Good Writers Need Good Readers!

As soon as I finish writing a poem, I need someone to read it. “Finish” is really the wrong word, since nearly every piece of writing can be improved. I find it difficult to bracket my mental framework long enough to evaluate my writing from the outside. Improvement requires fresh perspective. I need astute and honest readers to help me see what’s redundant, what’s missing, and what remains unclear. Writing requires hard work at the craft, but with good readers, a writer makes the jump to lightspeed.

We can begin by asking colleagues to read our pre-published work and offering to read theirs. In my experience, many writers hesitate to ask for readers. They don’t wish to impose, or they believe their work isn’t good enough to withstand critical scrutiny. We need to break through these understandable fears. Yes, reading another’s work takes time and effort but a request for help esteems a reader by appealing to their expertise. Your request implicitly authorizes that reader to ask for your help in return. And when a writer requests feedback, it’s important to come through by delivering thoughtful and timely comments that enable them to maintain momentum. Such feedback invites ongoing and mutual writing relationships.

When we take on the role of reader, we want to help but sometimes we don’t know how to frame our remarks. It’s easy to fall into the culture of nice by holding back critical comments, or to be blunt and give offense. I feel frustration when a reader tells me, “I love this poem—I can’t think of anything to change,” even though I appreciate the encouragement. But then I feel impatient when a reader insists, “You should delete this line,” or “put a stanza break here,” because such comments fail to disclose any reasoning. I learn nothing about the reader’s experience or how to improve future writings.

I have often wondered why writer conferences do not include workshops or programs on how to offer useful feedback. Like writing, reviewing another writer’s work is a complex skill that can be learned. The best resource I have found so far for providing reader feedback is Peter Elbow’s classic, Writing Without Teachers (New York: Oxford 1998). Ever since the first time I read that book, I have wanted to find a critique group like the kind he prescribes. We are each other’s best teachers, he argues. Yes, we still need professional teachers. But peer groups are cheaper and more accessible than an MFA or a workshop. And all writers need good readers!

I try to remind myself of the following tips when offering comments on another writer’s work.

Name the strengths

Too often, writers remain blind to their own brilliance. They overlook it and take it for granted, focusing only on their shortcomings. Writers need to appreciate the inherent wisdom that drives their writing. So instead of diving into weak points, let the writer know what makes their writing sing—what stands out, what catches attention, what distinguishes the piece from others of its kind. If we first highlight what’s working, a writer can usually take it from there and make many improvements on their own.

Narrate your reading experience

After reading a story or poem, it’s easy to focus on what we like and dislike, but a reader’s feelings and opinions are irrelevant to a writer. While writers generally hope their readers will enjoy their writing, it’s more important to know what works and what doesn’t. Describing one’s reading experience gives a writer factual information without value judgments. After all, it’s up to the writer, not the reader, to decide how a poem or story should work. So instead of saying, “I liked this section,” let the writer know why. You might say, “this image sets the scene,” or “when I read this word, I thought of thunderstorms (or whatever).” Specific details give a writer information they can use.

Describing your reading experience also conveys what doesn’t work, but in nonjudgmental terms. Instead of saying, “I don’t like this,” explain what confused you, where you got lost, or what you found distracting. This way, instead of discouragement, you offer clues about how to fix the problem. Narrating your reading experience puts the focus where it belongs—on the work, not the author.

Distinguish between the poet, the poem, and the poem’s speaker

Poetry and fiction give writers the freedom to create worlds and adopt personae within those worlds. Successful writing draws readers into these created worlds. The more creative the writing, the more fictive the landscape and its characters. It’s a mistake to assume that the “I” of a story or poem represents its author. Comments that confuse the author with the story or conflate the poet and the speaker in a poem miss the mark and deprive a writer of useful feedback.

Instead of saying, “You need to say more about your experience,” or “I like it when you told how you felt about this event,” see yourself as a visitor within the boundaries of the poem or story under review. Reframe comments like, “You sound angry in this line” with comments like, “The poem’s speaker expresses rage in this section.” Honoring the boundaries of the author’s created world preserves the writer’s privacy and helps them to fill out their landscape with vivid detail.

Find unwritten possibilities

There’s more to reader feedback than tinkering with whatever already exists on the page. Step back to see the bigger picture. Based on how a story or poem works, try to envision what might happen, given the parameters the writing sets forth. Instead of focusing on commas or subject-object agreement, notice where passages might be rearranged or how a poetic line could be repeated. Read the poem from the bottom up, starting with the final line and moving to the beginning. Think about the title, the length of the piece, and whether the bits that don’t seem to fit might become seeds for another, separate writing. Such feedback helps a writer to let go of their insecurities and focus on what’s possible.

Try to get what the writer is trying to do

Sometimes the most imaginative ideas require sustained effort to fully manifest themselves. Look past the flaws. Too often, readers come to a poem with an invisible template in mind—the ideal poem or the type of story they like best. A reader who can see how a story works on its own terms or how a poem’s parts fit together is less likely to focus too narrowly or to squeeze the writing into well-worn tropes.

Squinting until you perceive the author’s objective is especially helpful when you think a piece contains fundamental flaws or seems unfinished. Instead of handing a broken machine back to the author, seize the glints of the author’s unique vision and cheer them on. When you show an author that you understand where they are trying to go, it encourages them to dig deeper. Pointing out what else you need to fill out the picture helps them to take the next step.

For me, literary citizenship entails reading others’ work and offering useful feedback. Cultivating a community of readers benefits everyone, readers and writers alike, and it’s the quickest way I have found to improve my own writing!

What’s missing from my description of a good reader? What’s your experience of giving and receiving reader feedback? What sort of comments do you most appreciate? I’d love to hear your wish-list!