I’m currently getting feedback about my novel-in-progress from some trusted readers.
I’ve mentioned trusted readers before. As notes have come back to me, I’ve thought about what makes a trusted reader. The best advice I’d give to somebody wanting to be a trusted reader:
Tell the writer what’s wrong — not what you would do.
I’m lucky because I have trusted readers who know my writing. They call me out when I’m being lazy, and they can tell when what I’m trying to get at can be made a little stronger.
They don’t tell me what they would do with my story.
By that, I mean they don’t say things like:
- I would have made the protagonist female instead of male…
- I would have had them drive a Camaro instead of a Charger…
- I would have set the story in Montana instead of Oregon…
Those things are a personal preference. A trusted reader should be able to take their preference out of their reading and let the story stand on its own, offering suggestions to make things better based on what the writer created.
* * *
Now, there are instances when I hope a trusted reader does tell me what they would do with something I’m writing.
One of my trusted readers is a screenwriter/novelist named Mark Hosack.
Mark has made me a better writer several times in my life. With a couple suggestions, he made my favorite story I’ve ever written much better (even if it meant scrapping my favorite scene). As a kid, I bet Mark made cool things out of blocks because he has an uncanny ability of looking at the pieces of a story and knowing how they can be shuffled around and what needs to be added for a stronger foundation.
Mark is widely read and a bright guy. While he doesn’t tell me what he’d do based on personal preference, he makes suggestions based on his knowledge of various genres and knowing what I’m getting at. So in that way, he’s able to put himself in my place and tell me not what he’d do, but what I need to do.
[A shameless plug for a movie Mark recently wrote: Give ‘Em Hell Malone
* * *
Most of us have seen advice saying something along the lines of, “Don’t get feedback from your parents or spouses.”
By that, people mean, “Mom and Dad and your spouse love you, so of course they are going to say you are brilliant, even if you aren’t!”
One of the best bits of feedback I ever got from my wife went something along the lines of, “I don’t like the characters at all, but this is the best short story you’ve written to date.” (My mom has said similar things over the years.)
I think my wife’s feedback is the best example of what a trusted reader should do–she didn’t let her dislike of the subject matter affect her editing.
She was able to separate personal opinion from what was wrong and right.
* * *
I have another trusted reader named Mark, a friend who has been there almost since the day I decided to take writing seriously.
I’d be hard pressed to find a more widely read person no matter how far I traveled. His mind works in ways my mind doesn’t; if you cracked his head open, I’m convinced you would find a machine unlike any ever seen.
I don’t think any writer knows my writing and what I set out to do as well as this Mark.
When I’m writing something complicated, he is the audience I have in mind, the person I’m setting out to impress more than anybody else. When Mark critiques something I’ve written and gets to a place that I tried something new or gave it my all, I watch him closely.
Sometimes there’s a slight pause, a raising of the eyebrows with an intake of breath, and maybe even a slight grimace. He doesn’t need to tell me what to fix; simply knowing that look tells me I can usually make that section stronger.
And when he gets to one of those sections, pauses, and smiles a bit — I know I’ve impressed the guy I sometimes write for. (And I know I’ve done my job!)
* * *
Your goal as a trusted reader: be the reader writers sometimes write for!
Definitely all true, and it’s really interesting to hear what sorts of people writers have reading for them. Funny how often “prolific reader” comes up. I’ve actually got an older woman named Marcella who’s known me as long as I’ve been alive. She’s a recent cancer survivor with a debutant flair who’s always packed herself away in her small library with books stacked to the ceilings. Wisdom, insight, you name it.
Any more reader profiles you’d like to share with us? I’m glad your work is taking shape in such capable hands!
Jason:
Your trusted reader sounds great. I think prolific readers are important to hand manuscripts to because they are familiar with genres, cross genres, and things entirely their own thing. They are able to look beyond personal tastes and put a manuscript into the category of something similar and be able to compare it against competition, even if it’s not a conscious effort.
The first trusted reader I had was a creative writing teacher (the only creative writing class I took). She wasn’t out to teach us how to write; she was out to teach us how to meet deadlines, take criticism, and look around for things that would help up become better writers.
She was not a fan of genre fiction, but the one or two horror stories I wrote were judged fairly. That more than maybe anything, is what a trusted reader does. While she didn’t like genre fiction, she knew enough about what makes a good story and judged it on those elements. She was also flexible in the way she taught. She wanted us to read…a lot! I was deliberately trying not to read too much because I was a young writer and didn’t want to end up copying the voices of other writers.
Instead of making me read as assigned, another school had a week-long writer lecture series. She told me if I went to the lectures, she’d count them as reading assignments.
I saw a comedy writer, a playwright, and a very angsty writer speak. (Obviously, none of them too memorable, but I can remember some of the things I still picked up from watching them.) I also got to see Ray Bradbury speak and meet him; I got to watch Howard Nemerov pull poems out of a brown paper bag and read them and speak.
Having always read, I had a decent foundation as a writer. Seeing other writers speak all week when I was 20 (including a writer I really respected, in Bradbury), was a great rush. But more than that, having somebody who expected the best I could give (regardless of genre), and judged everything I wrote in a fair manner was the best part of that semester.
It made me seek out very intelligent readers who weren’t afraid to say, “This lags here and I know you can make it much stronger.”