I love giving feedback. I’m thrilled when a friend asks me to read their papers or help them with an assignment. I love reading others’ works and telling them what’s working and what isn’t. One of my favorite classes I’ve taken in my major is called Editing, and all we do is write short pieces, trade them with one another, and edit them. Sometimes I can get overeager and leave more feedback on a piece than may be necessary. I’m always worried about being perceived as cruel or critical, but I also want to give genuine advice. I always hope that others will give me good feedback, too.

Today I read “The Trouble with Amazing: Giving Praise That Matters” by Jennifer Gonzalez. I enjoyed this article. I always try to leave lots of positive comments on work that I read, and Gonzalez points out that that is a necessary part of good feedback. You have to let someone know what is good so they know to keep doing it or they can see where they have improved a previous mistake. Most of the article is focused on why general feedback is not helpful. Telling someone their work is “amazing” or “great” does not say anything specific about why it was great. It is very discouraging for me when I get work back that just says “Great job!” It makes me insecure. Is my professor just saying that because it was so bad that he doesn’t even think it’s worth correcting? Or what exactly was good? The characters, the story, the tone, the grammar? Gonzalez calls this “Paula Praise,” as in Paula Abdul from the old American Idol days. I thought this was funny because she’s right. We say we want “constructive criticism,” but I wonder if we also want “critical praise,” praise that specifically hones in on what is working and why it was exceptional.

The second article I read is “Be a Mirror: Give Readers Feedback that Fosters a Growth Mindset” by Gravity Goldberg. It is written from the point of view of a reading teacher, but I think the advice about feedback can apply to writing and any other work. Goldberg says that feedback should be specific, and it should reflect what is in front of us without any additional judgement. She suggests providing context for feedback, so instead of saying “This sentence was well-written,” say, “This sentence really helped me understand the emotions of the character at this moment.” I think this is great advice and will separate average feedback from really good feedback. It can be used in negative feedback, too. Instead of saying “This part of the story was rushed,” you can add context and saying “This part was rushed and created an emotional disconnect between the characters and the reader.”

I’m really excited to read more stories and give lots of useful feedback! I hope to avoid nonspecific feedback and give lots of praise that is critical as well as uplifting.

Featured Image: Feedback chalkboard. Source: Picpedia.org

Feedback is a constant sticking point for me, which sucks because ever since I’ve gotten to my major classes, it’s all I ever get. There’s a definite love/hate relationship. I love getting feedback because I want to know what people think of my work, but I hate getting feedback because I’m scared of negative feedback (even though none of my professors or readers are ever outright cruel!). Sometimes I can even get massive anxiety around feedback. It can be literally nauseating to open my feedback. (I have a 35,000 word document full of feedback comments from before Christmas that I STILL haven’t looked at because it’s so daunting.) I have a terrible habit of sending work for feedback, getting the feedback, and never touching the work again because I’m too embarrassed to look at the “imperfect” project. This is obviously problematic, and I want to stop doing it.

I’m excited to learn more about giving and receiving feedback this semester because I want to develop a healthy relationship with feedback. Though, I’ve heard from many successful writers that it never stops being scary to get edits in your inbox!

I’ve been dealing with a lot of self-doubt about my writing lately, so I read this article: Seven Ways to Crush Self-Doubt in Creative Work. It was really helpful and helped me put things in perspective! His first piece of advice is to avoid comparing your work to others. I fall into the trap of believing that I could never write something as good as So-and-So or that some person has already written the story I’m trying to tell. Spencer notes that this isn’t productive, and it’s not even true. He also points out that it leads to viewing other creators as competition, which is a toxic mindset that Writing Twitter discussed at length a few days ago.

My next favorite point from Spencer is his advice to treat your work like an experiment. I love this idea. I already have this mindset in regards to my fitness goals. I feel like if I view my workouts and eating patterns as a fluctuating, never-permanent experiment on my own body, I’m less likely to develop perfectionistic habits that could become obsessive or disordered. So why not apply that theory to my writing? If writing is an experiment, I’ll be much more likely to take risks, try new things, and I’ll be less defeated if things don’t work out. In an experiment, no data is useless or a waste of time. Even a 10,000-word trail following a plot bunny to a dead end can still be viewed as productive and a learning experience.

The next article I read, Silence the Critical Voices in Your Head, wasn’t quite what I thought it would be, but I really liked its message. I thought it would be more about the inner-critic or the self-editor that tries to eat away at our creative endeavors while we’re making them. Instead, this article focuses on ways to truly absorb the positive voices around us because they’re often there and we don’t hear them over the negative comments, many of which come from ourselves. I needed to hear this.

In one of my classes, I get weekly feedback from a professor on a chunk of my work, and every week, it takes me many deep breaths to steel myself to look through the comments. There are usually about ten comments. Seven of them will say “Good!” “Excellent point!” “I really like this!” and other positive feedback. Two of them will say “I think you forgot a comma here,” or “Misspelled word.” Just pointing out simple typos. Then one out of the ten comments will say something like, “I don’t understand this concept,” or “This dialogue seems out of character,” or “This doesn’t follow the logic of the story.” It’s these comments that I’m scared of. They’re never even rude, and they’re usually right and provide helpful suggestions. Yet it’s the 10% that keeps me up at night, and I never remember the 70% of positive comments.

Nawaz’s article is about learning how to use those positive comments to keep ourselves from freezing up in fear. I was especially struck by her advice to “Believe the positive and act as if it’s true.” I realized that sometimes I don’t believe positive comments are true. I don’t believe my critics are lying to me when they something is good, but I look at the good as if it’s a fluke, like it could never have come from me except by accident. I want to write like I know I’m good at what I do. How much better could I be if I believed that?

Featured Image: Feedback chalkboard. Source: Picpedia.org