THE DOCTOR IS IN

Dear Dr. Sue:

What do I do when friends ask me to read their manuscripts, and I hate what they've written? This has happened more than once.

R

Dear R,

Most published writers have to deal with this situation eventually. I wish there were a simple, universally applicable solution. So much depends, though, on the quality and closeness of the relationship, and on the personal and professional stakes for the writer in question.

For example, here is a discussion of possible approaches to a valued colleague whose substandard manuscript could be ruinous to his career. We have an obligation to save the people we care about, and those to whom we owe favors, from professional disaster or humiliation.

On the other end of the spectrum, it's often possible to fudge our response to more distant connections, especially if they have nothing to lose by showing their work. Your lawyer acquaintance's courtroom thriller isn't likely to derail her partner-track aspirations no matter how weak the plot or clichéd her observations. In these cases, I would suggest the vaguest possible response short of an outright lie. "I don't think I'm the best reader for this--I have trouble following legal logic, and I get queasy at descriptions of bloodshed" is usually preferable to "How can you bear to churn out such derivative drek?"  Recommending an alternative reader can be helpful as well, as long as the objective is to connect the writer with someone who enjoys the genre and would welcome the opportunity to be of use, not to pass the buck.

Between those two extremes, though, lies a great deal of gray area. What happens when a gifted, emotionally fragile friend asks your opinion of the novel she hopes will mark her comeback, and you find it flabby and trite? What if it's your father-in-law who has written the clichéd thriller?

Here are some general guidelines to help you calibrate your response to the needs of the writer and the demands of honesty and friendship:

• Remember that all literary opinions are subjective. You may hate what your friend has written, but other readers, editors, and critics could hail it as a masterpiece. It's helpful to emphasize this perspective when delivering a critique: "I don't understand why Hamlet didn't just skewer Claudius when he had the chance" is easier to hear than "The plot meanders all over Denmark before getting to the action."
• Business managers endorse the "hamburger method" of conveying criticism: sandwich the "meat" (your main objection to the work) between two supportive "buns." Even the most dreadful potboiler must have at least two praiseworthy aspects--it helps to identify and emphasize these to cushion the unappetizing gristle you are asking your friend to chew and digest.
• When possible, suggest a possible solution to each identified problem. "I couldn't buy Ophelia's last scene--her reaction seemed way out of proportion" goes down better when followed by, "What about sending her to rehab instead?" Even if your friend finds your suggestion ludicrous, you have made it clear that you consider the manuscript salvageable and worthy of further work (assuming that this is the case).
• Keep in mind that all writers identify with their work, most to a greater extent than they let on or even realize. "I want you to be brutally honest" is usually unrecognized code for "I'm in desperate need of reassurance." This isn't to say that you must compromise your integrity or artistic standards to cater to your friends' insecurities, only that a true friend will strive to communicate important truths in a way that allows the recipient to maintain dignity.

Finally, consider the honor that these requests represent. Try to cultivate gratitude for the accomplishments that have brought you to this place of authority, and for your friends' admiration and trust. If you respond from this place of appreciation and generosity, chances are you will find the words your friends need to hear.

Susan O'Doherty, Ph.D., is a clinical psychologist with a New York City-based practice. A fiction writer herself, she specializes in issues affecting writers and other creative artists. Her book,  Getting Unstuck Without Coming Unglued: A Woman's Guide to Unblocking Creativity, was published by Seal Press in June, 2007. Send your questions to her at Dr.Sue at mindspring dot com.

Comments

[Katharine Weber]

There is another option: one can reasonably decline to engage.

Our time is precious. There are only 24 hours in a day no matter who you are and no matter what your circumstances may be. It just might be (depending of course on your relationship to the writer whose manuscript is at hand) that declaring lack of available time to do the manuscript justice is the most diplomatic and expedient response if a preliminary read makes evident how problematic and demanding a thorough reading and critique could be.

[Richard]

I strongly agree with Katharine's eloquent response. I've been sending out stories and other writings for 33 years and I've never asked a friend to read a manuscript. So I don't feel bad about turning down people who want me to look at theirs.

When I wanted responses to my work, I went to graduate school. And as a teacher, I've constantly evaluated others' writing -- for money.

In my view, friends don't ask friends to read their works-in-progress.

[L.C. McCabe]

M.J.,

I thought you and your readers might be interested in reading blog entries by Anne Mini who deals with a related topic: who not to turn to for critique of your WIP.

Here are the links:

http://www.annemini.com/?p=734
http://www.annemini.com/?p=735

I thought this reply by Dr. Sue would be of interest to her readers, so I posted a link in the first blog post's comment trail.

