by James L. Rubart, @jameslrubart
Back in the mid 90s, my career as a semi-professional magician was going well. I had an act with another magician and we had gone from doing small groups of twenty people up to shows of 600+.
My business partner, Jeff, came to one of our shows and afterwards I asked him for a critique.
He said, “Well, your blocking needs work, and I’d suggest music when people are coming up on stage so you don’t lose any momentum, the banter between the two of you went on a little long at a few points, and your closing sequence was good, but you could have used one more killer trick to close the thing out.”
I was crushed. He was talking about a show that got roars of laughter, and massive applause. I thought it was perfect. Nope.
I’d wanted Jeff to tell me how awesome the show was. Tell me how funny and entertaining we were.
In retrospect, I realized I didn’t really want a critique. Or the truth. I wanted encouragement.
The Critical Component
When another writer asks for a critique, ask yourself, what do they really want? Encouragement? Or critique? Sometimes—especially when a writer is starting out—what they want, what they need, is encouragement. They want a reason to keep going. They want someone to believe in them.
I’m not saying to speak things that are untrue about their writing. But be careful. Do you remember the first time you showed your writing to anyone? How fragile you felt? Do you remember the 10,000th time you showed your writing to someone? How fragile you felt?
Whether you’re critiquing a newbie, or a seasoned author, first ask yourself what they’re really wanting. If you realize what they want at the moment is only a listening ear, and encouragement, give them only that.
And if they really do want a critique, remember the sandwich principle:
- Tell them what they did well.
- Suggest ideas for improvement.
- Tell them what they did well.
And thanks, but I’m okay, I don’t need any feedback on this column at the moment.
What if You Woke up One Morning and the Darkest Parts of Yourself Were Gone?
Toren Daniels vanished eight months back, and his wife and kids have moved on—with more than a little relief. Toren was a good man but carried a raging temper that often exploded without warning. So when he shows up on their doorstep out of the blue, they’re shocked to see him alive. But more shocked to see he’s changed. Radically.
His anger is gone. He’s oddly patient. Kind. Fun. The man he always wanted to be. Toren has no clue where he’s been but knows he’s been utterly transformed. He focuses on three things: Finding out where he’s been. Finding out how it happened. And winning back his family.
But then shards of his old self start to rise from deep inside—like the man kicked out of the NFL for his fury—and Toren must face the supreme battle of his life.
In this fresh take on the classic Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, James L. Rubart explores the war between the good and evil within each of us—and one man’s only chance to overcome the greatest divide of the soul.
James L. Rubart is 28 years old, but lives trapped inside an older man’s body. He thinks he’s still young enough to water ski and dirt bike with his two grown sons, and loves to send readers on journeys they’ll remember months after they finish his stories. He’s the best-selling, Christy BOOK of the YEAR, CAROL, INSPY and RT Book Reviews award winning author of nine novels, a speaker, branding expert, co-host of the Novel Marketing podcast, and co-founder of the Rubart Writing Academy. He lives with his amazing wife on a small lake in Washington. More at jamesLrubart.com
Comments 1
Hey, Jim — I really liked your blog post today. No, really. I did. And you know what else? You’re a pro when it comes to encouraging writers. Thanks for that.