writing

Criticism 101

Previously titled: Criticism 101 Or That Time I Used A Strange Baby Metaphor. Read on to figure that one out.

Let’s start with a little story: I was in college when I started receiving Criticism.

That’s inaccurate, I have been receiving some form of criticism my entire life. What I mean is that I began receiving criticism on a level I never had before, and in a form I wasn’t really used to. Typically, it would be in the form of someone putting me down by pointing out something about me, usually a flaw. In college, it was mostly focused on the pieces I wrote and helping me to better my writing. Most of it came during workshops in writing courses.

There are two types of criticism that you should be aware of, if you aren’t already: Constructive and (Critical or De-constructive) Criticism.

It’s always baffled me how criticism, on its own, has such a negative connotation, but that’s because, without purpose to help, it is a tool that can only serve to destroy or deconstruct someone or thing.

Constructive Criticism is fairly easy to differentiate from regular Criticism, and not just that it tends not to make you feel like shit. The first thing that good constructive criticism does is similar to criticism, it points out the issue. That is, it makes the person aware that there’s an issue. What sets it apart is that, after the issue is identified, it is then used to tell you how to resolve it. In the end, this should serve as a mutually beneficial exchange, you get to improve at whatever you’re doing and the person helping you gets an improved thing. It can also strengthen relationships.

The worst types of criticism can come in the form of bullying. Whereas constructive criticism should come from a place that is not only trying to help someone else but to better that person or thing that they are doing.

To break regular criticism down, it starts the same as its constructive counterpart in that it begins by pointing out the problem or issue. Then, it just makes things worse. While this is happening, it also makes you feel bad about whatever the problem is by bringing you down and only identifying the problem as a negative. By belittling you, criticism empowers the person antagonizing. So, basically, regular criticism often serves to make you feel like shit, while the other person feels better about themselves, and you shouldn’t ever accept it.

Yet how you should take it will always be the question.

Since it serves as a tool to assist you, make you better, Constructive Criticism should be taken with the understanding that it’s not meant to harm. Now, it doesn’t mean it’s without difficulty. If someone tells you that what you’ve been working on for some time needs to be changed, even if they cite valid reasons, it will still hurt. It’s ok to feel that way. After all, what you create can be like your child.

On that note, let’s talk babies.

It would be like if I had a baby and someone told me it would look better with dark hair than with light colored hair, and I dyed its hair a dark brown and thought to myself, “Oh, you know what? Dark colored hair really does compliment my baby’s cheek structure.” It’s like I know my baby is perfect just the way it is, but this criticism improved on what was already there. That person was helpful with the strange baby tip, although I might want to question why I associate with someone fixated on baby bone structures and hair colors… I’m sorry, I don’t know why I started this convoluted metaphor. Mom, Dad, if you’re reading this, I don’t have a baby. I digress.

Criticism, though, is someone telling you that your baby is shit and you should feel bad for having a shit baby. This is not ok. First, I would suggest explaining to them that this hurts you and suggest different ways they can change their behavior, like telling you why they don’t like the baby and what you might be able to do to change the baby. If you can’t get them to do that, I would suggest getting that person out of your life for both you and your baby’s best interests…

That got weird, right?

The reality is, this becomes more and more obvious the more you put yourself in situations where you will be receiving criticism. For writers, that means workshops or passing your pieces on to friends or anyone, really, for critiquing improvements. And the best way to get over it that I can tell you is that the more you do it, the less painful it becomes. I won’t say it ever stops feeling not-so-good completely, but, like most things, it does get easier. It’s good to be able to differentiate. It’s good to know what’s bad. It’s also good to know that feeling poorly, about either one, is totally fine. Oh, and abnormal metaphors should maybe be kept to a minimum. That’s why I only technically used one here.

Haha I’m awful. No, really. I am truly awful. And that’s self-deprecation, another form of criticism that I’ll talk about on a future day. Wink wink.

 

If you have questions, if you’re confused, or maybe if you think there’s something I should do differently here, let me know. But be gentle.

I hope you all have a wonderful month!

 

Regards,

Nathan

Crossing Genres

Crossing Genres

 

This starts out with writing as the primary focus, but I’ll bring it around to more of a general understanding.

