Roseanna M. White is a bestselling, Christy Award nominated author who has long claimed that words are the air she breathes. When not writing fiction, she’s homeschooling her two kids, editing, designing book covers, and pretending her house will clean itself. Roseanna is the author of a slew of historical novels that span several continents and thousands of years. Spies and war and mayhem always seem to find their way into her books…to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary. You can learn more about her and her stories at www.RoseannaMWhite.com.
Back in the day, I had this idea that what I wrote was exactly what I should have written. Though I’d never put in exactly this way, I treated my words as sacred—they were mine, they were precious, and they were right. Perhaps not perfect—I would grant that typos and mistakes needed fixed. But the thoughts, ideas, word choices? I clung to them. I’m talking fists tight around them.
Which was fine back in the day, when the stories were just for me. But eventually I realized that if I wanted to be published, if I wanted to work with an editor, if I wanted to grow and improve, if I wanted readers to seek my books out, then I had to learn how to loosen my grip. I had to learn how to make my stories not just MINE, but for other people too.
To some of you, this will sound like a no-brainer. I’ve met plenty of authors who always toss wide the doors and say, “Give me your advice!” Sometimes those people can then be so eager to make changes that they try to incorporate every bit of feedback they get, which of course doesn’t work either. But today we’re going to focus on the other kind of writer. The kind that will fight tooth and nail over what word to use in a sentence. I was that kind. Maybe you are too.
I was already well on my way to correcting this in myself when I realized why I really wanted to. I was at a book event at a local library. I had one book out from our small press, but I’d been submitting to big houses for a couple years and was beginning to learn the ropes. The other authors at this small-town event were also small press or indie published, and when one of them was speaking to the group, he said something along the lines of, “No editor is ever going to tell me how to write my book. I’d rather do it myself and have it be exactly what I want.”
This is a sentiment I’ve heard from other authors over the years too. And one that I have decided I don’t want to echo. Why? Because other people make us better. Better people—and better writers. A book written in the echo chamber of your own mind will never be what it could be if you let other perspectives have a voice in its creation as well—because you simply don’t have those other perspectives, and that’s what makes a story rich.
When I first started working with critique partners (Stephanie and a few others), it took some work on my part to accept what they were saying. My first, gut reaction was always an argument. But no! I like it THIS way. Or And you think you know better than me WHY?? But here’s the thing—whenever you’re coming at something from a step removed, you have a better perspective. We get so close to what we’re writing that we can’t see the bigger picture sometimes. It takes that distance to see the problems and know how to fix them, and learning to accept that is a HUGE part of growing as a writer.
And really, it all comes down to these questions: Why are you writing? Who are you writing for? If it’s just for you, then you’re the only one you have to please. But if you want others to read it, then you have to keep those “others” in mind too.
As an editor with WhiteFire Publishing, I see authors all over the scale on this. Some flat-out refuse to change their work—guess who we’re NOT going to publish, then? Some say they love edits, but come back and argue with every single piece of advice we give them. Others love the idea but struggle to know how to incorporate them—these are usually new authors who have the right attitude, they just haven’t learned yet how to take ideas, let go of “the way it is” in their books, and execute the changes.
Then there are the pros. These aren’t necessarily the authors who’ve been at it the longest, they’re just the ones who come at it with the right attitude AND creativity. These are the authors who look at an editor’s advice, consider it in terms of their story, and can brainstorm how to incorporate it in a way that makes the heart of the story all the stronger. These are the authors every editor wants to work with.
This is the sort of author I want to be. The kind I decided I would be. The kind I’ve been trying to become a little more with each manuscript, each content edit, each line edit.
So how do we grow from “I won’t change a word” to “bring on the edits!”? Here are a few steps I’ve found to be helpful.
- Set yourself a time limit for arguing—get it out of your system. Maybe it starts as a day, then an hour, then you can shrink it down to a minute. Get those objections and “But, but, but…” moments out—then tell yourself, “Okay, let’s do this.”
- Find a few voices, at first, that you trust to be your readers, critique partners, and editors, and see where they agree. Start there.
- For every change that’s recommended that makes you want to argue, ask, “What is the purpose of this section? Does what I have now achieve that purpose? Is it necessary? Will the change achieve it better?”
- View it as creation. The editing process is actually just recreation, so stop thinking of it as “changing your story” and start thinking of it as “exploring new possibilities for your story.” That can really make it fun!
- Repeat after me: “My words are not sacred. They can be changed.” The world won’t come to an end (and neither will the heart of the book!).
- Remind yourself that a book is bigger than one person, even the author. So it takes the perspective of more than one person to do it honor. And know that your story deserves that honor!
Learning how to take critique and edits was a process for me—but it was a process that started with a single decision: that I would not be that kind of author. I’d be the kind that other authors and editors want to work with, knowing that in the long term, that would also make me the kind of authors readers love to read.
Do you struggle with receiving feedback on your stories or do you welcome it?
Thanks for this post!! I’m pretty good at taking feedback, I just, like one of the examples, have a hard time knowing how to change it. See I’ve gotten the advice that my characters need to be more developed (won’t argue there), and then I asked how should I make them more developed and get nothing. Then I’m stuck with a lot of questions. But now I’m going to take your steps and make my book better!!! Thanks again. ?
I’m rather self-critical of my own work, so taking criticism hasn’t been very hard for me yet. I find that right after I finish something I think it’s really great. Then the next time I read it–even if it’s the next day–I can see some of the problem areas. I’m learning to fight the urge to send my writing “hot off the press” to my friend, and instead wait. That way I’m more humble to receive feedback and my words aren’t as precious.
I think a good critique partner is someone who honestly likes your writing for your writing and not just because you’re friends and someone you don’t mind receiving negative feedback from.
For the most part, I welcome it. I really welcome it when it’s constructive. If someone can say “this isn’t working, here’s how to fix it.” Those Are ones I love to brainstorm with.
I’m at a point where I don’t know what my strengths and weaknesses are. Feedback helping me clarify that is what I’d respond to best at the moment.
If someone were to say “this is plain terrible” I wouldn’t argue but I’d feel terrible.