Dime-Store Magic, by Kelley Armstrong.
Spectra, paperback
448 pages, dark urban fantasy/supernatural romance, welcome to the witching hour
Currently in print

( Welcome to the third book in Kelley Armstrong's Women of the Otherworld series, when we finally hook up with our second awesome narrator (in what will become a long string of awesome narrators) and get a look at more of the supernatural world. This is a decent starting point for the series, although I still recommend starting with book one. For details on the adventures of Paige Winterbourne, witch, click here.Collapse )

Hello, and welcome to number twelve in my ongoing series of essays on the art and craft of writing. There will eventually be fifty essays in this series, all of them based on my fifty thoughts on writing. I wrote all fifty of the initial thoughts in one hot, caffeine-fueled session. That may explain why the metaphors are occasionally so bizarre. (The English language as Frankenstein's monster was really just the beginning.) I'm averaging about one essay a week, of varying lengths, and will thus be able to avoid figuring out something else to do with myself for the better part of a year. That's awesome.

Here's our thought for the day:

Thoughts on Writing #12: Good Critique, Bad Critique.

Now, it was brought up in the discussion on one of the earlier essays that it read less like an essay about how to write, and more like an essay on how to be someone who writes. I think that's an important distinction. There will be several essays in this series that are less about how to do and more about how to be. In a weird way, it's like trying to explain Weight Watchers to people. I can tell you 'what you do is you eat this much food and drink this much water and you're fine,' but that doesn't tell you how to handle the various hurdles and complications that will arise if you want to actually succeed at doing the program. I also need to tell you how to be on some levels. This essay, like some of those before it and several of those after it, is more about being than doing. And here is what we're being about today:

Good critique targets the text, not the author. Good critique says 'this is sloppy and needs tightening,' or 'I don't think this word works here,' or 'I really don't understand the pacing in this scene.' Bad critique says 'wow, you really turned the suck knob to eleven on this one' or 'why don't you do something you're good at?'. Learn to tell the difference. Don't reject critique because it's harsh on the text; don't seek out critique that's going to make you lose the will to improve. It's a hard balance to strike. It can take a long time. It's absolutely worth it.

Please note that I can't really teach you how to give good critique, although I can give you some examples of things not to do because you'd hate it if people did them to you. What I can do is talk about the way to tell good critique from bad critique, determine your comfort zones, and respond to critique without placing value judgments on anything other than the text. Critique is vital. Learning to take it well is just as essential.

Good? Good. Let's go.

( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on good critique, bad critique, and the way to tell the difference.Collapse )