The Danger of Seeking Feedback
The act of seeking feedback on your writing is exhilarating. It means you have created something solid enough to share, whether it’s a newly formed idea you have decided to pursue or a complete manuscript you have decided to publish, and it means that you have hope that other people may see value in it. Your writing may even delight them, inspire them, thrill them, offer them a chance to learn and grow and change, or give them a reason to get up in the morning when the world seems very bleak.
The act of seeking feedback is also of course, terrifying, because you are inviting judgment. You are opening yourself up to the possibility that what you have made is not as good as you hoped, not as original as you had hoped, not as impactful, not as important, not as effective, not as dazzling. You may learn that you have a lot to learn about writing and a long way to go to pin to the page the story or book that is so alive in your mind.
Balancing the possibility of exhilaration and terror is something most writers can learn to manage, but what we don’t tend to factor in is the possibility of actual danger in the act of seeking feedback — danger to the work and danger to the writer.
Writing is not just the act of sitting at a keyboard long enough to produce a bunch of words. It’s an act of claiming your power. It’s an act of claiming your story and raising your voice. It’s saying to the entire world, “I have something to say, and I want to be heard.”
And this is exactly what is at stake when writers seek feedback on their work.
Their self-worth.
Their sense of self.
Their confidence.
Their drive.
The hope of every writer is that feedback will galvanize them towards writing a better book, but in some cases, when a writer’s trust is violated, it can be devastating, and do the opposite.
I have written extensively about the damage that writing groups can do (HERE and HERE); and about the damage friends and family can do when they are asked to give feedback (click HERE to download a PDF on the Universe of Support); and about the importance of going to the right editor for the right task (HERE and HERE). Today I am writing about the damage a teacher or mentor or coach can do.
The Damage a Teacher or Mentor or Book Coach Can Do
I recently got an email from Erin Michelle, of erinwritesmagic book coaching, one of Author Accelerator’s book coaching students nearing certification. I had asked her if she would speak to a potential book coaching student about doing the program while also being a single mom. Erin was in my Business of Book Coaching mastermind at the beginning of COVID times, and her little boy frequently popped onto the screen to say hi. Erin would let him watch a movie to buy her an hour to work on her business with us, so I knew exactly how she was juggling these competing responsibilities.
In the mastermind, Erin was working on her “why” — the key question for any writer or book coach. She specializes in speculative fiction and fantasy — which is to say, fiction that is built on the idea of our world taking a very different turn. She was designing programs to help dreamy world-builders define their world so that they can stop spinning around all the details and get to the work of writing their stories. So often speculative fiction writers get stuck in the details of world-building and never get out. It’s a powerful premise for a book coaching business, because a coach who can go deep into their world with them and also see the larger story, would be invaluable in this genre.
But Erin didn’t just want to focus on a certain kind of writing; she wanted to focus her business on a certain kind of writer: writers from marginalized populations (like BIPOC, queer, transgendered, and disabled writers) whose voices are so often silenced. This double-definition kind of writing, kind of writer — is a win-win for a book coaching business, and what I urge every book coach to develop.
I asked Erin why — why this focus? She herself is a white cisgender woman. Why had she placed her focus where she had? For a few weeks, she couldn’t answer — and then one day she could. Through tears, she shared with the mastermind that she identified so strongly with marginalized voices because of the ways she herself had been a victim of abuse. She said she didn’t want to live in a world where marginalized people of any kind were kept down.
It was a moving moment; through the creation of her business, Erin was creating the kind of world she wanted to live in. She was galvanized to take action for her business.
Fast forward a few months to my asking Erin to speak to the potential book coaching student about the program. She did, and they struck up a friendship, and then Erin wrote me an email about something this new friend shared with her and how it inspired her to deepen her business definition even further:
Erin Explains:
Mel and I have been keeping in touch off and on about our book coaching and writing progress, and she told me this really heart-wrenching story about how her confidence in her writing took a huge hit years ago because of some cruel, racist comments from a writing professor. Here is what Mel wrote:
`I’m not sure if I told you this story but years ago, I began a master’s degree in creative writing …The lecturer was a published author and each week she’d give us a prompt and critique what we’d produced the following week. She had always given me reasonable feedback during these critique sessions (it was a group of 9), but the first time I wrote a story centered around a black person, she ridiculed me. Told me how bad the story was, and how my character wasn’t believable and how my character wouldn’t have thought and said the things he did.
There was no constructive criticism. It was the first time I felt truly proud of a piece that I’d created, not because I thought it was brilliant, but because it was authentic. All of my previous stories had been based on colourless characters. The way she carried on shocked everyone in the room: everyone went silent. It was awkward. I was humiliated. It’s probably important to mention that she’s a white woman, and I’m black.
I dropped out of the masters shortly after because I felt so stupid in trying to write at all. Her reaction simply wasn’t proportionate to the situation. I guess I’d touched on a nerve, but her reaction stopped me from writing for nearly 15 years … My mental health has taken such a beating over the years with no creative outlet. I so desperately want to be a good writer, more than anything else, that not being able to write almost crippled me. … so I can say with honesty, writing about this might just save someone’s life.’
Erin Explains Her Response to Mel’s Story:
15 years!!!