 

If you go to an event, a conference, an MFA program, as a writer, you’ll usually get the same question, “What do you write?” What they mean by that is, “What genre do you write?”

In truth, I write Nonfiction and have been attempting Poetry, a lot. Occasionally, I’ll write Fiction. You’re usually expected to choose only one because that’s what most people do, they choose one and stick to it, they specialize. This helps you in your craft, to focus on being the best at one thing. It also allows you time management. That is, it takes a lot of work to write, let alone write in different ways, and this is most effective. The same can be said for most arts and creative endeavors.

When I was introduced to the concept of Creative Nonfiction, I was also introduced to the concept of using tools from poetry and fiction in writing true stories. That’s why I became adamant on mastering the other genres, or, really, having their basics under my belt.  Using lyrical diction or crafting scenes that flow naturally with dialogue and whatnot, and aren’t just recounting events and facts, are important skills to have. So, when I get asked which genre I stick to, I almost feel insulted. Although, it is still a fair question, it’s necessary for me to have a little of each, even hybridization and experimental forms.

I understand the mindset. Specialization leads to a mastery of craft and form that you can’t get otherwise. But even some of the best painters tried their hands at various styles before settling on their preferred one, and, even then, not all of them stuck to what they became famous for. Still, there is the idea that each genre also has the inclusion of subgenres. Creative Nonfiction has the subgenres of Memoir, Autobiography and Biography, Lyrical Essay, and Immersion writing, to name a few. If you would like to learn more, I recommend Sue William Silverman’s, The Meandering River: An Overview of the Subgenres of Nonfiction. And Fiction has even more.

Typically, even when people will say that they focus on one genre, they probably also mean, even more so, that they focus on a subgenre and rarely have anything to do with the others, let alone another genre altogether. The reality of writing is that it’s difficult to be very good at one style without focusing on it exclusively, but, at the same time, it’s good to have the tools of the others at your disposal. For instance, the lyrical essay demands that you have a background or, at the very least, some experience with poetry or poetic writing. What’s interesting about the lyrical essay is that it can also be interpreted as a prose poem, meaning that it is a genre bending style in and of itself.

If you’re wondering how this might be applicable to outside the arts, there are probably a few ways I could put it. One way that comes to mind is to compare it to a liberal arts degree and a more specialized degree or study. Not to offend anyone. I do want to point out that sticking to one thing is fine and often preferable as it helps you to know more about one subject and be better at it.

Back in 2011, I went to China for a three-week study abroad course with my undergrad, Hiram College. It was a wonderful experience, and we were there during a time of unprecedented exponential economic growth. While we were there, we were introduced to a person who, I believe, was an economist or in that field. He explained to us something that we all found truly odd, China had no concept of liberal degrees. They didn’t even have them.

You see, in that culture, you decided on a profession, went to school for it, graduated, and then got a job in that field for the rest of your life, a concept lost to us Americans. The problem was that the rapid expansion of China’s economy as well as the progression of technology would make some of the people’s jobs either obsolete in a few years after receiving their degree and entering the workforce or make it so that their knowledge on the job was no longer valid/up to date. When this happens, they have nothing to fall back onto. The benefit of a liberal arts degree is the roundedness of it. Yes, there’s no specialization and you tend to have a smaller income, but you have the flexibility in an ever-changing market to do something else, have a focus somewhere else. That’s sort of how I see genre or style crossing in writing and the arts. Well, sometimes. It’s not a perfect analogy. Nobody is perfect though. You know what I mean?

I’m mixed on this, as I hope you can tell. I both want you to cross over to other genres, but, at the same time, I’m telling you that you don’t have to. A singular focus is a good thing to have, especially in the arts. A dabbling in everything is great too. I feel someone will read this with the argument that I’m just talking about a dabbling for mastering a singular style or genre, and that’s somewhat true. I’m not a professional poet. I don’t professionally write novels or short stories. I wouldn’t profess to saying I’ve mastered these things, let alone Creative Nonfiction, for that matter. I am saying that you should try them out, again. Master them to the best of your ability, and if you find you don’t want to stick to them, then go back to whichever genre you prefer. But keep what you learn from the other, it will strengthen whatever you do.

