Why a Critique Partner Can Be Better than a Writing Group

Writing doesn’t have to be a solo activity. In fact, creativity and productivity are often stimulated by writing with company. Today, participant Libby Mayfield shares why writing groups aren’t for her… but a critique partner is:

I wish I was the sort of writer who could romantically snatch a few minutes in a quaint coffee shop to combat writers block, but for me, the only way to write is to spend huge chunks of the day with my face two inches from a computer screen, powered purely by tea and pasta.

The last thing I need when I’ve finished this writing marathon and produced something I believe to be at least halfway to a masterpiece (I think the excessive tea consumption might make me a little delusional), is for a dozen people to shake their heads at me sadly and tell me I’ve run the wrong route.

When I tell fellow writers that I’m not part of a writing group, or that, no, I won’t show you any of my unpublished work, I fear they think I’m being a bit pretentious. Rest assured, I don’t think I’m better than you: I think I’m awful, and I’m phenomenally sensitive when it comes to criticism. 

“If I were J.K. Rowling and had to read at a book launch, I’d want to do it via telephone.”

Writing groups are not for me. Presenting people with my work in person terrifies me. If I were J.K. Rowling and had to read at a book launch, I’d want to do it via telephone.

I have one person I let read my work. He receives it as a message attachment in the middle of the night, whilst I hope that fate will intervene and the file won’t send or he’ll be asleep. If it gets the okay from him, I can breathe. If it gets the “I love that” stamp of approval, I dare to send it to friends less hyperaware of how a blasé comment may ruin my day, week, year.

I don’t need every aspect of my work to be complimented; I know if he says “It’s good, but…”, then it’s good. After that, I’ll take as much constructive criticism as needs be, as long as I have the “good” to focus on every time my determination to edit weakens.

It helps that my friend-meets-editor writes similarly to me. If I asked someone who writes a different genre to critique my work, and they subsequently ripped it to shreds, no matter how fair their criticism had been, I would inevitably yell, much like a toddler, “You just don’t get it!”

And why can’t I take criticism in person? Well, if it all goes badly, I reserve the right to cry into a pillow before calmly messaging back, “Ah, I see”.

Libby is a journalism student living in fear of completing university and succumbing to a nine-to-five job behind a desk. Prevention techniques include creating paintings and making music under the moniker Ayres, jumping on a train to another city in search of pancakes, tea and postcards as soon as a problem arises, and blogging about it all. She usually only has the attention span to write short stories so it’s a miracle she’s written two novels.

Top photo by Flickr user skippytpe.