The story made my blood boil. I wrote back a long email explaining how the professor violated her trust, and how no one deserves to be treated the way she was treated. Thinking about her experience made me reevaluate my website copy to reflect more of that particular aspect of what a book coach can do — help build a writer’s confidence if their trust has been violated by someone in a position of power.
I had a somewhat similar experience that I shared with Mel — In my early 30s I started a creative writing club and ended up being sexually harassed by one of the other founding members. His violation of what was supposed to be a safe space to share writing left me feeling so awful, I couldn’t even read fiction for over a year (which is completely out of character for me) and I didn’t do any writing at all for close to five years after.
It made me think a lot about how sacred the trust is between a writing teacher, mentor, or coach, and a writer — and how vulnerable a writer can be before they’ve learned how to take feedback and criticism, and who to trust (and who not to trust) with that work. Especially when you’re new to writing for an audience, trusting someone with your writing is like trusting them with your heart.
That Is A Stark Reminder of What I Mean By Damage
That is a stark reminder of what I mean by damage and it’s also perfect example of the way a writer can protect themselves: by finding the right person to trust with their work.
When seeking feedback on your work, know what you want and what you need — and I don’t just mean the transactional part of it. Perhaps you need a developmental editor or a copyeditor or a book coach. Don’t just look at what they do and what they charge and how long they take to get back to you or even what people say about their work. There are a thousand people who can do that kind of work and do it well. Definitely don’t look for the lowest price you can get. And don’t fall for bogus promises about outcome: there are no guarantees in publishing.
Look for the kind of person who can help you with the transformation you and your writing need. If you know you need help overcoming doubt, or raising your voice, or feeling confident in your ideas, or writing something that feels authentic, or finishing something that makes you proud, or focusing, or committing, or deciding to walk away from something that isn’t working, think about the kind of teacher, mentor, or coach who can give you that kind of help.
Look for the kind of person who will be honest with you about what is working and what is not, who will give evidence for it (not just opinion), and who knows the importance of compassion. You want someone tough on the work, but compassionate on the writer.
All of this should be crystal clear on the book coach or editor’s website. Here, for example, is Erin’s revised homepage copy, which her exchange with Mel helped her refine:
Welcome to erinwritesmagic.
I serve passionate writers from marginalized populations with complex, weird, otherworldly ideas who are having trouble getting the worlds they create to come alive on the page.
I am compelled to do this work because I believe that speculative fiction is often the most accurate vehicle to show deep personal truths, and because people with the most important stories to tell often have the hardest time being heard.
While I am not part of a marginalized class — I am a white, cis-gendered, straight woman — I have, at various time in my life, been a victim/survivor of abuse. I believe that systemic oppression of marginalized people is abuse on the grandest scale.
Writing and reading — both fiction and non-fiction — were my own first steps toward healing, and I believe that the more we give marginalized people a path to be seen and heard in publishing, the better we’ll be able to heal our world.
Have you gotten feedback on your writing that was unhelpful, demoralizing, made you feel unworthy as a writer, or even caused you to quit writing?
I can promise you that it wasn’t about you or your writing, it was the insecurity of the person giving you feedback. The job of a writing professor, teacher, or coach is to nurture the impulse to write, not destroy it.
If this has happened you, email me with the subject “free consult” for a free 30 minute zoom call. We’ll talk about how I can nurture your confidence and help you see where you really shine. I’ll give you specific, actionable steps so you know exactly what you need to focus on next.
If you are the kind of person and writer Erin describes here, you will know that she is 100% the right book coach for you.
You deserve to feel that kind of assuredness about the person giving you feedback. You deserve to feel nurtured and supported. That is the whole point. Getting good feedback is not about hearing what you want to hear — we all know that. Even Mel. (She wrote a note to Erin about how, when she tells the above story, people’s first reaction is to assume that she wasn’t prepared to hear a critique of her work; they want to blame her. She knows that it was not her.) Getting good feedback is about being seen and heard and supported and guided to do your best work.
Above All, Trust Your Instincts
If you are worried that someone (like a parent, sibling, or friend) has the potential to give damaging feedback, don’t give your work to them. Just don’t. Find someone else to read your work.
If you find yourself working with an editor or book coach who is giving feedback that doesn’t feel supportive, try to determine if you are feeling sad, discouraged, and down because the coach has pointed out weaknesses in the work and it is disheartening to hear. That kind of feeling is not fun, but it’s a normal part of the growth process as a writer; but feeling sad, discouraged, and down because the coach is attacking or harassing you as a person is a different story. If this is what you feel, try to have a conversation with the coach about it. Honest dialogue — not just about the work, but about the coaching relationship — is critical to doing good work.
What We Are Doing at Author Accelerator
One of the core skills we teach at Author Accelerator in our book coach training and certification program is showing compassion for the writer. In fact, lack of evidence of compassion is one of the most common reasons we don’t certify writers in their first attempt. We insist on seeing it — and when a book coach is focused on evaluating a writer’s work and determining how to help the writer bring their vision to life, it’s easy to forget to be caring and kind. It’s easy to focus on the fact that the writer needs your honesty about what is not working — the tough part of tough love — and forget the fact that they also need your compassion for how hard it is to create something from nothing and to share that creation with other humans — the love part.
This is why we train our coaches to always give evidence for their critiques; to be aware of their potential biases; and to speak openly and honestly about the collaboration between coach and writer as it unfolds. We take so seriously the sacred trust the writer is placing in us.
