The Careful Critique

Critiquing another writer's work is tricky. 

It's a fine balance of compliments and criticism. If you're really good at giving feedback, you offer gently worded suggestions.

I like to think I've gotten pretty good at giving honest, useful, suggestions that don't wound the recipient's soul.

  

A careless critique can damage a writer's self-confidence. 

A vicious one can inflict deeper injuries that may cause creative paralysis, preventing them from taking pen to paper for weeks, months, or possibly years.
 
The first reviews I received was from teachers in elementary school. A few months ago, I pulled out the 1st books I'd ever written - circa 1979.

Over three decades ago, I was an eager fifth grader and these first works were school projects. I vividly recall their creation and how at first I felt proud, followed by frustrated, and finally ashamed.

I eagerly wrote each story and submitted them for the teacher's review. She had me re-write them numerous times. Not for the content, but because my printing was nearly illegible.

I'd squish all my words together, making each sentence resemble one elongated word. Supercalifragilciousexpialidocious had nothing on 10 year old me.

Saying printing was a little difficult for me, is like saying a little chocolate is never enough. 

During the previous year, in fourth grade, Mrs. Burmeyer took me to task nearly every day for my poor penmanship.

She had a menacing German accent, kept her grey hair pulled into a severe bun, not one hair dared stray. Do I need to mention she wielded a wooden meter stick? Well, she did. With fury. In outrage she broke it over my best friend's desk. But that's another story.

If I close my eyes I can hear Mrs. Burmeyer yelling, "Spaces, Jodi. Spaces!"

One day, when I began to cry she chastised me for my tears. You see, when they dropped to my page they smudged my pencil marks, making my work even messier. For shame. Uh huh, that was sarcasm.

Needless to say, fourth grade was not my favorite. But back to these books and onto fifth grade. I painstakingly rewrote each book, writing in my absolute best longhand, and submitted them with fingers crossed.

When the teacher returned my masterpiece, The Ghost Host, I flipped to the last page, searching for her comments. My heart sunk.

Rather than focus on what I had done well, she drew special attention to my faults, underlining the word, "neater", as if somehow that would finally make me say, "Aha! Now I get it. My handwriting is sub par."

What her words did quite successfully was make me feel horrible about myself. I handed in my best work, but apparently my best was not good enough. My pride turned to shame. 

Thankfully between then and today, word processors were invented. Both my editor and I are grateful, as my printing and handwriting never improved much beyond my middle school abilities. And thankfully teaching has come a long way in thirty years.
 
When I give feedback, I bring my life experience with me and I leave my red pen at home. My goal is to uplift, support, encourage, direct, and inspire my fellow writers to create their best work.

Shame never enters the picture. Not does a measuring stick.

"I Love to Read" with Oakenwald Students!

Thank you Mr. Reimer's Grade 3/4 class!

Every time I do a school visit, I think, "Oh my gosh, it's even better than the last one!"

There is a definite pattern developing, and I love it.

Last Friday I had the pleasure of visiting Mr. Reimer's grade 3/4 class at Oakenwald School. They knew I was coming and had questions aplenty. This time, I was uber prepared. I even studied and knew that my book has 14 chapters, not 13 as I had previously believed.

Yup, that's the way I roll!

We delved into what inspiration means and where great writing ideas come from. We discussed the writing process and I showed them my current work in progress - all 32 chapters! (I told you I was better prepared!)

Just one or 652 edits to go!

Then we talked about how long it takes to get a book published and the importance of never giving up. It's just like learning to play the recorder - all wrong notes and squeaks at first, but with practice and determination, it turns into beautiful music. The same kind of effort is needed to make your written words leap off the page.

I was floored by the extent of knowledge those eight and nine year-old children already have. Kudos kids. Kudos teachers. Kudos parents.

And the absolute, positively best part? 
Mr. Reimer asked me to return to hold a writing workshop. 

Fueled by the student's enthusiasm and excitement, I nearly skipped out of his classroom at the end of the morning.

Can life truly get any better than this?

"I Love to Read" at École Crane

It all came full circle yesterday. I'm referring to my book reading at École Crane, not the fact that I began and ended the day with a bite (or six) of chocolate.

When I was a child, in the long ago days of yore, when there were no home computers and the world wide web would make one think of colossal spiders, I walked those halls myself. In the olden days though, it was simply Crane School, as French Immersion had yet to be invented.

I had the pleasure of being part of Crane's, "I Love to Read Month" and was asked to read from, Spaghetti is NOT a Finger Food, to all the third graders. Seeing my Sarah's beaming face smiling at me the entire morning, was one of my most favourite Mother Moments to date.

My earliest body of work.

I began by sharing the books I made when I was a 5th grade student at Crane. We then watched the book trailer and I read Lesson 5 - Lunch Time Can Be Tricky (spaghetti should never be eaten with your hands.)

Super cool and amazing book trailer.

When they asked me to read the next chapter, my heart soared. How could I say no?

So on we read - Lesson 6 - A Library Voice is Even Quieter Than an Inside Voice (the newest best book in the universe should never be on the top shelf.)

The kids asked awesome questions and we discussed Connor's Asperger's Syndrome. One little girl shared that her uncle has Asperger's and told us her understanding of what that meant. She was bang on.

I was able to stay with Sarah's class for a while longer, reading the first few chapters of Spaghetti and fielding more brilliant questions. Did I mention these kids were smart?

We finished off reading the "about the author" page from my grade 5 masterpiece, Sparky the Elf. The kids found it hilarious that 10 year old me was "great at climbing trees and talking and eating food." I am not exaggerating. I had skills.

Although I have given up climbing anything higher than a step stool, I am quite fond of talking (no kidding!) and eating all sorts of food. (especially chocolate)

"Sparky the Elf" Written and Illustrated by J.C. Griffiths. I was very accomplished in 1979.