 

All the Best,

Nathan

 

End

Cue Music

Roll Credits

 

 

 

 

 

Music Ends

Credits End

 

 

 

 

 

*Peeks around corner wearing a red and white, striped bathrobe*

*Approaches from back of hallway*

You’re still here?

It’s over.

Go home.

*Retreats to back of hallway*

*Waves hand dismissively*

Go.

*Exits Scene*

Black Screen.

 

The People You Know

Chicago, 2012, AWP Conference

 

I entered a cavernous room with white, ornate walls. A hundred people sat in petite, metal, folding chairs with even more crammed against the sides. I stood in the back, not sure of who was talking. I had never heard of any of them. I knew they each wrote some form of nonfiction though. I knew what they were discussing. I knew it was important to me.

They were talking about writing about the people you know.

It’s a complicated and often sore subject in art, not just writing. It’s a matter of ethics, personal preference, relationships, and creating. There are a few viewpoints on this matter. Ultimately, what you choose is completely up to you. Here, in my own words, are what they covered at this conference:

 

  1. It Doesn’t Matter.

This will always be a favorite of mine. I won’t do it, but a favorite nonetheless.

It’s the shamelessness of it that gets me, I think. I can just imagine someone tossing back their hair, wind blowing through it, a smile brushed across their face, and a whole bunch of upset people crying or not talking to them. Anyone and everyone is fair game when it comes to your work. This is not for everyone, not for the faint of heart or those with weak constitutions.

The real thing here is, who cares? Because the truth is the truth and it will get out eventually. I think it’s commendable to be able to create without allowing others to limit you and also potentially be able to smooth over any bumps that may occur in your relationships. Again, I couldn’t do this, but kudos.

 

  1. As Long As They Know

There’s a theory that as long as the people in your life know that they could be the subject of your work, it’s ok to use them. It’s more of an implied warning, but I recommend being straightforward if you want to go for an approach. Let them know by telling them. Some people wait for permission after they know, but in this instance it’s just the idea of knowing that gets you off the hook, supposedly. If they choose to stay in your life, then it’s pretty much their fault.

 

  1. As Long As They Consent

It’s a personal thing, writing about people. This concept revolves around asking permission. If it’s a no, you can’t do anything. If it’s a yes, you’re allowed to either assume this is a go ahead for all future works or just this specific one. I would go with the former, but cautiousness sides with the latter.

 

  1. As Long As They Agree

This is common practice, actually. The idea is that you check what you’ve made with the person in question. If they agree with the story you’ve told or the image you’ve constructed, then you’ve been green lit. If not, then you’ve run into a problem, and you can either scrap the whole thing or get it to agree with them. I, personally, am against this one as a memoirist. Memory is a subjective thing. One person’s experience is not ubiquitous; it doesn’t carry over to the other people involved, not exactly. Again, up to you.

 

  1. As Long As It’s Accurate

This is similar to number 4. Again, you can ask their permission here, but it’s not necessary. I prescribe to this one, for some reason. In this instance, you check for factual accuracy, lining up your recollection with theirs and getting historical information down as well. But you shouldn’t change your story because it doesn’t match up with someone else’s in this case. What you’re aiming for here is greater accuracy. Don’t completely change your memory because someone doesn’t agree with you.

Still, you don’t want errors in your writing. At least, having dates and basic circumstances down as close to what they really are/were is important to me, and should be important to you too. If you do this, then you’re good to go.

 

  1. As Long As They’re Dead

I think this one is self explanatory. Not applicable to people you don’t know.

 

I listened to these people for over an hour, my legs beginning to lose feeling. Their voices rose, echoing. No one could agree. Some of them worried about other people, and others didn’t. Alienation will always be a possibility. In fact, it’s a right of passage. Everyone who writes or uses the people they know in their work will have to come face to face with this, sometimes more literally than others. It’s important to know how you’re going to handle this, but even more so to not let it hinder what you’re doing.

 

 

Don’t stop. Won’t stop. #sorrynotsorry.

 

Nathan