Last night our writers group finished up a delightful puzzle in an interactive fiction piece by one of our members. He is a history major and is already planning to use IF as a learning tool for his future students.
We also got in the critique of two short stories, one of which was mine, abandoned from a creative writing course a couple years ago. The great thing about a workshop is that you get to see the spots that may be flawed that you’ve been reading over and somehow missing (the same principle of missing your own typo errors applies to writing elements as well). This particular story was one that I probably would never pick up again to revise and play with, but had always liked the general story line and some of the imagery and meaning. The story was helped by the simple suggestion of changing the title from “Cooper’s Promise” to “Cooper’s Vow,” focusing the message within those two words alone. The feedback of the group has inspired me to pick this story up again and to rewrite, with a clearer picture in my head of what it needs.
Another thing I have learned that is critical; there is no need to adjust a story to an audience necessarily–unless one is aiming for publication in a particular genre or journal type. “Cooper’s Promise” is heavily backgrounded in Catholicism, and many who did not relate to it was for that reason. But a lesson is here for both writers and more importantly, for readers–and I’ve done this so often myself; if the point of view conflicts with the story being read because of the personal experience brought into the reading, there is new information being learned about a different point of view. Thus, as readers, we have just expanded our knowledge about human nature. Unless of course, the protagonist acts so completely out of character without good reason, we can as readers accept him doing what we ourselves might never do, and as writers, create a character that is unique and interesting.
Never, never be intimidated by critique; it is the mortar that fills the cracks and holds the wall together as it stretches around a place of interest, fear or comfort.
Hallelujah.
This was a problem I had with a writing group last year: I’d read a well-executed piece and they would complain “But the readers aren’t going to know about these things. How can you expect them to understand?” It happened so often and I saw it lead to the ruin of so many good stories that I began looking for a different group.
Don’t trust that criticism.