Dear Huma: who reads your drafts?

Dear Huma,

I recently wrote a life writing piece for my creative writing course; I wrote it as a letter ie in the epistolary form. My tutor loved the story but was on the fence about the letter form. So I did the brave thing and sent it out to some people to read. Some said they loved the form, others said they were also on the fence. In the end I was so confused, I kept it the way it was. I submitted it to a competition, not because I’m expecting something, but because I wanted to have done it so that I wouldn’t regret it later on, had I not submitted it. But what would you have done? Who reads your drafts and when do you show other people your work? Do you change things based on other people’s feedback or suggestions?

–Alice

Dear Alice,

Ah, what would I have done? Well, you are braver than me. Truthfully, I don’t think I would have sent a piece I’d been working on out for general feedback to people, friends or otherwise. I think I would have agonised for days about what the tutor meant and worked myself up into a state about it even though they loved the story. And I doubt very much I’d have had the courage to submit it to a competition. So: bravo!

But seriously, that said, I understand why you sent your piece out to other people to read: you’re on a creative writing course and you’re willing to put yourself out there, take feedback on board so that you can learn from it, make your writing even better. In which case, can I just say: hats off to you. I still find the idea of sharing my works-in-progress with people beyond my very trusted circle of all but two people (my agent and editor) very frightening. But putting yourself out there, being open to criticism both positive and otherwise, is all part of the process, and it’s great that you did it, no matter how terrifying it might have felt. You did that, knowing it was scary, and that’s awesome.

I do find it curious that your tutor said they were ‘on the fence.’ Did they give you any specific, concrete feedback on what exactly they meant by this, examples of what they didn’t think worked or suggestions on what you could try? I would like to think they did, as that’s the kind of feedback I’d imagine you’d want from a course, but if they didn’t, I’d ask for specifics the next time anything like this comes up. Specific feedback will be far more helpful to you than something vague. I think it’s wonderful that you had people you could turn to, and send your work out too, but I’d also be choosy about who you include in that inner circle; you want someone whose opinion you highly rate and someone who can offer constructive criticism, someone who will send you a long juicy email with optional bullet points (I’m only half joking here).

As for what I do, and when I seek out feedback? These days the only person who will ever see a work in progress is my agent, but it won’t be until I’ve got to a point where I feel ready to bring her into whatever I’m writing. Those early, messy drafts; they need to get to where they need to be first, and I need to do that for me, on my own. So I show her when I’m ready, which is when I feel something is maybe half decent or I’ve reached a point where I feel like I’ve gone as far as I can go. And then she convinces me to send it to my editor (because I do need convincing, because there’s always that unfounded fear of parting with work before it feels perfect), and so I do. My editor loves a list as much as I do, and I get the most insightful, useful sort of feedback ever in this way. And I always wish I’d listened to my agent and sent my editor my words sooner rather than later. Having written for so many years on my own, I love now having this support behind me and am so very grateful for it.

But before I had my agent and editor, I didn’t really send my work to anyone. I guess I was a little embarrassed and I also didn’t know who to send my stuff to even if I wanted to. With no disrespect to any of my friends, I didn’t think they’d be that (and I hesitate to use the word) er, useful. I mean that in the nicest possible way; I think they’d have just said, ‘It’s great!’ when it wasn’t. They’d have spared my feelings.

Looking back, I suppose I used story competitions as a very simple way of giving myself feedback, though I probably didn’t realise that was what I was doing at the time. I figured that if I ever got longlisted or shortlisted for something, then maybe it meant I was doing something right. Of course, it’s not like I got listed for anything straight away. I used to look up the winning stories and I’d read them, and try and see what they’d done differently, better, than me. It made me want to strive for something. I read my favourite writers to learn from them, to try and figure out where my writing was lacking. I am my harshest critic, so being critical of my own writing isn’t sadly that hard for me to do. Eventually I made it to those longlists and then those shortlists and then occasionally the wins came through.

Before I sent Things out to agents for submission, I did however pay someone, a former editor from a publishing house, to read it. She had just gone freelance, and was offering a review service. I was ready to pursue publication seriously, and I wanted to know that my manuscript was as polished as it could be. She gave me feedback and yes, I took it on board and I edited my draft accordingly. This is partly because she was an editor I admired, I’d paid for her services and I trusted her opinion. But also, most importantly, I agreed with her. Everything she suggested made absolute sense and I could see how they’d make my stories better. Her feedback gave me all the aha! moments I was hoping it would and it made me more confident about sending my manuscript out. 

Now, if I was studying, like you, I wouldn’t pay for a service like this, and I’m not suggesting you do– not at this stage. But if and when you get to a point where you’ve got a body of work and you seriously want to be published, then yes, a proper editorial review can be so incredibly helpful. You don’t have to do it, but I found it invaluable. If you (or anyone else reading) ever decide to go down this route at a later stage in your writing, then please make sure you choose someone reputable with editorial/ writing experience (there are good publishing-type organisations that do this).

My last word on this is: don’t be afraid of following your own instinct. It’s wonderful that you had people you could count on to send your work to, but you ended up feeling confused because too many people were telling you different things. Next time, before you send them a piece, think carefully about how your own writing makes you feel. Sit with it, feel it. Take a position on it. Ask yourself what works, what doesn’t. Ask yourself why. Read it aloud, hear it, feel it. Trust your judgement and don’t be afraid to stand by what you think works, what you believe in for your writing. Allow yourself to see what’s good about it, not just what isn’t (I need to take this bit of advice myself). And finally, don’t worry too much about what other people think. It will rob your writing of something true. And by true, I’m not talking about genre, non-fiction or fiction, I’m talking about the rawness, the tenderness, of writing from your heart, always, because above all that is what counts.

/ 

And with that, I’ll let you go. Just a little word to say that incidentally some of what I talk about above, learning to follow your intuition, analysing a story to see what works, editing your own work, asking questions of your work, is what I talk about in much greater depth in my writing course, Miniature Worlds too. I don’t want to keep going on about it, and I’m sorry if it feels like I am, but also: I do believe in everything I’ve put into the course, and I really think it’s got something to offer (and by it, I guess I mean ‘me’). 

The course starts on Monday, 31st October and runs for eight weeks. It takes the form of weekly essays, audio recordings, writing tasks and recommended reading, plus you’ll have access to me throughout over email; it goes far further than anything I might teach in an hour-long face-to-face workshop where it’s impossible to go too deep because of time constraints. For an in-depth look at what’s involved in the course and details about cost, the payment plan, and how to sign up, please head here.

Thank you so much to those of you who have already signed up or expressed an interest in it. 

Also, I’m collecting questions for the next few months of ‘Dear Huma’ so please do, write back and send your questions in!

With love,

Huma

ps (the limited pay-what-you-can places have now sold out, thank you for signing up. I wish I could offer more, and I very much hope to be able to offer more next time the course runs.)