by Tosh McIntosh

In over a decade of critique group participation, I’ve experienced both the extraordinary benefit of diversity among the vast majority of members and the painful agony of a few who frankly didn’t belong for one reason or another. This post is a footnote to this one in which I borrowed a guest post from the blog of a well-known literary agent. It contains a list of the top ten types of critique group members no one wants.

This is not to suggest in any way that NIP–Austin has any members who can be categorized as belonging on the list. Of far more significance is how fortunate we are to participate in a collective effort with others of like mind, and who are committed to respectful discourse as we each travel our respective writer’s journeys. My objective here is only to offer for your consideration some ideas for tweaking the roundtable experience for us all.

Any such attempt has to begin with the submission. We have a format, well-established, tested, and the parameters are readily available. While writing effective stories isn’t about formatting, taking care to eliminate typos and page-layout glitches is appreciated by your fellow members because it better allows them to concentrate on the writing.

Cover sheets are included because they allow the writer to provide the group with standard information we need prior to preparing our critiques. Cover sheets also offer the opportunity to present specific details that assist the group in directing our attention to elements of the submission of special interest to the writer. Let’s look at ways in which cover sheets impact the roundtable experience at both ends of the pen.

Title: Without going deeper into the important contribution of title to the packaging of a novel, the issue here is whether the writer’s choice for a title as indicated on the cover sheet merits discussion at roundtable. In my opinion, the answer to that question should be available on the cover sheet as well. If the submission represents the opening pages of a novel in first draft, the title could be a working one or the author’s final choice. But in either case, it has little bearing on that day’s critiques. If the submission represents a portion of a novel described as being polished and ready for prime time, expressing an opinion in your verbal critique might be of interest to the group, but only if we acknowledge the reality that authors often fail to grasp: along with cover design, choice of title is not a creative decision nearly so much as a marketing one.

Genre/Market: This topic shares a common characteristic with that of premise in its ability to generate endless and ultimately fruitless discussion among writers, some of whom write to genre and some ignore it while they are writing. I submit that in both cases, it serves little purpose to spend a lot of time talking about it in roundtable unless the book is ready for publication. And even then, it’s like trying to nail Jell-O to the ceiling, because the truest definition of genre comes not from what any of us think, but from reader expectation. In addition, Amazon’s gorilla-in-the-room impact on the industry has turned genre into a shell game in which authors manipulate the algorithms that define a novel’s ranking. I believe that within this constantly shifting maze, the effectiveness of our genre/market labels can’t be validated until the book is offered for sale.

Type of review requested: In general, this item is often the one most lacking in its contribution to the communication between the author and the group. Our template mentions that, “Any and all comments welcome is a good choice.” But that can be misleading unless the submission represents the final draft or close to it. If, for example, the submission consists of the opening 25 pages in first draft, a critique that addresses line/copy editing and proofreading will most likely be a wasted effort. It makes little sense to spend time pointing out a missing quotation mark, or suggesting a “happy to glad” word change, when in all probability the pages will either never make it into the final draft, or fail to do so without substantial revision.

Reviewer’s interest in/experience with this genre: If a reviewer begins their verbal comments with, “I don’t read [insert genre here], but . . . “, everything that follows needs to be accompanied by a mental asterisk that in effect labels the expressed opinions as potentially suspect. Every genre as defined by reader expectation contains structural elements in combinations that provide the type of story most attractive to the target audience. The group collectively, and roundtable authors individually, need to keep this in mind when offering and receiving critiques.

Premise: As noted in the Genre/Market paragraph above, discussions about what a premise is or isn’t, whether it’s useful, and should you write one before beginning the novel or after, generally end up by calling a truce. I liken it to the following (paraphrased) quote regarding the Oxford (serial) comma: “Never position yourself between two writers on opposite sides of this never-ending debate when strong drink is involved.” Amen to that, and as noted on the cover sheet, if you want feedback, include whatever you think is the premise of your novel and standby to be told how wrong you are.

Jacket blurb: Although similar to premise in terms of the wide variety of opinions about what constitutes an effective one, the jacket blurb serves a totally different purpose. When considering the typical sequence readers use when searching for a novel, it bridges the gap between the cover and the sample pages. If any of the three fails to do its job, you don’t sell a book.

The story so far: A condition known as installment-itis is unavoidable for any submissions other than the opening pages. There is no cure, and the only treatment is an effective summary of the most important story elements. Without it, readers familiar with the story can’t refresh themselves on what’s happened up to now, and those who haven’t seen all of the previous submissions are trying to hop aboard a moving train with no idea where it’s been or headed now. Taking the time to write a good story so far can pay dividends in the form of better critiques, and I encourage you to do yourself and fellow NIPers the favor of providing one.