes off as "I'm better/smarter/wiser than you, so I'm going to tell you how to become more like me."
Some examples: "Boy, you sure like to eat." "You should dump that guy. He's no good for you."
"I notice you wear a lot of black. Do you know that makes you look old?"
Nice people (like me) usually smile and change the subject or say something mildly defensive, like "I like black." But what we THINK is, "SHUT UP!"
Some examples: "Boy, you sure like to eat." "You should dump that guy. He's no good for you."
"I notice you wear a lot of black. Do you know that makes you look old?"
Nice people (like me) usually smile and change the subject or say something mildly defensive, like "I like black." But what we THINK is, "SHUT UP!"
Picky, PIcky, Picky
A friend told me yesterday that I have become a picky reader, and she's right. I've admitted as much in former posts. She, on the other hand, when asked what kind of books she likes, will ask in return, "Do they have words?" and then, "Are they in English?" Two affirmatives are enough to satisfy her.
Another friend in the industry often commiserates with me on the perils of examining the books we read. As writer and reviewer, the two of us find that we can't just relax and enjoy a book these days. The mind begins dissecting the plot, the characterization, the chosen storytelling method, and the writing style. And we want it all wrapped up in a neat package. While others wax eloquent on the charming description or the fascinating protagonist, I wonder why she didn't get some sort of negative vibe from living twenty years with a multiple murderer at the family picnics.
Do I realize that others like me are likely to mentally slice up my work the way I do when I read? Of course. It isn't likely that everyone is going to love every author, or even every work by a given author. I just hope there are a lot more readers in the world like the friend who calls me "picky", because my books do have words in them, and so far, at least, they're all in English.
Another friend in the industry often commiserates with me on the perils of examining the books we read. As writer and reviewer, the two of us find that we can't just relax and enjoy a book these days. The mind begins dissecting the plot, the characterization, the chosen storytelling method, and the writing style. And we want it all wrapped up in a neat package. While others wax eloquent on the charming description or the fascinating protagonist, I wonder why she didn't get some sort of negative vibe from living twenty years with a multiple murderer at the family picnics.
Do I realize that others like me are likely to mentally slice up my work the way I do when I read? Of course. It isn't likely that everyone is going to love every author, or even every work by a given author. I just hope there are a lot more readers in the world like the friend who calls me "picky", because my books do have words in them, and so far, at least, they're all in English.
Why Can't We All Just...Read?
There's been an extended thread on one of my chat groups about whether or not we all should hate THE SWEETNESS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PIE. Some say it's infantile and just wrong. Some say it's great. A few (and I fall into this group although I never get involved in such debates) say, in effect, "Different strokes for different folks." Yeah, like that.
I have hated books that the Reading World lauds to the skies. I have loved books that get little or no notice from said World. Being a big girl with a brain that can conjure, I recognize that books speak to us in different ways. Characters remind us of someone. Places appeal. Plotlines operate the way our minds do, and therefore please us. At a given time, we're ready for a bit of silliness or we're not.
What irritates me is the person who believes that his or her word on a given book is what the world is waiting for. Not only are they often small-minded and picky, they're often wrong about the details. Don't ask them to admit it, though.
My friend P.J. Coldren, who reviews for several respected mystery review sites, tells me that it's essential to separate your own opinion from the truth of the book, at least as much as humans can separate truth from opinion.
As an author, I choose not to blab about the books I dislike, knowing how painful it is to have your children criticized, whether that criticism is right or wrong. If I do admit that I didn't like a book, I'm careful to state it as my opinion. If a publisher, several editors, and any number of fans have read and enjoyed a book, it's likely to be my prejudices, idiosyncracies, and distractions that keep me from doing the same.
I have hated books that the Reading World lauds to the skies. I have loved books that get little or no notice from said World. Being a big girl with a brain that can conjure, I recognize that books speak to us in different ways. Characters remind us of someone. Places appeal. Plotlines operate the way our minds do, and therefore please us. At a given time, we're ready for a bit of silliness or we're not.
What irritates me is the person who believes that his or her word on a given book is what the world is waiting for. Not only are they often small-minded and picky, they're often wrong about the details. Don't ask them to admit it, though.
My friend P.J. Coldren, who reviews for several respected mystery review sites, tells me that it's essential to separate your own opinion from the truth of the book, at least as much as humans can separate truth from opinion.
As an author, I choose not to blab about the books I dislike, knowing how painful it is to have your children criticized, whether that criticism is right or wrong. If I do admit that I didn't like a book, I'm careful to state it as my opinion. If a publisher, several editors, and any number of fans have read and enjoyed a book, it's likely to be my prejudices, idiosyncracies, and distractions that keep me from doing the same.
Grouchy Reader Syndrome
Someone else named it, but it so fit me that I had to borrow it.
I've become a grouchy reader. Everything in a book has to work, or I'm angry at the author. Characters have to stay within their character, and there had better be at least one I can admire, maybe even like. I just finished one by an author who is admittedly great with words, but no one in the book was remotely admirable, so why should I care if they get involved in crime?
Plots have to work, and I can see it a mile away if you're stretching things so that the ending comes together the way you want it to. Mention that green sweater once too often, take a little too long describing the staircase to the basement, draw my notice to the picture on the bureau with too much detail, and I know it's the thread that's going to pull apart the whole veil of mystery.
I like setting stuff, but an author is wise to blend it with other stuff. Too many authors equate setting description with literary-ness and try for poetic expression of sunsets or vistas that don't fit well with the rest of the story.
For pity's sake, leave your political, societal, and psychological philosophies out of it. If I wanted a treatise on one of those things, I'd buy one.
And while I don't mind learning about crafts, history, and professions as I read, subject me once to an info dump and I'll never buy your books again.
After five decades of reading mysteries, I'm looking only for authors who can balance all these things and get them just right. There. Is that grouchy enough for you?
I've become a grouchy reader. Everything in a book has to work, or I'm angry at the author. Characters have to stay within their character, and there had better be at least one I can admire, maybe even like. I just finished one by an author who is admittedly great with words, but no one in the book was remotely admirable, so why should I care if they get involved in crime?
Plots have to work, and I can see it a mile away if you're stretching things so that the ending comes together the way you want it to. Mention that green sweater once too often, take a little too long describing the staircase to the basement, draw my notice to the picture on the bureau with too much detail, and I know it's the thread that's going to pull apart the whole veil of mystery.
I like setting stuff, but an author is wise to blend it with other stuff. Too many authors equate setting description with literary-ness and try for poetic expression of sunsets or vistas that don't fit well with the rest of the story.
For pity's sake, leave your political, societal, and psychological philosophies out of it. If I wanted a treatise on one of those things, I'd buy one.
And while I don't mind learning about crafts, history, and professions as I read, subject me once to an info dump and I'll never buy your books again.
After five decades of reading mysteries, I'm looking only for authors who can balance all these things and get them just right. There. Is that grouchy enough for you?
