5 Ways to Argue with Criticism
When it
comes to getting feedback, the stigma and regulations on the author are thick
and overwhelming. With the (not necessarily wrong) assumption that the creator
will throw himself a big fat tantrum at every less than positive tone, the idea
of arguing with a person’s response is considered impolite and immature.
But it
doesn’t have to be that way. In fact, it shouldn’t. The common belief is that
when receiving a reaction to a work, the mastermind behind it should have his
hands folded lightly in his lap, smile and nod, and not say a word, then choose
to regard or disregard it later. Often in creative writing classes the teacher
will insist on this.
“Arguing”
shouldn’t be hostile. It should be a form of discussion in which the
participants debate on the subject. They could both be right. They could both
be wrong. The advice could be right but the motivation wrong, or the
vice-versa. Of course the author has the option to not use it if he doesn’t
feel it is right, but it is just as equally as important for him to understand
it first. That requires discussion.
It is
important to be courteous and grateful to the critic; he is giving the author
his time, and even when it seems to be more because he is forced to by the
class or enjoys tearing work apart (which is often the case), the writer must
make him feel as though his feedback is useful. Pissing him off won’t get her
anywhere. (Of course, if it is someone whom she didn’t ask, then that might be
a whole different ballgame.)
1.
Understand how people listen.
A typical reason feedback sessions fall apart is because of the way we listen
to each other. When the author gives a critic her work and
then the critic responds, the author doesn’t hear what he is saying, she hears
“I think positively,” or “I think negatively.” Any negative response translates
into, “I hate it.”
This is
not irrational because often that is what it means. However, it makes it so the
author can’t use the criticism and the whole conversation goes to waste.
But
that’s not the important part. The important thing is that the critic is doing
the same thing. When an author responds, the critic doesn’t hear what she is
saying, he hears “I agree,” or I don’t agree.”
So he
tells her, “There are too many characters.” She hears, “I didn’t like it.
Here’s one reason.” So she says, “I don’t think that it would fix the problem,”
meaning “You can’t hate it just because of that.” He hears, “You’re wrong.”
Fight ensues.
If the
author can phrase her response in a way that doesn’t sound like, “You’re
wrong,” then the critic will be more open to listening.
2. Be
honest.
A good start to a friendly discussion is by telling the truth. When giving
out a story, a writer needs to ask herself what she wants from the reader. Does
she want feedback? Does she want reassurance? Often times we are just proud of
what we’ve done and want to show it off. If that is the case, ask for that.
It is
okay to say, “I’m proud of this; will you read it?” We tend to shy away from
being straightforward about our needs, but you will get what you ask for. When
saying you want feedback, you will get feedback. And if what you need is an ego
booster, then they need to know.
Whenever
I give out my work, I always say, “Be nice, but be thorough.”
I know I
will start to tune out if my feelings get hurt. I
don’t want harsh criticism; I want specifics. “Your leading man has a girl’s
name and that bothers me,” is more helpful then, “I hated your hero.” It often
makes the critic feel more comfortable in that we have all been burned by
the author who asks for feedback and is upset when she gets it.
This
doesn’t just have to be about what the author asks for, it can be about why she
doesn’t want to use a piece of advice. We often shy away from our real reasons, feeling as though they won’t convince the other person. We can’t say, "I don’t
want to cut because I like it," because they’ll argue with us, and it
will go around and around and around.
When
they tell us, “You have too many characters,” the response, “I like the number of
characters,” is acceptable. Not only is it her story, but she is clearly not
understanding why the critic thinks it is important. He may be right, but it is
important for her to comprehend the problem he is trying to solve, and for him
to comprehend what she wants from the book before they can come to the best
solution.
Of
course, we just have to phrase it in a way that doesn’t sound like we’re
arguing with them. Which is why it is important to:
3. State
the intention.
This is an important part for an author to create a friendly debate. Explaining
what she was attempting to do is not an argument, therefore it is not saying
the critic is wrong.
For
instance, if he was to tell her, “There are too many characters,” and she was
to say, “That was the point,” he’d feel as though she was dismissing his
suggestion.
If she
were to tell him, “Well, I wanted to tell the whole story from different points
of view because it was more about the events than the characters,”
he is less likely to feel as though she’s saying, “Wrong!”
He is
likely to disregard it still, but his response is less likely to be hostile.
