My cell phone rang yesterday at work and I dived for it, sure it was word on my latest query. Turned out to be my doctor’s office with a question.  Nuts!

I wanted to write a post about feedback.  A lot of people join writer’s groups in order to present material, discuss writing problems and get feedback from other writers, published or not.  I’ve not done this yet; there is one I’m interested in but it meets when I have another commitment.  It’s intimidating to put your work out there for public consumption, but even more so to ask for someone’s opinion.

With the popularity of shows such as American Idol, criticism and schadenfreude are big right now.  It’s fun to watch people fall flat on their faces, unless it’s you.  Anyone presenting work or performance in public is bound to have a few critics, but the harshness of unfettered vitriol can make some people quit.  From what I understand, many writers’ groups have rules about criticism; one I looked at recently and ultimately dismissed said it didn’t accept any criticism, only encouragement.  That’s another side to the coin.

Receiving no feedback won’t help you grow as an artist.  Neither will being unable to accept it.  On the very first audition show for American Idol, one of only two times I ever watched it, a young woman performed.  She had a pretty good voice, but as a trained singer myself, I could tell by her lack of breath control and phrasing mistakes she had had no formal study in voice. With training she had a real shot at making it, as the judges told her with great enthusiasm.

Was she excited to hear it?

No.  She thought her voice was perfect and needed no training or improvement of any kind.  I could see she had probably received empty praise and indulgence rather than genuine support and advice.  Her attitude condemned her to obscurity. The writer who can’t bear to change a word of his/her masterpiece because the first draft is perfect will quickly follow her.

There are some kinds of feedback it’s best to ignore.

• “Oh this is brilliant; you don’t need to do a thing to it!” Yes, you do.

• Remarks that stem from jealousy, competitiveness, or spite. You’ll know it when you hear it.  In between two projects, I was noodling around with something for fun and was told I should get over that and write something saleable. I knew at that moment I could never trust that person’s opinion again.

Same goes for reviews or comments. Don’t take these to heart. A good review or comment will give you honest observations that can improve your work.

• Feedback targeted at you personally, not your work. Agenda time, anyone?

• Feedback that is vague, or offers nothing beyond “I don’t like it.” That’s a personal opinion and should be respected. But unless concrete reasons are articulated, it is not useful to you.

What you want is constructive feedback. In my grad school education program, we learned how to give a criticism sandwich.  It’s just what the name implies. Put the suggestion between two positive statements. Start by finding something encouraging about the work, to put the person in a receptive frame of mind.  Then slip the suggestion in the middle, and end on a positive note to maintain that encouragement.

Example: “This is a great premise. Start with the action, not the exposition, and watch the head-hopping [shifts in point-of-view in the middle of a scene].  Good use of metaphor.”

Ideally, the person will listen to the suggestion and focus on improvement, not shortcomings. It works much better than “This blows” or “Go study POV, moron.” Seek out people you trust to look at your work.  My beta reader for the book is also one of my skating coaches. She herself writes, and she knows me and knows how to instruct me without tearing me down or giving me false praise. I believe her input made my book better.

If you’re submitting and your story is returned with specific critiques, pay attention to them. You want this kind of attention.  It shows that someone thinks you’re worth encouraging.

Don’t let feedback define you.  It’s just a tool you can use to make your writing better.

Even with a degree in English (which I always say makes me a professional bullshitter– ha!), I can’t paint myself as a grammar or punctuation expert, but people, please.  If you’re going to have a career as a writer or even just blog for fun, please, PLEASE take the time to learn the basic, fundamental rules of English.

I have read so many blog posts where it was obvious the writer didn’t take the time to proof his or her copy that it makes me want to scream.  Every single thing you put out there, an email or a blog post, a business card or a query letter, is a writing sample.  Everything.  Everyone will see your mistakes, and if they’re online, that’s a lot of eyes.

