I asked my husband to read a little something I wrote. It's rare I do such a thing, because A) he's one busy dude and B) he's not my target audience. But he humored me. And when he didn't offer an immediate comment, I thought maybe my piece had touched a soft spot in him, in a way he had to absorb before sharing. That maybe he was moved by my talent, proud to have such a creative wife.
I finally asked his opinion, ready for praise. [Insert ego here.]
"It's way too detailed. Reading it wore me out."
I admit I was surprised--that's not what I thought. And then a little bummed--because that's not what I thought. But I didn't argue, didn't get defensive. I considered his simple words, and came to decide I was okay with them.
Because I'd asked to know what he thought, and I needed to be a big girl about his honest (if blunt) feedback. And because my potential is not hinged on his sole offering.
But mainly? It was a lesson to me. That among the good critiques and supportive comments, there will be those less so. That there will be people who don't like my writing. And I have to accept that. That's the reality.
Have you had a similar dose of reality?
Showing posts with label feedback. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feedback. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Friday, July 25, 2008
Like Shoes
Wow, thanks for the birthday greetings, everyone! Littlest had a blast, and it was a great and blessed evening.
And thanks for enjoying the brownies with me. *burp* Oh! Excuse me.
***
I had kind of suspected, and have decided for sure, that finding the right agent is like finding the right pair of shoes: If it's gonna work out, it's gotta be the right fit. Another rejection tells me I haven't yet found my match. But I know I can't get upset over just one. Many more possibilities, just like in the seemingly-endless shoe department at my favorite store, are waiting to be approached. Maybe tried on for size.
Yesterday my thoughts wandered to those people you hear about (I know they're out there) who get partial request after partial request from agents. What does it mean, exactly? Obviously, they've done something right with their query letter. They've pitched their book just so, had that necessary hook, grabbing the attention of one professional after another. But I have to ask, how often does the manuscript (ms) live up to the expectation? What if the writer has sailed through the query stage because short, summarizing blurbs are their specialty, but when it comes to the full length of their novel, they've failed? On average, how many agents give time to those books seeming so promising, but so quickly kick it out the door because it just wasn't good enough?
I'm not judging, by the way. Just curious.
Conversely, how often is it that a query gets little or no attention, regardless of the story that lies behind it? What if it's a diamond in the rough, to use the old cliche? The diamond is the ms; the rough is the query.
My book is good. I know it is. (And if saying that makes me sound presumptious, then presume I'll have to do.) So is it that my query's bad? Am I one whose query just doesn't cut it, so no agent gets far enough to see what qualities my ms may hold? If so, I need to reassess. My friend, Wendy, who also lives this writing life, suggested I post my query on AW (the writers' forum site) for critiques. As much as I've avoided it before (though I did get feedback from 5 fellow writers whose thoughts I value, including Wendy herself), it may be time. If I'm missing that one crucial element (or dozens) and have included a no-no (or dozens), I really should correct it all.
As for the most recent rejection, received day-before-yesterday from the agent's assistant, it was generic. "Dear Author... Thanks for ... the opportunity... not the right agents for your work..." EXCEPT THAT "...we wish you success with your work... keep writing... [and] we strongly urge you to keep submitting elsewhere, as you might already have a bestseller in your hands." (bolding is mine for empasis)
What?! Oh my holy canoli. Did you read that like I did?
Okay. I know that, given the generic nature of the rest of the e-mail, it's not a statement I should plan my world around. It could simply be their way of boosting a writer's - any coherent writer's, for that matter - morale and esteem. But then again, why would they say such a thing? Create false hope? And they wouldn't do that with every Jane (or Janna, as it were) who comes a long. Would they?
Either way, I'll take it for what it may be worth. I'll hold on to that little glimmer and keep searching. 'Cuz someday I'll find the perfect pair of shoes. Er, agent.
8 rejections; 9 out
And thanks for enjoying the brownies with me. *burp* Oh! Excuse me.
***
I had kind of suspected, and have decided for sure, that finding the right agent is like finding the right pair of shoes: If it's gonna work out, it's gotta be the right fit. Another rejection tells me I haven't yet found my match. But I know I can't get upset over just one. Many more possibilities, just like in the seemingly-endless shoe department at my favorite store, are waiting to be approached. Maybe tried on for size.
