I love helping writers.
Well, most of them.
I learned the hard way that not all writers are created equal.
And I don’t mean talent.
I mean mindset.
I had a client once who won a 20-page critique in a giveaway I did for an organization close to my heart. This client came to me with nothing to lose. Feedback and a coaching call were all free. Some of my favorite interactions with writers have been from giveaways like this and so I went in very excited.
I sent this person my onboarding materials and one of the writer’s answers to my standard questionnaire gave me pause.
Was it a full on red flag? 🚩
I didn’t think so then.
Now I know better.
The fact is, this person wasn’t open to feedback.
Not really.
I realized this when I checked in after sending my written feedback and they had yet to schedule our coaching call. This writer’s lengthy response to my feedback was harsh (that I can take), demeaning (not okay), and downright cruel (completely uncalled for).
The writer agreed with the many compliments I had showered on the writing and then lashed out about anything I pointed out as a place that needed work or clarification.
As someone open to feedback, I spent a good deal of time with this writer’s response attempting to suss out where I might have failed them so I could be sure not to do so again.
But in between rereading the lines of personal character attack and accusations of outright incompetence (although apparently only where I offered criticism and not praise), I realized that this writer’s response to my feedback wasn’t constructive at all.
Nor was it actually about me.
The writer merely wanted a rubber stamp of approval, I guess. A gold star. Fawning praise.
And while I did provide praise, I did also provide opportunities for improvement. It’s my assumption that if you come to me, or any writing professional, for help, you are open to receiving it.
I don’t assume this anymore.
I apologized that the experience wasn’t what this writer had hoped for and opted not to take part in the coaching call.
Writing is hard and personal and feels like our insides splattered on a page for all to judge. I don’t take the role of early reader to a writer’s stories lightly. I know, because I’m a writer, too, and I’ve been on the receiving end of feedback. Good and bad. Thoughtful and cursory.
I’m not saying that writers have to accept all feedback as holy truth, but it is always something we should sit with, analyze, and see if (after the emotional reaction fades) it resonates in some way.
In fact, as I was writing this post this week, an article I contributed a quote to on Writer Unboxed by the incomparable Barbara Linn Probst went live about how, as the writer, do you determine which feedback to trust and implement. And spoiler alert: It’s about taking some time.
Just like we have to take some time between drafting and revision to let our stories settle and our mindset shift from writer to editor, we need to take some time with feedback and really question it to make sure it serves our story.
But I want to remind you, dear writers, that, unfortunately:
Growth hurts.
Caterpillars literally melt into goo before reconstituting as butterflies.
We need to do that with our stories sometimes, too.
Read feedback and surrender ourselves to the goo before taking only the most beautiful parts and reconstituting our stories.
So if you’re looking for someone to tell you that your story is perfect as is?
Yeah…no. That’s not going to be me.
BUT, if you’re looking for someone to tell you all the beautiful parts of your manuscript and how to level up the less than beautiful parts with a little elbow grease and some unwavering support?
Let’s chat.
The good news?
I have never since had to turn a writer away for not being open to growing their skills.
But if I even get a whiff of rigidity in how a writer may receive feedback? Sorry. Hard pass.
I’m on the search for butterflies.
🦋 🦋 🦋 🦋
If you are interested in how a book coach can help your writing process AND are open to feedback, I invite you to schedule a call to see if we’re a good fit for each other.
Featured photo by Jonathon Pinet on Unsplash