The Feedback Conundrum

When you’re a writer, feedback is inevitable. Some of it is wonderful, some dire, all of it tainted in some way, no matter how well meaning the feedback-giver may be. Indeed, those good intentions may in themselves taint the feedback given.

Even if we refuse to seek feedback from our friends and family, we cannot avoid the response we will inevitably receive from various editors to whom we submit our work. Even a form rejection is feedback of a sort.

The problem is, of course, that even our own opinion of our work is tainted. We develop blind spots and tend to swing between conviction that our work is the best thing since Shakespeare, and a belief that it’s not fit for anything but lining the cat’s litter box. The truth is almost certainly somewhere in the middle. With all that in mind, what’s the point of seeking feedback?

Feedback is essential to all creatives. It can help us take our blinders off and see our work more clearly. Without feedback, how do we learn? Blind spots are called that for a reason, you know.

Good feedback — yes, it exists, though it is as rare as hen’s teeth — is invaluable. And if more than one of the responses you receive highlights the same issues, you can be fairly sure this is a worthy of your attention.

Here are some tips to help you navigate the turbulent feedback waters.

Select your feedback-givers carefully.

Ideally, you want someone who knows what they’re talking about. A reputable author, a creative writing teacher, or at least someone who is well read. These are the most likely to give you reliable feedback. Yes, they too will bring their biases, but most will try to be fair.

Members of your writing group may seem like a logical alternative, and they may well be. However, don’t overlook the possibility of jealousy, or even malice colouring some opinions.

Don’t expect your family or friends to give you an impartial evaluation. They want to be proud of you. Well, one would hope!

Decoding the message

If you’re receiving a response from someone who isn’t a writer, you can only ask them to tell you their reaction. A professional writer will offer an analysis containing the sort of language you would expect. They’ll talk about structure, plot, characterisation, and so forth. But the non-professional will frame their response in a reader’s terms. You can expect to hear things like, “I like it.” Or, “I don’t think I understood it.” Here are some commonly used phrases, and how you should interpret them:

“I couldn’t finish it.” The plot is dull. There isn’t enough action. There is too much exposition.

“I didn’t understand it.” The plot is over-complicated. Or the reader isn’t too bright.

“I kept getting the characters mixed up.” Your characters aren’t distinct enough, or maybe their names are too similar.

“The ending confused me.” It may be too vague or unnecessarily complex. Or it’s a reader issue.

“The girl was a bit wet, wasn’t she?” If you’re a man writing a woman, you might need to check your assumptions about women. If you are a woman, you need to check your assumptions about women.

“I didn’t think the hero would act like that.” Uh-oh. Are you forcing the characters to follow the plot, rather than be true to themselves?

“It was a bit wordy, wasn’t it?” You’ve probably gone overboard on the description and the exposition.

“You really love the word ‘nice’, don’t you?” Edit. Now!

“It was okay, just not my thing.” It was okay, just not my thing!

“I loved it!” I’m your mother.

Should you use a checklist?

This is a list of items that you want your readers to consider. It should include things like plot, character, structure, and so forth. Try to make it as accessible as possible. A general reader may not understand what you mean by theme, motif, or structure. Instead, ask things such as was the hero believable; did they find the ending satisfying; what did they like best / least about it.

The only problem I find with a checklist is it gives no room for the reader to react to things outside your list. They won’t think to tell you that the side-kick is a more believable hero than the protagonist. Or that they were rooting for the bad guy. If you do use a checklist, leave room for the reader’s other thoughts and suggestions.

Also, keep it fairly brief. A three-page, single-spaced list is guaranteed to send would-be readers running for the hills.

Putting it together

Try to get feedback from at least three sources, if possible. Look out for the things they agree on, whether they’re good or ill.

Remember, feedback isn’t editing. The editor will do a line-by-line evaluation, pointing out spelling or .factual errors. A good editor will tell you the heroine was a redhead on page 12, but a brunette on page 81. These sort of catches are invaluable, but don’t be upset if your readers don’t comment on them. And be very grateful if they do.

No matter how good, bad, or terrifying the feedback may be, be grateful for it. Someone has done you a big favour by reading your work and sharing their honest opinion. No, you may not like it (unless it’s your mum), but you should still acknowledge the time they spent.

And if you’re really hungry for an in-depth appraisal, there are plenty of companies who will do just that. For a fee.

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