Learning to “love” feedback

Writing a novel is a deeply personal activity. It’s a translation of one’s own imagination into physical words, ostensibly for sharing with others, but also as a permanent record of the ideas that gather between a person’s synapses. The stories I’ve written feel like children–I know them better than anyone and understand their oddities and idioms. I’ve pushed something of myself into each one, intended or not. They are, in essence, extensions of myself.

And so, sharing a story can be frightening. Paralyzing. It’s an opportunity to share your musings, your ideas, but also…what if the reader hates it? Or, perhaps worse, what if they think you’re a bad writer? The ego cowers into a fetal position at the very thought.

BUT (and I’m sure you knew that was coming) I don’t think there’s a more important phase of a writing project than feedback. Red marks on a page, bubbles in a document’s margin. Comments and questions from a reader that make you see gaps and excesses your brain never would have identified, as you know exactly what your own writing is meant to convey. Some feedback is discarded, some taken to heart. Fixes are made, changes incorporated. And in this way, your story goes from being a simple reflection of your own thoughts to something bigger: a manuscript that others will enjoy and cherish.

If books are children, then writers need to remember the old saying, “it takes a village.” No writer bangs out a 100,000 word manuscript, sends it straight to a traditional publisher, and sees their books on shelves weeks later. Shared effort is required. Beta readers, agents, editors. Chances for feedback, for conversation, and for change. It’s through this process that a good manuscript can become something special.

Now, some reading this may balk at my idealized vision of incorporating criticism, and it’s true that feedback is often unpleasant. When you write your own story, you believe in it, and it’s hard to hear that others didn’t connect. But if you allow yourself to reflect on why, you might figure out the right way to make it work. To adjust and fix those gaps.

And I’m not pretending that’s easy, either.

One of my biggest surprises as an author is how hard it is to even gather feedback. Perhaps it’s because I work in an unrelated field (data science), but most of the people I’ve shared books with other the years simply…didn’t read them. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard “send me your book!” from a well-meaning friend, co-worker, or family member, only to never hear a word about it from them again. But I also don’t blame them, as everyone’s time is limited. The point is that when you do find someone willing to read your book and give feedback, cherish it.

Not every comment will be worth incorporating, but they’re all worth gathering. And when you find something that doesn’t work across multiple trusted readers, that’s when you know it’s time for a change. You might love an aspect of your story, but if no one else does, consider it further. Find a way to make both you and the reader happy.

After all, there’s no better way to grow as a storyteller.