Careful Critique: Tips for Editing Your Own Work (and Others’)
For anyone who’s had the pleasure of partaking in a workshop, you’ll understand the dread surrounding single-word questions. For those who haven’t, let me paint a picture. Prepare to cringe.
You arrive at workshop, where your piece is being critiqued. You receive your edits and letters back to find how? why? and what? drizzled down the margins. You stare at the words, squint at them until your eyebrows go numb, trying to figure out what those little words mean. What do they point to, and what needs to be expanded or lessened because of them? How are you supposed to edit when there’re only these cloudy questions to guide you? The honest answer is, you can’t, so you leave the workshop, a little more annoyed than when you walked in.
This scenario presents two figures you do not want to be: the poorly editor and the disappointed author. The way to beat both identities is to start with this important question: if I were getting my work edited, what would be the most beneficial to help progress it to its best revision? It’s a hefty question, but one that’ll allow you and any writers you edit get the most out of the process.
Fear Not the Interrogative
Asking questions in line edits and critique letters is one of the best tools to help progress a piece, but only when they’re pointed and specific. Ones such as those in the scenario above are too open to be of much help to the author. As an editor, you will know what your one-word question is pointing to, but the author cannot read minds (as far as we know…). However there is a way to make them work when they are accompanied by further explanation. For instance, you highlight a passage and write “why?” next to it. On its own, it’s confusing and a bit offensive, like you’re questioning the author’s reason for writing rather than wanting clarity for a specific detail. Instead, flesh the question out some more: “Why is the fairy godmother so brusque to the maiden in this section? The emotion might need more grounding throughout the chapter.” When you’re editing, you’re close-reading. Watch for connections and catch the loose threads so you can alert the author.
Questions can also be useful for ends other than clarification. They’re powerful keys for brainstorming, especially when one leads into another, and another, and so on. They can help in the creation process for the author, and also pose new possibilities for their story. Perhaps leaving a small list of “what-if” questions at the end of your critique letter, in line edits, or in notes to yourself during self-edits. “What would happen if the fairy godmother was kind to the maiden? What if this is a tool to mask nefarious intentions?”
How do you feel about that?
One formative editing and writing instruction was given to me within weeks of my first year in high school English. Whenever discussion reached a lull, my teacher would sigh exasperatedly and say, “This isn’t book club,” prodding us to dig deeper into the text. Comments like “I think the hero is dumb” or “The protagonist is powerful” are flat statements, just as bad as one-word questions. It’s great to hear opinions—that’s only going to help the writer know what could be worked on. But why do you think the hero is dumb? Are there any actions they make which seem cheesy and need more nuance? And how is the protagonist powerful? Are there any key moments the author could reference to make sure they stay that way?
Another way is to state the opinion (“I feel like this scene drags on”), then offer a possible solution (“perhaps this section could be cut, or maybe less exposition here”). Giving reachable goals with your notes is the most helpful thing you could do for a writer, pointing to the places you feel could be strengthened and offering potential solutions. In the end, it’s up to the writer to decide if they want to make those changes, but giving them the option is invaluable. You might alert them to something they hadn’t caught when writing it.
Praise is Progressive!
Sometimes, giving praise can feel like a less imperative part of the editing process. However, that is far from the truth. Praise notifies the author of the strong points in their piece, of the places or techniques they can refer to and expand on, whether it be for a poem, a short story, or a series of novels. Giving a note like “I love how you characterize this person through their animal-like eyes,” shows the author what distinguishes that character and makes them identifiable to the reader. They can then use this feature as a reference point throughout their piece. It’s also good to note when you as an editor and reader want to see more of something. “I love this section! Would love to see that theme/idea explored more in this current or future chapters.” Or, “Oh! I love this moment of tension between characters A and B. Perhaps we can linger here for a beat longer.”
Editing is so much more than leaving a thought every few pages. It has the potential to shift the author’s story, and to solidify the work that they have put so much time and effort into. Whether you’re editing a fellow author’s piece or you’re self-editing, remember you are aiding in the creation of something wonderful. So pick up that colored pen, sit in front of that document and tell me, what do you see?