In my
experience, the response to “That was the point,” is either for the reviewer to
shut down or get defensive. Neither of which is helpful, where as the response
to explaining my feelings is an explanation of his feelings:
“Because
there was so many people, I didn’t really feel on the side of any of them.”
This,
she can work with. Instead of deleting characters, she may make teams, this
half against that half. Or, she can spend more time with a specific character.
Now she has a number of options because she understands what she's trying to fix instead of just doing what she's told and hoping it will work.
Which
leads us to the ultimate solution:
4. Ask
“What is the problem you’re trying to solve?”
When the
writer finds herself so confused on why the critic finds it so important, this question is a straightforward way to get an answer.
Many
times feedback comes in the form of a solution of the problem. Often, the
critic isn’t aware of the problem itself, but he knows what might help.
Having
“too many characters” is not an issue with a story. Cutting them out, as implied, is a
solution. It could be that a) the story is boring because there’s too many for
me to side with one, b) the story is confusing because I can’t keep track of
them all, or c) it’s actually several different stories and it doesn’t keep its
momentum every time it switches. Or it could be many other different issues, each of which would want different characters to be cut.
We can
see why the “problems” here would ruin a story on its own; that’s what makes
them different than the solution. Having a lot of characters can achieve a
positive or negative result, but being boring is never a good thing. (Yes,
sometimes people will aim to be confusing; but clearly here it is not something
desired.)
I can’t
argue with someone saying my story is boring or confusion or loses its momentum
because that’s what they feel. It could be singular to them, but at least
understanding that I am trying to make it less boring gives me a direction to
go when I don’t want to delete characters. Even if I were to agree to the
advice and start removing characters I would remove different ones to make it
less boring than I would to make it less confusing.
The
problem with this question is when you have a jerk who response to it as, “The
problem is you have too many characters!”
You will
receive jerks that do this. You can either ask them, “How does it make you feel
to have too many characters?” which receives some very amusing reactions, or
try to explain to them what you want to know. Sometimes, at this point, however,
it might be best to stop talking to him because he’s clearly not trying to work
with you.
4.
Understand the goal.
The
assumed goal of any editor, critic, reviewer, and author is to make the book
“good.” This is not a good goal to have. A book can be good in a thousand
different ways, and often what happens is the critic tries to make it theirs.
This
isn’t intentional; that’s all a person has to go off of: “what my definition of
good is.” But you know when you see movies that just seem to have too many
ideas and not enough details in any of them to be good? That’s what happens.
The
important thing to remember is the image you are going for. It is also
important for the critic to know that as well. We can’t control him in this
scenario, however, so you can try to explain it to him, but it is unlikely he
can understand it.
What it
comes down to is a writer receives a lot of advice that a) is just a cool idea
and not fixing anything, b) fixes something that is based on personal taste
(such as a reader who doesn’t like war suggesting the cut of the battle scene),
or c) a suggestion that will get rid of the idea of the story or what makes the
story different.
Suggestions
like not having the Twilight vampires
sparkle, changing the time period that the story was set in, changing the
gender or race of the main character are very common. These are not necessarily
to be thrown away, the author may believe that the critic is right.
We will
try to get rid of unnecessary risks and peculiar things we haven’t seen before.
But that also risks homogenizing the story.
By
remembering what you are intending to achieve, it allows you to understand why
you don’t wish to take certain suggestions. Of course it is hard to say, “Well
that’s not the image I am going for,” in a non-“you’re wrong” way, but it is
usually the motivation for things.
5.
Respect them.
What
most arguments come down to is the unspoken distaste the speakers have for each
other. We often feel in competition with other writers, the critic and the
author both, and it is very common for the conversation to really be a secret
argument of “I know better than you.”
To best
utilize feedback from someone it is important to respect their opinion and not
care what they think of the creator. If a writer is too focused on having the
other person think highly of him, then every insult or suggestion will hurt
just that much more.
It is
important for her to decide ahead of time that she is there to make her book
better and really try to understand what the other person is saying rather than
what they are thinking.
There
are some exceptions to this. Situations in which she has no choice who she
hears from, people who she doesn’t ever agree with, people who she knows
doesn’t respect her, still require the respect, just not the attention.
With these people that we chose not to hear from we are allowed to just smile and nod. We should still be polite to them to keep up appearances, but we don’t need to respect their opinion or discuss anything with them.