When Editing & Critiquing, Check Your Personal Opinions At The Door

I've been editing a provocative nonfiction manuscript that contains some ideas with which I agree, some with which I disagree, and some with which I disagree strongly. The author has expressed concern that in the process of editing his work, I may inadvertently or purposely alter his meaning due to its controversial content. This is a reasonable worry for any author to have when handing his manuscript over for edit or critique.

I've been on the receiving end of revisionist edits and notes which were based entirely in matters of the reader's personal sensibilities, and it's an experience that's annoying at best, downright offensive at worst. Imagine having your independent, feminist protagonist watered down by a reader who feels such traits are unattractive in a woman. Or getting the note that there are too many references to liquor and bars from a reader who happens to be a recovering alcoholic. Such notes aren't helpful, because while they demonstrate very clearly how to alter the manuscript to better suit one specific reader's tastes, they don't offer any guidance on how to improve the manuscript in a way that will make it more appealing to the general public.

Editing and critiquing demand judgment calls from the reader, but it's a very narrow kind of judgment which should be based only in matters of linguistics and literary form. For example, it's fine to suggest the author eliminate a lengthy passage of navel-gazing on the part of the indecisive protagonist because it brings the story's pace to a crawl, but it's not okay for the editor to make the same suggestion merely because she has no tolerance for indecisive people in real life.

It can be a very fine line to walk, because the nattering observations of an indecisive person truly will seem to bring the story to a crawl for a reader with no patience for such people. But it doesn't mean a reader who doesn't share that particular pet peeve would suggest the same change. This is one of the many reasons why authors should seek out multiple reads from different people, and one of the many reasons why those readers should approach their task with self-awareness and humility.

In the end, matters not specifically pertaining to rules of grammar, spelling and proper usage are all matters of opinion, and this is something authors, editors and critiquers alike should never forget. What one reader finds distasteful, another will find fascinating. What one finds boring, another will find lyrical.

For authors, the trick is to work toward some kind of majority consensus. For editors and critiquers, the trick is to remember that their proper role is merely to bring the author's vision of his ideal manuscript into sharper focus, not to alter it, editorialize on it, or make it more closely resemble whatever vision the editor or critiquer may have in his own life or philosophy.

So, while I may not agree with an author who says [insert viewpoint to which you are strongly opposed here], it's still my job as editor to ensure his message is communicated as clearly and forcefully as possible. If I've done my job well, by the time I'm finished I will have helped the author win some converts to his cause---just as I've been won over to various causes by well-written treatises. And if I have a problem with that, I shouldn't be editing his manuscript in the first place.

How To Write The Best Critique Ever

If you've ever belonged to a workshopping writers' community and have made your work available for critique, you're probably all too familiar with a certain type of singularly insulting and useless feedback. And you've probably wondered why the authors of condescending and mean-spirited critiques are so...well, condescending and mean-spirited.

At last, I've found the answer in the following little-known and closely-guarded set of instructions to which only the most self-important reviewers are made privy. If you've ever been on the receiving end of one of these more-writerly-than-thou types, I'm sure you'll recognize some or all of the instructions given.

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As one of the more accomplished members of any of a number of writer community sites, you are no doubt aware that there are a bunch of barely literate boobs who post their so-called “manuscripts” online in hopes that worthy experts such as yourself will see fit to magnanimously drop a few pearls of wisdom on them, thereby helping them to elevate their work from absolute tripe to mere garbage. While it may seem a terrible waste of your precious time and rare gifts to offer these bumbling idiots your wise and insightful critiques, you must do it because keeping your peerless views to yourself is virtually a crime against humanity. Think of it as charity work.

The rank amateurs who seek your advice are like little children who don’t know when they’ve done wrong, and must turn to an authority figure such as yourself for a firm hand and guidance. Don’t make the mistake of addressing them as equals to yourself, thinking perhaps that as impossible as it may be for them to actually be your equal, adopting a friendly or informal tone will put them at ease. You don’t want them at ease, you want them at full attention, respectful of your status as their superior and perhaps even a little fearful of you.

