A Tale of Two Critiques (Voices in a Writer’s Head)
Writers always hear voices. Mostly in our heads.
A well-traveled joke says, “Writer’s block is when your imaginary friends stop speaking to you.”
And “imposter syndrome” lurks in the back of every writer’s mind. It has a voice of its own, too. Typically unpleasant.
Some of the voices are external; voices we’ve invited to critique or comment on our work. This can be a public reading, a local writers’ group, or—at a writing conference—outside experts offering their insights and suggestions.
I had some interesting adventures with external voices at a conference a number of years ago.
Slush Pile “Live”
Slush piles are unsolicited manuscripts that show up at publishing houses. In-house editors scour through the literal pile, looking for gems. Prevailing wisdom at writing conferences warns that the first editors who read your work are looking for reasons to reject it. This is due to the massive volume of unsolicited manuscripts, not because they get a kick out of crushing new authors. If our first page doesn’t capture their attention, there’s a huge—again, literal—pile of others.
Slush Pile ”Live” is a simple exercise at a writing conference, with only a few requirements:
- A panel of four experts (editors, publishers, seasoned writers),
- Any number of authors willing to (anonymously) submit their first page,
- A person skilled at pubic reading of said pages,
- A room full of expectant, nail-biting authors, and,
- Medical triage for the survivors.
That last item may be fictional … but it’s not a bad idea.
There are usually far more submissions than time will allow, leaving the aspiring authors on pins and needles, wondering if their page will be read. The process is straightforward:
- The reader begins to read.
- If a panelist hears anything they’d deem unworthy, they raise a hand.
- If three of the panelists raise their hands before the page is finished, the reading stops.
- The panelists then explain why.
- Repeat.
All writers want and need outside critique and feedback. I’m no exception, so I decided to dive into the deep end and submit the first page of a novel I was working on. About halfway through the session, the first words of my novel rang from the reader’s lips. Pulse quickening, breath held, I listened with anticipationg …
For a grand total of 122 words. Three hands shot up before a third of the page had been read. The feedback was swift and merciless.
They hated it.
Now I had a new trio of voices in my head, pouring gasoline on my imposter syndrome and turning it into a pyromaniac’s pièce de résistance.
Is Your Manuscript Ready for Publishing?
I’d also submitted the first three chapters of the same novel for a one-on-one session entitled, “Is Your Manuscript Ready for Publishing?” I’d sent my submission several weeks earlier, as required, and was given an appointment to discuss what the editor thought.
After the slush blood-letting session, I wondered if there was any point in going. But I managed to silence the three newest voices in my head and went.
TWO editors waited inside the consultation room (gulp). They looked perplexed for a minute or two, checking the papers in front of them, and then informed me that my submission must’ve been lost somehow. They didn’t have it.
Wow. This just wasn’t my day.
But then …
The editorial duo gave me their personal emails, invited me to resubmit, and promised to look it over later that night. We scheduled a breakfast meeting for the next day to discuss my work.
We had a lively and insightful meeting (and a lot of coffee). They liked what I’d written … AND they gave specific and surgical critiques about improving the manuscript. After we parted ways, I couldn’t wait to get back to writing and revising.
Ironic Bottom Line: All voices from that weekend had basically the same message: you’ve got more work to do.
I’ll bet you already know which voices I found motivating and inspirational.