Showing posts with label criticism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label criticism. Show all posts

Monday, January 24, 2011

On the sticky subject of book reviewing

Last night, I noticed a few comments on Twitter that were part of a larger #querychat.  I don't know how it came up, or what the other commenters had to say, but literary agent Jill Corcoran made her case for not reviewing books on-line.

She discourages her clients from reviewing books on their blogs (I don't know about Goodreads) because she believes it serves no purpose except as a possible liability.  Namely, if you don't like a book and you review it badly, and your book goes on sub to the publisher of that book, and the editor happens across your blog, what are they going to think about taking you on as a new writer?

It's a fair point.

And now it's got me wondering.  Should I be posting reviews on Goodreads?  Anywhere?  A while back, I turned myself in knots over posting a negative review of a book anonymously.  I know what goes into writing a book.  Crawling through the slushpile of countless agents.  Refining, refining, refining your manuscript.  Clawing your way onto the desk of an editor.  Getting the attention of a reader from the shelves of a bookstore or library.  The odds are incredible.  So, who am I, really, to say whether a book was good or not?

Certainly I'm entitled to my opinion.  Even the most popular books/movies/songs/fashions/what have you don't resonate with everyone.  But does it matter if I share that opinion?  

I'm not going to digress into a tirade about the Internet making everyone feel entitled, blah blah blah.  I'm blogging for God's sake, that would be nothing but flinging stones from the front porch of my glass house.

But it does make me wonder...

In the end, what is the benefit of posting book reviews?

- Liz

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Track Changes Have I Loved

Yesterday, I told you all about my torrid affair with Scrivener. Lest you think I am a brazen, convention-flauting hussy, today I want to tell you about my favorite feature of that tried and true elder statesmen of the word processing world, Microsoft Word. (Gentlemen, you might consider removing your hats as a sign of respect.)

Let's face it, Word is still the standard for the publishing world. On those occasions when you have to send attachments to agents and editors, you're going to be expected to send a .doc. Same holds true for most critique partners and beta readers.

(For those of you who are considering the switch to Scrivener, fear not--you'll be able to save your Scrivening as a .doc without any trouble.)

By far, my favorite feature of Word is Track Changes. When you're getting all those valuable notes back from CPs, betas, or--god willing--and agent or editor, this is the BEST way to get them, hands down. Here's why.

Open up a document--No, go ahead, I'll wait. Go to Tools on the Menu Bar, and scroll down to Track Changes. Then Highlight Changes. I always select Track Changes While Editing, and de-select Highlight Changes in Printed Document. You can also use the options menu on this little pop-up to personalize your color scheme and so on.

Here's the brilliant part: Start making corrections in the original text. That's right, just plow right over whatever's already there. Delete things, add words, correct spelling or punctuation. Each change will cause a little bubble to pop up on the right, recording what you did. (Yes, this is the part where you make your precious story look like it's bleeding to death. Or blueing to death, depending on what color scheme you're using.)

Don't worry, any change you make can be restored.

You can also make comments. Select any word, sentence, or even just leave the cursor where it lies. In the Reviewing Toolbar, which should be at the top of your window now, click the New Comment button. It's a little yellow Post-It with a green plus sign in the corner. It will open up another of those bubbles on the right where you can type away to your heart's content, telling your critique partner exactly what you think of something and why. I'm a huge fan of this feature. Probably too fond of it, frankly, but if this blog has proven nothing, it's that I like to be long-winded and find myself fascinating.

But, I digress...

If you've been lucky enough to receive a document that's already been through Track Changes, you have a new set of instructions. Each of those bubbles has a tiny check mark or X in the corner that allows you to accept or reject the changes made. You can also do a sweeping Accept All Changes if you agree with everything your reader has noted. Or, even select large sections of text and accept just those changes.

In other words, you can get all those precious grammatical and spelling errors corrected with the press of one button.

I am telling you, this is the single greatest way to get or give corrections to a writer. If you're not already using it, try it with just a few pages and a trusted writing friend. I can pretty much guarantee the light will dawn in your brain in a matter of minutes.

This isn't a special feature, it doesn't only work on Macs or PCs--Track Changes is patient, Track Changes is kind. Track Changes does not envy. It does not boast.... Well, you get the idea. Best to quit before that crack in the earth gets any wider and sucks me directly into hell for my blasphemy.

As dry and didactic as this post is, I hope you learned something. If you're already using Track Changes, I'm sure you've slipped into a coma of boredom by this point. If you're not, you're probably intimidated. Trust me, try it.

So, my writing friends, what other time-and-energy saving shortcuts am I missing in my life? Educate me in the comments!

- Liz

Monday, March 22, 2010

Putting On Our Big Girl Panties


Richard North Patterson wrote, "Writing is rewriting." He couldn't be more right.

I've been thinking about critiquing lately, and having someone critique my work. It's nervous-making (Thanks, Scott Westerfeld, for permanently infecting my brain with Pretty-Speak.), but it's always worth the chewed nails.

The main problem with trying to critique your own work (a valuable skill that I'll talk about another time) is that you know what you were talking about. That makes it easy to excuse confusing phrases, or overlook glaring omissions. You know your characters, you know their tone of voice when they issue a line of dialogue, but just like when you receive an e-mail from someone you don't know very well, you can't be sure if they intend to be humorous or just plain mean.

Having fresh eyes on your work will tell you many things--what works, what doesn't, what got a laugh, or was interpreted as funny when that wasn't your intention (this happens to me a lot). A good critique partner will see all the typos your eyes have glossed over ten times, call you to the carpet when your characters are acting strangely, and give you the oh-so-necessary "Huh?" when you're not making any sense.

So what do you do with all this third-party input?

Well, you start by putting on your big girl panties.

You don't have to agree with every suggestion a critique partner makes (although I would argue that some rules of grammar are immutable and you should probably take heed of any suggestions in that arena) but you should learn from everything they say.

Here's just a few of the things that run through my head when I get notes from a CP:

1. I agree, thank God you pointed that out, or I might have sent that glaring error out into the big wide world.

2. Oh really? I totally didn't see it that way. I guess you're right.

3. Are you sure? I'm going to run this by a couple other people and look for a consensus.

4. You totally missed the point, but that means I did a crappy job communicating it. Better fix that.

5. Um, no. I would never use the phrase "heaving bosoms" in a novel and I'm just going to pretend you didn't suggest that.**

6. Yay! You got the joke! I was so worried about that one.

7. Really? That's funny? Huh. Didn't mean for that to get a laugh. Bonus!

8. Okay, okay, you're right, that part sucks. I was hoping I'd be wrong about that.

9. Oops! Now I feel like an idiot. I can't believe I mixed up it's and its.

10. Whew! That wasn't so bad. I can crawl out from under the bed and get out of my fetal position.

** Heaving bosoms is a pet peeve of mine, and here serves as placeholder for any off the wall suggestions from a CP. This business really is subjective.

Writers: Any other startling revelations come to you from a crit partner or beta reader?

- Liz