I’m still out of the office—but don’t worry, I’ve got another great guest post, this one from my fellow editor and writer April Line. She’s writing a memoir. And revising it.

The Joy and Pain of Revision

I love revising. I love rereading an essay or story after thirty-six hours or a week and thinking, I wrote that? Me? I have the memory of a moth when it comes to my own words.

But there’s another sort of writer: The writer who argues. My graduate workshops have been a touch belligerent in spots.

In my undergrad workshops, we were strictly forbidden to argue. We were instructed to hold all our words inside our faces until the last minutes of the critique. We could only speak if someone asked a question that was immediately pertinent to the discussion.

Resultantly, nothing bugs me more than writers who argue with people who give them solid, constructive notes.

Arguing countermands the process, and it is insulting to the reader. It comes off as ungrateful to a person who has taken no small time and effort to read your work and comment thoughtfully. It also makes the person offering the critique wonder why she took the time. It makes the writer sound like she thinks the people with whom she’s trusted her darlings are stupid.

Here are some tips if you get belligerent (or even if you don’t) when you get workshopped, critiqued, or when your friends/teachers/family members/beta readers return your draft with notes:

1. Take it in. Even if you bristle initially, as you endure more critique, you will probably stop bristling or bristle less. Listen with your whole brain. Do not plan what you’re going to say next. Some deep breathing or meditation before a critique session can help. Take notes. Sometimes people will say lovely, poetic things about your work, or notice something you didn’t intend but could really work in revision.

2. Take a little break. Nothing is better for revision than the space of time. Go back to the work with the notes in hand (in a separate window on screen, printed, whatever strikes your fancy) and read with fresh eyes.

3. If you’re worried, stop. If you’re concerned about slashing words you like for one reason or another, take them out of the draft and put them in a text file or print them and put them in a folder or whatever works for you. I use a folder in my Scrivener workbook called “Dead Childs.” I have all manner of file names on my hard drive: Dead babies, slaughtered darlings, abortions. There’s nothing wrong with amusing yourself in this endeavor. Laughter, as they say, is the best medicine.

4. Use a journal to capture ideas. Or a smart phone app or a dicta-phone. Just don’t let the ideas get away. As you revise, your characters and scenes will be on your mind. You won’t always be able to leap to your keyboard to tweak, so make notes to jog your memory later. And who knows? Maybe those notes will turn into more complicated revision or show you that your first idea was best after all (though don’t count on the latter).

5. Get some exercise. No joke. I’ve been on this little break from the gym, and I have been a depressive weirdo. Sweat is therapeutic. And it eddies into every single area of your life. It motivates you to eat well, makes your rest more efficient, and trust me when I tell you it will make your writing time easier to achieve, your goals seem more reachable, and revision will suck a lot less. Strong body = strong mind.

Now: go revise.

April Line is a writer, editor, teacher, blogger, thinker, feminist, and life liver. She holds a bachelor’s degree in English and creative writing and is presently working toward her MFA at Wilkes University. April is also an instructor at Pennsylvania College of Technology who tells her students to keep listening, because if they’re not listening, they can’t be surprised.

* Does it feel that your life’s become a catastrophe? / Oh, it has to be for you to grow, boy. (Rick Davies, Roger Hodgson, 1978, on Breakfast in America by Supertramp)

 

Tweet: Rules for critiques (and life): Listen with your whole brain.
Tweet: Rules for writing criticism: don’t argue.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I have not received any compensation for writing this post. I have no material connection to the brands, products, or services that I have mentioned. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”