The immediacy of blogs makes it tempting to write a post directly into the page and then publish it.   I can understand typos; we all make them.  Hence the admonitions to read your manuscripts over and over, and print them out and look at them on the page, to give your eyes the chance to catch something you didn’t see on the computer screen.

Errors happen.  No one is perfect, and if you mess up, that’s an opportunity to learn something. I would not squeal if I made a mistake and someone pointed it out to me.  (In fact, if I do, please let me know.  If it’s a factual one, especially I want to know, so I can correct it. I don’t want to be the bearer of erroneous information.)

In certain venues, it’s easier not to properly punctuate and proof what you write; in my chat room, for example, the chat often moves faster than I can type, especially if I’ve been working particularly hard.  I often talk to my online buddies without capitalization and in abbreviations and shortened phrases.  My meaning comes across perfectly clear, because everyone else is doing the same.  And I’m sure you’re familiar with textspeak, even if you don’t like it and refuse to use it.  Personally, I’d rather just talk to someone than text him/her, since I’m on the phone already.

Anyone who reads blogs knows there are a ton of grammar Nazis out there making their little corrections in the comments.  To avoid them, write your blog entries in your word processor, so that you can check your spelling and edit a little. No one is too busy to properly present him/herself.

Here is a list of the most annoying things I see online.  Feel free to add your own pet peeves in the comments.

Loose for lose

Loose means something is coming apart, like your sentence.  Lose means to be unable to find something.

It’s vs. its 

It’s is a contraction, short for it is.

It’s not going to snow.

Its is possessive.

He picked up the dead frog by its leg.

The Comma Splice!

Here is what it looks like:

Tom went to the store, the family was out of bread and he wanted a frog sandwich.

NO NO NO NO. Use a semicolon or a period and make it two sentences.  It IS two sentences.

Their, there and they’re 

Their is possessive.

Mom took their coats to the hall closet.

There indicates placement.

Put the coats there next to the body in the closet.

And they’re is another contraction, for they are:

They’re not going to need their coats any more.

Affect vs. effect

Affect is a verb.  You can affect the TV by hitting it with a hammer.  Or, you can affect a British accent while you hit the TV, to make yourself seem like an expert.

Effect is a noun.  The hammer has an effect on the TV.  Your fake accent gives the effect that you are a phony, pretentious douchebag.

You’re and your

When you see an apostrophe, look very hard at what follows it.  “re” looks kind of like part of “are,” doesn’t it?

“You’re not going in there,” Bob said to Karen, right before the killer smashed his head in with an axe.

Your is possessive.

Your axe is over there, Charlie.

Too, two and to

Two is a number. Must I point this out?

Karen ran two blocks before she flagged down a police car.

Too and to could easily be messed up due to sloppy typing; that’s understandable, but if you take time to proof, chances are you’ll catch that one.

Too = means also, and an excess of something.

Sanjay had some chicken too.

The chicken was too spicy and now Sanjay has heartburn.

To = usually indicates going toward something, i.e. to the movies, to the second level.

And finally, the one that bugs me the most, the misplaced apostrophe!

The apostrophe stands in for omitted letters, as in a contraction.

“I’m [I am] not getting in your car,” Karen told the cop, seeing the zombie crouched in the back seat.

It also indicates possession, both for plural and singular nouns.

Singular:

“That zombie’s bite is deadly!” shouted the cop.

Plural – make the noun plural before you add the apostrophe.  If the plural noun ends in s, add the apostrophe after it.

Zombies’ hands are usually covered in rotting flesh and gore.

If the plural noun does not have an s at the end, don’t add one before the apostrophe.  Put it after.

She wiped the zombie children’s faces.

NOT

She wiped the zombie childrens’s faces.

For more help, see the following websites and books.  They helped me.  Now go, and sin no more, little bloggers.

