I stood staring down at the Yellow Pages listing— Agents, Literary. Only one name in Portland, Oregon. Weeks before I’d received a rejection letter from an editor in San Francisco who’d said, “I think someone else will buy this manuscript. Maybe you should get an agent.”
It was 1990, and I’d just moved to Oregon. If I was going to get serious about my writing career, I had to take that editor’s advice. My hands shook as I punched in the number. What would I say? Would the agent even talk to me?
She did, although she didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear.
“I’m not taking on any new children’s book writers,” she said. “But maybe what you really need is a critique group, not an agent.”
“A what?” I asked.
“A critique group.”
Well, I didn’t want to sound ignorant, so I just pretended to know what she was talking about.
“I still work with one children’s book writer,” the agent was saying. “Her first book comes out next year, and I think she’s looking for someone to join her group. Why not give her a call?”
The agent gave me the writer’s telephone number and spelled out her name: Carmen T. Bernier-Grand. A soon-to-be-published writer with an exotic name — that scared me even more than calling an agent out of the Yellow Pages. So I let several weeks go by.
“Hello?” came the voice when I finally made the call.
“Is this Carmen T. Bernier-Grand?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t sound too shaky.
“Yes.”
So I plunged into a long, complicated explanation — the agent, the editor, this whole thing about critique groups.
And she plunged into a long, complicated reply — in heavily accented English.
I could barely understand anything she said because I was nervous and she was talking really, really fast. But when I hung up, I knew two things: that she’d invited me to a critique group meeting the following Tuesday night and that we would meet at someone’s house on Beaverton Hillsdale Highway in Portland.
So began my first experience with a critique group.
As the years passed, my writing got better. I learned how to see the gaps in my stories, hear my characters’ voices, and anticipate their inconsistencies. I edited and rewrote my work with more precision and joy.
Carmen became one of my closest friends, the members of the group like a second family. At least ten books were born, read, critiqued, and revised among us all — and who knows how many unpublished manuscripts we shared? A deep and lasting bond brought us together, something beyond the need to write and read. Over the years, we saw each other through marriages, births, illnesses, divorces, graduations, even deaths.
Along the way, I joined another group, one that had its first meeting in the 1970s. What a thrill to be part of a group with such a rich and distinguished history. Now I’m in a third group, made up mostly of writers from the first two. Right now, I’m reading them chapters from my latest novel.
Outlined below are my “Guidelines for Critique Groups.” They’re based purely on my experiences — as a writer and a teacher. In fact, I use critique groups in all my creative writing classes at Washington State University Vancouver.
And what about that rejected manuscript, the one the editor said was sure to find a home? It’s still an orphan, filed away in a desk drawer, waiting for just the right editor. It’s gone through countless revisions and is a far better story now than it was back in 1990. I have my critique groups to thank for that, and someday, who knows? Maybe it will be a book.
I’ll let you know.
ritique groups exist for only one real purpose: to help writers write better. They’re based on the idea that good, solid, constructive criticism from other writers can strengthen a writer’s work before an intended audience ever sees the final draft. Revising and rewriting are the underpinnings of all critique groups.
Most writing groups form around a common discipline or audience. The writers share an interest in such genres as mystery, screenwriting, poetry, or serious adult fiction. Groups that cross writing genres usually don’t succeed because it’s hard to comment intelligently on a discipline you don’t write for or understand.
Size and Operation.
The optimal size for a critique group ranges from seven to ten writers. This way every writer should have a chance to read and receive constructive criticism on the work she or he wishes to present during a single meeting.
Most groups meet regularly, perhaps monthly or even weekly. In these groups, all members may not have something to read during a given meeting. Yet, they still attend the meeting--to provide criticism and encouragement to other writers in their group. Your role as constructive critic is just as important as your role as writer.
When Your Work Is Being Critiqued.
Go to critique group meetings expecting constructive criticism rather than unanimous praise. Your attitude toward the group’s comments can shape how productive they are for you.
Read a story, chapter, or passage that isn’t too long. Don’t impose too much on the goodwill of other members.
Listen to the group’s comments objectively. Don’t get defensive or argue with other members about their analysis of your work.
Write down comments that seem particularly meaningful and review them later--when you're ready to revise.
If you don’t understand a member’s comment, politely ask for clarification.
Don’t pass immediate judgement on the comments you receive; you may find that later on, the comment that struck you as completely irrelevant may have real merit after all.
Explain your writing intentions only if it’s absolutely necessary. In general, let your writing do all the talking.
When you're ready to revise, consider your group’s comments closely. Make changes only when you're absolutely convinced your group is right. If several members point to the same problem, you'd better fix it. If there’s one random voice asking for change, consider the suggestion, but make it only if you agree with the member’s analysis.
When You’re Critiquing Someone Else’s Work
Take notes as you listen to someone else’s reading. When writers provide copies of their work, make most of your comments directly on their manuscripts, particularly proofreading notations.
Take turns. Each member of the group should have an opportunity to analyze what’s been read.
Begin your analysis by describing positive points, what you thought the writer handled well. Be specific. “I like the dialogue between Liz and Sandy.” “Your transitions between paragraphs are very smooth.” “You use strong, active verbs.” “Carolyn’s character is very clear and appealing.”
Move on to problem spots in the writing, and be specific. “Your vocabulary choices in the third paragraph on page 78 seem too adult for a younger reader.” “Bernie’s motivations in this scene are confusing.” “The dialogue doesn’t sound real on page 44.” “Do you need all this description?”
If you notice minor spelling or punctuation errors, note them directly on xeroxed copies (when provided), and don’t mention them in your verbal analysis. That just takes up time. If, however, the writer makes the same mistakes repeatedly throughout a manuscript, politely point them out when it’s your turn to speak.
It’s okay to disagree with another member’s analysis. Someone else may find fault with the writer’s vocabulary choices. If you disagree, say so--and explain why...good-naturedly. Writers need to have a range of choices and opinions when it’s time to revise.
Above all else, be constructive. Your comments aren’t designed to showcase your brilliant analytical powers, but to help another writer create better work.
My First Critique Group. We're celebrating the publication of another terrific Graham Salisbury book! Front: Pamela Smith Hill, Graham Salisbury. Back: Doris Newman, Liz Vaughn, Carmen T. Bernier-Grand, Carolyn Conahan, and Bernie Meyer.
Another Critique Group. Here we're toasting the publication of Carmen T. Bernier-Grand's first novel. Front: Carmen T. Bernier-Grand, Marian Martin; Middle: Dorothy Nafus Morrison, Pamela Smith Hill, Susan Fletcher, Eloise Jarvis McGraw; Back: Milena McGraw, Winnie Morris; Margaret Bechard; Liz Morris.