I started my career as a journalist when I was 20 years old, working as a reporter for the social magazine Sierra Madre in Periódico El Norte, the biggest newspaper in my hometown of Monterrey, Mexico. I was finishing my major in Spanish Literature, and journalism was the closest I could find to a writing job. For many years, I conducted interviews and wrote short articles, longer pieces, and Op-Eds, all targeted at a young adult (15 to 25 years old) audience.
As is custom to Grupo Reforma, each section of the newspaper has its own Consejo Editorial, a focus group of readers that gather once a week to provide feedback on last week’s publication and ideas for future ones. The first time one of my pieces was discussed, my heart wouldn’t stop pounding. Not only did the group analyze and review my work, I had to be present to hear what they had to say. You’d think it’d get easier. It never did. For more than a decade, I had to sit and smile while people dissected my words. You couldn’t defend yourself, and when I became editor, I had to take responsibility for mistakes that weren’t even mine (but I had overlooked).
I did learn one thing that now helps me navigate the world of feedback (giving and receiving) and it’s this: most people don’t point out things they like but rather those that can be improved. In thirteen years of working in the newspaper, I don’t remember receiving a single email congratulating me for my work, and yet my inbox filled up with complaints about everything we’d done wrong. I came to understand that it’s like complimenting attractive people; you assume they’re already aware of their beauty. And yet, if you see someone with spinach in their teeth, you let them know (or at least feel inclined to).
Feedback is a necessary evil for writers. You need to be open, listen, and make sense of other’s opinions. It’s not for the faint of heart. The only thing you wish to hear is: “This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever read.” But then you get fifty pages of notes.
I’ve been working on a novel for a while, and it’s been dissected many times. Throughout this process, I’ve taken what serves my vision and disregarded the rest. Sometimes, it’s been amazing listening to an idea that enriches the story or the mention of a mistake I’d overlooked. Other times, the comments have been disheartening and mean. Not giving up on this manuscript is the definition of grit, endurance, and maybe delusion. Only time will tell which.
Our writing group discussed the topic of feedback on several occasions.
Here are some of the takeaways and advice we’ve given each other:
– Tackle new ideas and suggestions to your work as you would a class assignment and see how that plays out. Then you decide if you like them or not.
– Make notes of the comments that resonate with you and disregard those that don’t.
– Never lose your essence to what other people think your story should be. It’s your story, not theirs.
– Don’t make changes you cannot justify afterward; stand behind every decision.
– Find people you connect with to give you feedback. As with life partners, not everyone is a fit, attractive as they may be.
– Never lose original drafts.
– People may confuse looking smart with being mean. Don’t be mean. You can say the exact same things in a nice, constructive way. Destroying someone’s belief in themselves for the sake of sounding eloquent is just wrong.
– And most important of all, trust yourself, your vision, and your talent.
I’ve wondered many times what a beta reader would’ve thought of William Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying. Who’s pregnant? Who’s talking? What is happeninnnngggg?
I can imagine people suggesting García Márquez not use the same name over and over in One Hundred Years of Solitude because it’s confusing. Could he not think of other options that weren’t José Arcadio and Aureliano?
In the words of Rick Rubin, in his book The Creative Act: “As you collect feedback, the solutions offered may not always seem helpful… If you truly created an innovative work, it’s likely to alienate as many people as it attracts. The best art divides the audience. If everyone likes it, you probably haven’t gone far enough. In the end, you are the only one who has to love it.”
Yes, we need to run our work through others, but we must never lose ourselves in what others think is best. Stand true, don’t lose faith, and move on. There’s always the prospect of future reviews, many of which will not be kind. And you will survive that, too.
She worked as a journalist for Grupo Reforma in her hometown of Monterrey, Mexico and taught high school Spanish and Journalism.
Empowering a new generation of writers is her life purpose, as well as publishing her YA novel Synchronicity, which she originally wrote as a play when she was 17. She is also working in a two-POV, two-author dystopian MG and other projects.
- Surviving Feedback - July 11, 2024
- It’s not a mishap, it’s a story - June 14, 2024
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