Zae is Still Dreaming

We often judge a character’s kindness the same way we would the Powerpuff Girls: are they made of sugar, spice, and everything nice? I’m here to tell you that while sweetness can be indicative of kindness, it is not synonymous with it.

Characters are not only kind because they cannot fathom being cruel. Characters can be kind because they know just how cruel they can be and opt for compassion instead.

Characters are not only kind because they think nothing of themselves and only think of others. Characters can be kind because they desperately want someone to show them the same consideration after a lifetime of manipulation and rejection.

Characters are not only kind because they love to help with every little issue. Characters can be kind because they fear what will happen if they’re not, if no one else rises and all goodness falls away - and they see the same uncertainty in the person they’re assisting.

Characters are not only kind when they keep their mouths clean and their words affable. Characters can be kind by delivering painful truths while the world would let you live with honeyed lies, but they’ll help you grieve and grow from them.

I’ve encountered a lot of feedback over the years.

Feedback that’s good, bad, or cocktail of both — from the 15 workshops I joined in college (including my time in the MFA) to my current experiences as a copywriter.

I’ve also learned how to get the most out of all that feedback. So this week I decided to share six types of story feedback and what do with each.

The Opinion is completely subjective feedback, and its purpose is to gauge what is and isn’t working for readers on a personal level. Isolated opinions offer some insight, but in general, you’ll want to pay attention to the patterns that emerge from multiple readers’ opinions.

Focus on: doubling down on the things your readers tend to like, and consider dialing back the things they don’t like.

Ignore: suggestions for phrasings, story elements, or plot directions that are purely a matter of taste and go counter to your vision.

The Misdiagnosis is feedback where the reader has noticed something wrong in your writing, but they struggle to identify the issue — so they “misdiagnose” the problem. It’s tempting to think this is a False Alarm (#6), but this type of feedback is actually very common and well intentioned, so be on the lookout!

Focus on: reverse engineering the true problem by closely reading the feedback and the passage it applies to. After identifying the real issue, work on a solution.

Ignore: their original diagnosis and any suggestions that are now irrelevant.

The Bad Remedy gets one step further than the Misdiagnosis. Here, the reader correctly identifies the problem, but the solution they provide either doesn’t solve the issue, is overly subjective (see #1), or has a negative ripple effect that the reader didn’t expect.

Focus on: determining a new solution that works for your story and style.

Ignore: any solutions that aren’t right for your story.

The Right Cure is the best kind of feedback, because it not only properly diagnoses a problem in your story, but also provides an effective solution. This feedback is easy to identify when it hits like a lightning-strike revelation — but sometimes the accuracy of the feedback or the tone of its delivery puts us on the defensive. We might try to write it off as an Opinion or False Alarm, but it’s important to accept the Right Cure when it’s offered.

Focus on: following the feedback. You can still tweak or build upon the solution if better ideas come to you; just make sure you’re still solving the problem.

Ignore: any temptation to dismiss the feedback out of pride or a feeling of being wronged due to an uncouth delivery.

The Divination is any feedback that provides the right solution to a problem, even when the reader misdiagnoses (or doesn’t try to diagnose) the problem itself. This often arises when a reader critiques mostly by feel, and while they may struggle to articulate why something is wrong, they feel something is wrong and are able to identify an effective solution. This type of feedback can often look like an Opinion since it lacks justification, but it’s always worth considering.

Focus on: identifying whether their suggestion improves the story, and if it does, implement it.

Ignore: the feedback if you’re confident it’s just an Opinion that doesn’t align with your vision for the story.

The False Alarm is feedback that tries to solve a problem that isn’t there. This type generally comes from a reader who’s distracted, reading too quickly, or trying too hard to find things to criticize (which can occasionally happen in formal critique settings like workshops, where some feel pressure to always contribute). Note, however, that this type of feedback is rare; what you think is a False Alarm is more often than not a Misdiagnosis, a Bad Remedy, or even a poorly delivered Right Cure.

Focus on: identifying whether the feedback actually is a False Alarm or something legitimate.

Ignore: the feedback, but only if you’re absolutely confident it’s a False Alarm. (If you find yourself receiving a lot of False Alarms, reflect on whether you’re dismissing too much feedback, and if you aren’t, consider looping in some new readers.)

Some Parting Rules of Thumb

Now that you have a grasp on these different types of feedback, I want to leave you with some general rules of thumb for revision:

Assume all feedback has the potential to improve your story, even if parts of it are misguided.

Know that everyone is capable of providing helpful feedback, even if they’re less experienced than you are.

Remember your vision as a writer matters, so don’t feel obligated to follow feedback that pushes your story in a direction that contradicts what you set out to create.

Never mistake the need for feedback as a shortcoming; instead, recognize it as an opportunity. Everyone needs feedback, but not everyone is willing to seek it out.

Good luck, and good writing, everybody! I hope this helps you sift through the feedback on your next story.

— — —

2) The main purpose of language is to communicate. Even if communication is a little awkward, as long as we can understand what the other person is trying to say, there’s no need for it to be perfect.

