Increasingly, newish writers are surfacing in my in-box asking me to read their work and give them some feedback. This flatters my ego to no end — “HA! You think I have something to teach you about writing! HA! That’s HILARIOUS!” A-hem. Hey, anyone who has the nerve to ask me for feedback is probably genuinely striving to be better — I like to encourage that, there’s more than enough crappy writing out there. In an attempt to keep yet another awful piece of writing out of the public eye, I’m happy* (with sufficient bribery) to read something over, hand out a couple of general pointers, and then, send a bludgeoned hopeful back to their keyboard with a head full of not very sugar coated feedback.<\/p>\n
I am a brutal critic. I learned to write under the sharp red pens of a handful of professional meanies, harsh types who wouldn’t let me off the hook when I made sloppy mistakes with grammar or didn’t follow my arguments through to their proper conclusion. As a result of the tutelage of those hard, hard editors — and of sitting through hour after hour after hour of critique when I was in school — I have learned not only to take criticism, but to dish it out. It’s un-fun to hang out with me as I read the travel magazines that clutter the coffee table. “Boring. Generalizations. Anyone could have written this. Transparent shilling for the host company. Tell me something I don’t know. Seriously? You went to this compelling destination and you deliver this colorless tripe? What the hell?” Yeah, I’m a monster.<\/p>\n
Unfortunately, not a lot of people are educated in how to take criticism and they mistake “I don’t like this work and\/or idea” for “I don’t like you.” Not so, not so! In fact, if I agreed to read your work and give you feedback on it or I’ve bothered to comment on something you published, I probably like you rather a lot. In fact, I might like you so much that I expect awesome work from you as a standard. With that in mind, I’m going\u00a0 to share a few things that keep coming up in the work I’m asked to review.<\/p>\n
Before you’re tempted to ask me if I’ll read your piece, make sure you’ve nailed down the things I’ve listed above. Honestly, most of the folks who have asked me to read their work needed to attend to these exact issues. And know this: I struggle with all of this — and more. If I slow down, read my work out loud, and have someone I trust review it, I create much better work than had I just hammered something out, and sent it off into the world.<\/p>\n
Just because we can<\/em> publish instantaneously, doesn’t mean we should. I write better when I’ve taken the time to really think a piece through or had the painful oversight of a hardass editor. People who want to be take seriously as writers should do the same. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go run myself over with my car.<\/p>\n *NOTE<\/strong>: This isn’t an invitation for you to send me your work! Good lord, no! I’m busy! Things to do! Places to go! Cake to eat! I might <\/em>say yes if I have time, but now, I’ll probably just say, “Did you read that post?” and send you right back here.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Increasingly, newish writers are surfacing in my in-box asking me to read their work and give them some feedback. This flatters my ego to no end — “HA! You think I have something to teach you about writing! HA! That’s HILARIOUS!” A-hem. Hey, anyone who has the nerve to ask me for feedback is probably … <\/p>\n