Now, I'm reciprocating by putting a link to her blog on yours.

As Anne would say, "keep up the good work."

Linda

[dr.sue]

Linda, thanks so much for these links!

And thank you both, Kathariine and Richard, for your thought-provoking comments.

It makes perfect sense to decline to read a friend's manuscript, either because a "sneak peek" makes it clear that you'll dislike it or because there are too many demands on your time. And when you make a blanket policy, as Richard has, you minimize the chances of resentment or hurt feelings on your friends' part.

I've written previously about sending my first serious story to Michelle Herman, at that time an Internet friend, with fear and trepidation. Her helpful, serious critique transformed my own relationship to my writing, allowing me to see myself as a writer with potential and clearly outlining areas for further work and study. I hope I would have persevered if she'd brushed me off--but I'm not sure.

My husband had a poet friend who, when he was in college, sent his poems to W.H. Auden. Auden returned them, marked up, with a critical, but encouraging letter that he felt gave him the courage to go on writing, and inspired him to deal generously with less accomplished writers in turn.

Of course we can't exhaust ourselves reading everyone's manuscripts--and the generosity of these established writers was only helpful because they did see elements in our amateur work that was worth cultivating. I do try, though, to keep these examples in mind when I receive such requests. Of course, I'm not sufficiently successful to be inundated with them--another one of those problems we all wish we had!

[Katrina Stonoff]

When I started writing, I couldn't afford the time or money to attend grad school or hire a teacher. I would have been defeated at the start without wonderful friends who read my first manuscripts and made helpful suggestions.

So I pass along the favor sometimes. But *before* I read a manuscript, I always ask what kind of response the writer wants. Sometimes a writer needs only encouragement, not critique, and I think that's a legitimate request. So if that's the case, I tell them everything good I can say sincerely and just let the rest go. In my experience, there has always been something positive I could say honestly, even when I hated the work overall.

If they want more, I point out the worst three mistakes they've made again and again, carefully worded and sandwiched between positive comments and disclaimers, as Dr. Sue suggested.

If the manuscript clearly needs a lot more work than I can give it, I recommend they find a critique group.

Sure, it takes time, and I try to dodge it when I can (by suggesting they join a critique group instead, for instance). But when it's someone I care about or someone I know has done a lot of preliminary work on their own, I remember my own beginning-writer self and do the best I can.

I also have a group of writer friends in similar situations to mine (some are further along than I, some less so, but only incrementally). When we've done everything we can with our WIP, including running the full manuscript through our respective crit groups, we send it to each other. I love getting those. They are fun to read (though there's always something I think could use some work), and I enjoy getting the sneak preview. Plus, we've built strong and rewarding friendships as a result. I wouldn't have wanted to miss that.

[Auburn McCanta]

I'm a compulsive reader of Anne Mini, and found your site through hers.

Thank you for your good and constructive advice on how to deal with the requests of others, as well as, how to beg constructive criticism before sending a manuscript to a fussy agent or editor.

We who are hopefuls hang on every word of those who are in the know. Thank you for your help. I'm adding you to my regular list of reading.

[Auburn McCanta]

I'm a compulsive reader of Anne Mini, and found your site through hers.

Thank you for your good and constructive advice on how to deal with the requests of others, as well as, how to beg constructive criticism before sending a manuscript to a fussy agent or editor.

We who are hopefuls hang on every word of those who are in the know. Thank you for your help. I'm adding you to my regular list of reading.

[Katharine Weber]

I do believe that the right reader or readers can be immensely helpful at certain moments in the writing process, and I do think that it is reasonable to ask friends to read one's work, if there is clarity and transparency in the entire interaction. Who expects what, who needs what, what kind of reading is being requested, under what circumstances, and with what goals? Certain writer friends are incredibly valuable early readers for me. And I certainly do read, willingly, gladly, and without compensation, for certain people under certain circumstances. At times doing this work has the benefit for me of clarifying certain writing issues in my own work, too. But opting out is also a graceful and necessary choice quite often.

[Bella Stander]

I tell most people that, as a former book critic, I'm too mean, picky and brutal to read their work. However, if the writer is a professional who's used to being edited and REALLY wants feedback, rather than praise and encouragement, I will read.

Which means, apart from a writing workshop I took this fall, I've read maybe 5 unpublished works in the past 10 years, only one of them a book-length piece. Oh, and the workshop teacher told me I had to be more positive and supportive because my classmates were all newbies. And that was when I was trying to be nice.

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