With respect to the content of the review itself, disregard whatever you’ve read in the sample reviews provided by the site to which you wish to post. As we savvy experts know, such samples are only there to deflect litigation. These sample reviews would have you mention the bright spots in each manuscript, and perish the thought, even compliment the author wherever possible. Remember, dear reader, that regardless of what the writer wants, what he really needs is to be told, in painstaking and tortuous detail, what you think is wrong with his work. And note particularly that I’ve said ‘what you think’; forget about Lajos Egri, Joseph Campbell and other supposed “experts” in the field, the only thing that matters here is your opinion. While such artsy-fartsy, lit hippie types may encourage writers to cultivate a unique "writer's voice", you know there are rules for a reason and rules must be followed.

When reading through a sample, pay no attention to such trifles as tone, plot or characterization. You're on a search-and-destroy mission to identify each instance of rule-breaking and mock it mercilessly. As you undoubtedly know, adverbs and flashbacks have no place in a professional-grade manuscript, nor do shifts in point of view (however purposeful), nonlinear time, or vampires, among countless other things. Don't hesitate to berate the author thoroughly for his inclusion or use of such hallmarks of the novice.

Choose your words carefully. Don’t gently prod the author with a tactful note indicating that something in his manuscript does not meet industry standards or for that matter, your own, better standards; limit yourself to saying that his work “screams amateur”, or accuse him of failure to do his “homework”---this is a particularly good choice of words since it reminds the author that his proper place with respect to you is like that of a child with respect to an adult. Use the most inflammatory and provocative language possible in your reviews. Don’t say that action passages are ‘unclear’, say they’re ‘inept’. Don’t say that dialog ‘doesn’t sound natural’, say it’s ‘laughable’, ‘backward’, or even better, ‘lame’. If there’s one thing these would-be novelists must learn and learn quickly, it’s that Trade Publishing is a cruel and faceless mistress; it is your solemn duty, dear reader, to acquaint your charges with feelings of rejection, self-doubt and despair. As the song goes, you must be cruel to be kind, so try to make your reviews as pointed and hurtful as possible.

There is some disagreement among those in the know where using specific references to a given work sample in a critique is concerned. There are those on the one side who favor this approach, arguing that it provides much more opportunity to insult the writer while adding a personal touch. Then there are those others who prefer vagueness, arguing that the best way to keep the writer guessing is not to give him anything at all to go on. I leave the decision on this point to you, dear reader, but strongly admonish you that if you choose to cite references from the writer’s work, you nevertheless limit your remarks about that citation. For example, consider this excerpt:

“The car chase sequence on page 52 is about as exciting as watching my kid race his Hot Wheels. If you knew anything about writing action you’d know that you need to add more tension here. If you weren’t so clueless, you might have included more innocent bystanders, or maybe had the protagonist’s driver get injured so that the protagonist has to take the wheel of the limo. Try not to be such an idiot in your rewrite.”

At first blush, this excerpt seems like a fine example of the reviewer’s art. The reviewer uses appropriately harsh language and peppers his remarks with insults, but he also makes the unfortunate mistake of giving the writer an idea of how to fix the problem in question. How can we expect them to learn if we spoon-feed them the answers? Resist the temptation to share any suggestions for improvement, even knowing as you must that you are capable of wrenching any manuscript, no matter how awful, into a masterpiece.

Finally, don’t forget to share something about yourself in the review. Informing the writer that your enviable level of expertise and wisdom comes as a direct result of having placed third in the Busted Truck, Nevada Novel Derby is not bragging, it’s merely stating a fact of which the writer should be aware. Don’t let your ignorance about the writer deter you from asserting that you are undoubtedly better informed and more experienced than he. After all, by asking for your critique he’s already said as much himself, hasn’t he?

And don’t worry that being as yet unagented and unsold somehow detracts from your position of authority. As all of us on this preternatural wavelength of talent know, the small minds of ‘the industry’ are simply not ready for our caliber of work. Their shallow wants and self-serving agendas allow no room for a true visionary, and maybe if they’d answer a query or return a call once in a while they would have a chance at breaking the first real talent they’ve seen in their miserable little lives!

But, I digress.

In conclusion, too many reviewers mistake the workshopping process as a democratic support community when it is, in fact, a theocracy intended to provide a platform for we, the truly gifted few, to cut down the endless rows of talent-free hacks like so many stalks of wheat before the scythe, thereby discouraging any further progress by these also-rans who fancy themselves writers. Do not neglect your duty, and you are sure to be among the Top Five reviewers on any sites you frequent within a month.

(In case anyone reading hasn't yet picked up on it, this is satire. If critiquers would do the exact opposite of the instructions given here, I think aspiring authors everywhere could share their work a little more freely, and breathe a little easier)