show/tell

Writers are commonly exhorted to 'show, don’t tell.'

Here’s what I think about that. 

Spice

Sometimes cake is a pleasure to consume, light on your tongue and pleasing to the senses. But sometimes it’s dense, tough, and unappetising. 

And when you have a mouthful of bland, leaden food, there is nothing else to do except keep chewing until it’s gone – or spit it out.

Excruciating

It’s Friday, and the weekend looms ahead of me, filled with that most excruciating of experiences:  the getting of feedback.  I’ve submitted a couple of my more recent short stories to a writers’ group, and I will be hearing their unabridged opinions at our next meeting.

Feedback isn’t always pretty.  Writers’ groups contain people with a variety of experiences, opinions, and differing levels of writing and critiquing skills.  While some people like to try to understand what the writer was trying to do, and attempt to pitch their feedback accordingly, others come from the hold-nothing-back camp.  Of course, we’re all there to learn and to understand our own writing better so that we can improve it, so the forthright opinion of our peers is valuable.  But it needs to be constructive, not destructive.  It is possible to be honest without gouging out the tender roots of a beginner writer’s confidence.  

What do I mean by this?  Studies have shown that it's usually the more experienced learners who want to hear negative (but specific) feedback.  People who are just starting out welcome more positive comments, because they need the encouragement.  In a group with a variety of experience and, more importantly, confidence levels, it can be quite tricky to know which end of the continuum to pitch your comments to, so inevitably there will be some misfires.  It pays to put on your psychological flak-jacket before seeking feedback from a group, in case you’re on the receiving end of an enthusiastically well-intentioned mortar attack.

So, armed with my bullet-proof silk & mohair fingerless gloves, I have submitted two short stories for the consideration of the group. I wrote the first of them several months ago. I loved the process of writing it, and felt very pleased with the result.  Since then, the satisfied glow of completion has ebbed a little, leaving me wondering how successful it really is.  Re-reading it, I’m not sure it is as smooth as I’d first thought.  It’s short, very short, maybe painfully so.  But I think it might still contain enough cleverness and charm (and “punch”) to satisfy the reader.  

The second story is brand new, and much rawer as a result.  It started, as many of my stories do, with a single burning scene in mind, and the rest of the narrative has grown around it in misshapen concentric rings.  I’m still much too close to that interior place of creation to have any ability to judge either the story or the quality of its delivery.  In my inner eye, the salt marsh locale is beautiful, desolate, and gloomy, but I’ve described it sparingly, and maybe some readers will want more physical detail.  I do know it’s still quite rough in places, the pacing is a little clumpy, and I really need to learn a whole lot of new words that mean “grey”. 

On the other hand, some aspects of this story are quite nuanced, requiring the reader to make a leap.  I know from experience that not all readers are able or willing to do that.  Some people expect to have every last, excruciating plot point fed to them, with a disposable plastic spoon, no less.  And after a beta-reading by a family member who expressed denouement disappointment, I suspect there will be quite mixed feedback on this one.  And that is a good thing, if it helps me to understand how it is received variously in the mind of the readers.

On being judged

This blog about writing has, it seems, veered more into writing about blogging.  

This is the result of the juxtaposition of the blogging workshop I attended earlier this week, and the Best Australian Blogs Competition 2012, in which DD is a nominee in the words and writing category.  So let's just call April blogging month, and trust that when the excitement dies down, Destination: denouement will resume a more writerly tone. 

In the meantime, I’ve been glued to my site analytics, trying to divine whether our distinguished competition judge(s) have passed through, but I am no wiser.  So, if you are reading this and you’re a judge, welcome!  Take a seat, make yourself comfortable.  Please take a moment to enjoy the Denouement ambiance.  Would you like a cup of tea? 

Old woman pouring tea, unknown artist...
by Black Country Museums @ Flickr

It is a strange feeling to know that your personal work is being assessed, critiqued, scored.  But as writers, this is an essential part of our métier.  Eventually someone will be reading what we have written, and deciding if it’s good or not.  Feedback is an important tool to improve our writing, and there are a number of ways to get it. 

Probably the least useful is to launch your untested work directly at its intended publisher in the hope of an encouraging reply.  Asking your proud mum/spouse/infatuated friend may not be very helpful either, unless these people have a literary bent and an uncanny degree of objectivity.  Instead it is better to find someone with experience or a shared interest in writing.  A writers’ group or feedback circle can be one way to find such people, even if this is online.

Receiving feedback in a group situation can be challenging, especially when you have sweated over several revisions of a piece.  It’s good to remember that many people will have many different opinions, and they can’t all be right.  You’re not required to agree with all of them, but do consider their merit.  Be thoughtful.  But also be pragmatic.  Not everyone will be prepared to push themselves into the space where they can understand what it is you were trying to do, especially if it’s different to what they are used to.  Feedback is just a tool.  You can pick it up, and you can also put it down when it’s no longer useful to you. 

Most importantly, criticism is only ever about the work that you've done, and not about you. Take a deep breath and separate the two.  This can be hard when you're just getting started.  That is when feedback can be most fraught but also most beneficial.  So be bold, and invite the challenge.  Treat it like the learning experience that it’s meant to be.  I don’t know if I'll ever discover the truth of exactly how Destination: denoument has fared in the Best Australian Blogs Competition (oh yeah, unless it WINS), but the rigour of being judged has done me some good, regardless.