Scribophile, Critique Partners, and Better Chapter Ones

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Scribophile, a 2014 NaNoWriMo sponsor, asked one NaNoWriMo participant, Christina Dalcher, to share her experience with their online writing critique community:

I’d never written a piece of fiction in my life until August 2014.

Then I wrote a novel.

Let me be honest here: it stunk. Of course, I didn’t think it did. I thought it was the most creative, fresh, what-the-world-needs-now page-turner that would ever hit the market. So did my mother.

I went into a pitching and querying frenzy with a manuscript that was about as far from ready as it could be. Silly rabbit. I should have known better.

November rolled around, I put that piece of unready rubbish aside, and I signed up for National Novel Writing Month. In four weeks, I had a draft of an adult thriller. And no idea what to do with it.

That’s when the NaNoWriMo email showed up with a goodie-bag full of winner’s surprises. I didn’t think I needed any writing software (how little we newbies know!), and the fruits of November’s speedwriting efforts weren’t ripe enough to turn into an eBook—not even for Mom. I plucked one goodie from the bag.

Its name was Scribophile.

The Christmas decorations, the dog, the dinner, and my husband all waited patiently as I plunged the depths of critiquing and revising. I’ll confess—I had no idea what I was doing. In a previous life, I’d written a three-hundred page dissertation on Italian consonants (yes, really), graded students’ research papers, edited my colleagues’ work, and peer-reviewed journal articles. But I’d never lifted the heavy lids on the coffers of creative writing. Scribophile held my hand as I peeked inside.

There we were on our first day—me, my writing, and I—searching the spotlights for stories, casting critical eyes on the word-smithing of strangers, warily posting our own work for critique and commentary. Day One was scary.

Day Two went well. I picked out shorter pieces of writing to work on, looked for opening chapters of novels, and made sure to thank each and every one of my critiquers with both a personal note and a return of the favor. By evening, the Christmas decorations were still in their boxes and dinner was the farthest thing from my mind, but I had a tiny network of Scribophile pals and a better Chapter One. Not bad for two days’ work.

On Day Three, I woke to the three little words every writer wants to hear: Don’t burn it!

And that, fellow novelists, marked the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

Luck and timing and serendipity conspired in my favor, and—I’d like to think—in my new critiquing partner’s favor. Together, we raced through each other’s chapters, sometimes cringing, sometimes crying for more. Honesty comes so easily when you’re both strangers in the strange land of Scribophile.

Five weeks later, we’re still catching and correcting repeated words, POV drifts, telling-instead-of-showing, rambling run-ons, and ambiguous antecedents. We work on character development, story arcs, and plot holes. When something bugs us, we say it.

Five weeks later, I know I’ve got a better novel. And I know my partner does, too.

Naturally, our relationship isn’t a monogamous one. Thousands of people and stories are out there. And that’s really the joy of Scribophile—beautiful relationships may be waiting just ‘round the corner. As writers, we need as many of those relationships as we can get.

Who cares if we’re the only house on the street with its Christmas tree still up? I’ve got some critiquing to do.

Christina Dalcher has a doctorate in linguistics from Georgetown University. Her middle-grade nonfiction book, A Little Linguistics: Stuff they don’t teach kids about language, is currently represented. She’s now polishing up Lucky Thirteen, an adult thriller (featuring a linguist, naturally!). You can meet the protagonist, Dr. Daniela (Danny) Jones, and watch her catch the unhinged killer in this non-political suspense novel at Scribophile.com. If you’d rather meet Christina, you’ll find her at her site.