Yesterday my thoughts wandered to those people you hear about (I know they're out there) who get partial request after partial request from agents. What does it mean, exactly? Obviously, they've done something right with their query letter. They've pitched their book just so, had that necessary hook, grabbing the attention of one professional after another. But I have to ask, how often does the manuscript (ms) live up to the expectation? What if the writer has sailed through the query stage because short, summarizing blurbs are their specialty, but when it comes to the full length of their novel, they've failed? On average, how many agents give time to those books seeming so promising, but so quickly kick it out the door because it just wasn't good enough?
I'm not judging, by the way. Just curious.
Conversely, how often is it that a query gets little or no attention, regardless of the story that lies behind it? What if it's a diamond in the rough, to use the old cliche? The diamond is the ms; the rough is the query.
My book is good. I know it is. (And if saying that makes me sound presumptious, then presume I'll have to do.) So is it that my query's bad? Am I one whose query just doesn't cut it, so no agent gets far enough to see what qualities my ms may hold? If so, I need to reassess. My friend, Wendy, who also lives this writing life, suggested I post my query on AW (the writers' forum site) for critiques. As much as I've avoided it before (though I did get feedback from 5 fellow writers whose thoughts I value, including Wendy herself), it may be time. If I'm missing that one crucial element (or dozens) and have included a no-no (or dozens), I really should correct it all.
As for the most recent rejection, received day-before-yesterday from the agent's assistant, it was generic. "Dear Author... Thanks for ... the opportunity... not the right agents for your work..." EXCEPT THAT "...we wish you success with your work... keep writing... [and] we strongly urge you to keep submitting elsewhere, as you might already have a bestseller in your hands." (bolding is mine for empasis)
What?! Oh my holy canoli. Did you read that like I did?
Okay. I know that, given the generic nature of the rest of the e-mail, it's not a statement I should plan my world around. It could simply be their way of boosting a writer's - any coherent writer's, for that matter - morale and esteem. But then again, why would they say such a thing? Create false hope? And they wouldn't do that with every Jane (or Janna, as it were) who comes a long. Would they?
Either way, I'll take it for what it may be worth. I'll hold on to that little glimmer and keep searching. 'Cuz someday I'll find the perfect pair of shoes. Er, agent.
8 rejections; 9 out
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Feedback: An Important Factor
I thrive on feedback. I've always known that (and I think it's inherent for writers), but I realized today how true it is.
Early on in the writing of my novel, I fed chapters to my parents and two friends. The most objective, unbiased views they weren't, but the praise and comments they returned to me gave me the boost needed to keep at it.
Somewhere around the middle of the manuscript I slacked off, though, and wouldn't let anyone see my progress. The culmination of my work and ideas came to be too encompassing, too detailed and in need of, I knew, eventual editing. Realizing I wanted no one to see it until it was as close to "perfect" as possible, I opted to keep the rest of the book to myself.
And then this week, out of nowhere, the opportunity for a sort of beta reader (proofreader) presented itself. I'm not sure how detailed the feedback will be, but so far I've gotten great comments. The most exciting? The reader has asked questions of me, of the story; questions that prove she's getting from the plot exactly what I'd hoped the audience would take away - even early on. It fills me with glee! Satisfied and giddy glee! And desire to keep working with my edits, to push forward with my goal.
It's just reassuring, you know? Like, it's proof that I'm still doing the right thing. No matter how much I question my talent, question my potential, this little bit of feedback tells me I'm on the right track.
Feedback, I love you.
Early on in the writing of my novel, I fed chapters to my parents and two friends. The most objective, unbiased views they weren't, but the praise and comments they returned to me gave me the boost needed to keep at it.
Somewhere around the middle of the manuscript I slacked off, though, and wouldn't let anyone see my progress. The culmination of my work and ideas came to be too encompassing, too detailed and in need of, I knew, eventual editing. Realizing I wanted no one to see it until it was as close to "perfect" as possible, I opted to keep the rest of the book to myself.
And then this week, out of nowhere, the opportunity for a sort of beta reader (proofreader) presented itself. I'm not sure how detailed the feedback will be, but so far I've gotten great comments. The most exciting? The reader has asked questions of me, of the story; questions that prove she's getting from the plot exactly what I'd hoped the audience would take away - even early on. It fills me with glee! Satisfied and giddy glee! And desire to keep working with my edits, to push forward with my goal.
It's just reassuring, you know? Like, it's proof that I'm still doing the right thing. No matter how much I question my talent, question my potential, this little bit of feedback tells me I'm on the right track.
Feedback, I love you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)