For reference, this is what she’s talking about :

to the minors who follow me:

Please R&R!!!!!!!

my children, there was another before it, older and untagged

your narrator’s perspective will limit your descriptions

if your narrator is a normal 18 yr old girl in high school, living in a conventional town with a conventional life but is then, within your novel, thrown in conflict that has to do with a murder mystery where weapons or guns are involved, etc., then 

1. don’t turn her into a sherlock

don’t give your narrator random facts they ‘just know’ off the top of their head in order to solve a problem, no matter how big the mystery was. the exception to this is if the clues had a direct connection to something in their past. if you’re stretching yourself while connecting the dots to solve the big mystery in your novel, chances are your readers will find it cheap or far-fetched.

2. don’t describe weapons with their actual names, such as a Push Dagger or a Ka-Bar combat knife. describe it the way you yourself would if you hadn’t done any research.

you wouldn’t see a OKC-3S bayonet, you’d see a dull-gray blade situated on a brown-leathered handle that looked like it came right out of an Indiana Jones movie.

3. in a fight scene, make it realistic by placing yourself in the situation. would you use an suave upper cut and turn into a female, teen Bruce Lee to maneuver your way out of the brawl?

no. you’d be too scared to move. you’d be slapping and struggling your way out.

and like....that's the kind of assignment description I'd get in school that would make me cry in front of a blank screen for several hours. i mean, a chapterbook is like a collection of essays and I've gone and told myself to write 100 of them at 3k each and like an absolute dunce I'm actually doing it. for fun

Creating Content

1. Wrote the key scene, the ending, months ago. The beginning picked up where the last chapter left off so that was pretty easy.

2. Hand wrote filler, scenery, and character interactions over the next couple months. No cohesion, just stuff I knew needed to be covered and stuff that could fill in the edges. Included subjects that readers need to keep fresh in their minds because they will matter in the upcoming chapters.

3. Wrote a basic outline that put my handwritten scenes in order. This is a character driven chapter with emotional impact, so I developed a flow of scenes that would get my characters from Emotional Status A to Emotional Status B. This was to prep both characters and readers for upcoming plot developments.

Removing Distractions from Workspace

Left my bedroom and used someone else's desk

Ate food and completed chores

Left my tablet in another room

Tried to stay off internet, failed repeatedly

Told myself I can play video games when I'm done writing

"You'll be done by eight anyway!"

Put on headphones and turned on a rain playlist

Kept water, gum, and a handweight on desk to keep me focused

Crafting A Chapter

1. The only way for me to do this is to sit down and do it all in one sitting. I try writing a little and walking away for three weeks, but then I forget what was going on. Especially in an emotional chapter, I need to stay in the mood for the words to flow naturally.

2. Located all handwritten scenes and typed them up. This took a while and involved a highlighter for scenes I want to keep and a pen to strike out useless stuff I should ignore.

3. The hard part, stitching the scenes together. This took two days. Many sentences were lost, but overall the tone and flow of the chapter prevailed. This required moving some scenes around and changing paragraphs or dialogue so that they led into the newly attached scene seamlessly. When there was no way to fit a scene anywhere, I trimmed it down for spare parts or cut it completely. During the process, if I realized something important needed to be added, I found a way to fit it into a gap or replace a less important scene.

4. Once I had an entire chapter finished from beginning to end, I put it through ttsreader and had it read back to me. I then altered, edited, removed, or added bits wherever it sounded like it needed it. This gets easier with a trained ear, and I accepted that I might disagree with my own changes in a few days.

And that's it!

I totally didn't get cranky during any part of the process at all, nope. Now I just have to rinse and repeat for the next chapter.

Thankfully, while handwriting scenes for this chapter I also wrote some content for the next one. There are also scrap scenes already in my file that I wrote forever ago, and I'll see if they work for the upcoming chapters. That's why writeblrs tend to repeat the "write everyday" and "never delete anything!" advice. You never know when a random plot bunny or piece of dialogue you jotted down will save your current writing predicament.

I once received a DM comprised of just that sentence. Nothing else. No constructive criticism or any reason as to why this person clearly agreed with my own view of myself.

For someone who has never told anyone in their real life that they write anything, reading something like this from an anonymous user only solidified in my mind the fact that this person was right.

I’m not a good writer.

After an embarrassing amount of minutes passed, in which I thought about deleting every story I ever posted, I decided to delete the message instead. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean I could delete the feelings it caused or change the fact that I’m not a good writer.

Two weeks went by and I didn’t write anything, let alone post. Then I received a comment on a story I had posted three years prior, one I’d written after a death in our family. The comment read, “Thank you for sharing this heartfelt story. I really needed this. I just lost my mom and this really got me today.”

I stopped thinking about being a good writer after that. I thought instead, “what if I had deleted my stories and that one person three years later hadn’t read it that day?”

Here’s what I realized: no one is a good writer.

Good means to be approved of, but stories aren’t created from approval. They’re built from life experiences, feelings, and emotions Therefore, the impact of anyone’s story isn’t good or bad. It’s a million other things.

Heartfelt.

Sad.

Funny.

Inspiring.

Romantic.

So to all the story writers out there, hold your head up, write what is in your heart, and never doubt that there isn’t at least one person out there that needs to read your story.

So, no.

Actors of color often get typecast. Two photographers asked them to depict their dream roles instead.