Grammar Slammer – help with grammar and punctuation.

http://englishplus.com/grammar/

The OWL at Purdue – a great resource for all kinds of writing problems

http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/

Eats, Shoots and Leaves by Lynne Truss – an often hilarious approach to proper punctuation, complete with stickers one may use to correct improper signage!

http://www.amazon.com/Eats-Shoots-Leaves-Tolerance-Punctuation/dp/1592400876

The Chicago Manual of Style -University of Chicago Press Staff (Editor)

http://www.amazon.com/Chicago-Manual-Style-University-Press/dp/0226104036/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1261347799&sr=1-2

I want this one.  My little pocket guide is sadly outdated.  It’s online but requires a paid subscription.  Check your local library.  If you have a college near you, see if you can get a pass to use their library.  They may have it.  If you are an alumnus, you might even still have library privileges.

How does a novel, story or poem come out of someone’s head and make it to the paper or the computer screen?  How does an artist face a blank canvas each day and find the will and the vision to daub pigment on it until a masterpiece emerges?  How does the composer know which notes will become a symphony or simply noise?

It’s the universal problem that all writers face: what to do when the muse deserts you. How do you catch that fickle butterfly of creativity and harness its iridescent beauty into your work?

If you Google writer’s block, you’ll find a host of suggestions. Some of them, like “begin in the middle,” offer concrete solutions.  Simply skip that bugaboo opening scene and write another.  You can always go back, and the middle might be where you need to begin anyway.

Others are vague.  “Meditate,” or “Right a social wrong.” How does that help with writer’s block?  I think the intent is to clear your mind, or distract yourself.   But meditation takes practice, and writers with families and day jobs don’t always have time to play Batman or Mother Teresa.  It can be difficult to find time to write even when you’re on a roll, if your life is full.  Easier not to, especially if you’re stuck.

Ralph Keyes, in his excellent book The Courage to Write, makes a great case for writer’s block stemming from plain, ordinary fear.  Fear of offending someone, fear of failure (that’s a big one for a lot of people), even fear of success.  I must admit, I’m no stranger to shifting perceptions of my own efficacy.  Sometimes I feel brilliant; other times, completely mediocre and trite. When inadequacy squeezes the breath from me, I can’t seem to focus on anything other than how much I suck.

Writers who get a break can sometimes choke on their next project.  They second-guess themselves: What if it’s not as good? What if everyone hates it?  What if nobody buys it and my promising career goes down the crapper? Some writers are afraid that success will bring criticism; Mom and Uncle Bob may love their writing, but if other people don’t like it, does that mean they are bad?  Not necessarily.  It may only mean that Neighbor Jake or Online Critic Susy doesn’t care for allegorical stories about giant interstellar ants ravaging the world, or whatever the subject might be. To them I say, buck up, little camper.  Obviously, someone thought your work was good enough to publish, for money, contributors’ copies or both.

Any writing keeps the machine oiled.  Blog posts, homework, tweets, emails, everything counts.  If I can’t get to work (did you guess yet why I’m writing this particular post?), then I turn to a different project.  It’s a trick I learned in college.  Take a break from the subject or element that has bogged you down.  Do something else for a little while.  When you return to your assignment, you’ll be lubed up and ready to go.  That’s the idea, anyway.  Sometimes it works; sometimes it doesn’t.  You might have to stop and tackle it another day.  But that’s okay, as long as you recognize that it’s a problem with the work, and not with you.

I’m sure people in other media have the same issues.  Creativity can be fleeting for anyone attempting to spin something from the air.  When I asked a very talented artist friend of mine what she did when she got stuck, she said ” Sometimes I’ll get re-energized by looking at my old work, and find new energy to drag the [unfinished] things out and bring it to a good stopping point.” (While you’re here, check the Blogroll for Playing with Crayons and see her beautiful illustrations.)

I can get behind her concept.  An old story or essay might be good enough to remind me that I don’t really suck, or show me how far I’ve come if it’s not.   Something in it might spark a new idea.

What helps you break through that wall of despair and capture the butterfly?  Leave a comment and let us know.