Beta Readers, Edits, and Re-Writes—M.G.Sondraal
The act of writing is solitary, whether you write amid the chattering crowds in a coffee shop or alone in your favourite space at home. Regardless of what surrounds you, the written word is the product of your imagination and persistence. A first draft is written and followed by a structural edit and innumerable line edits. I’ve added an audio-edit step recently. For me, it catches repetitive words, and awkward dialogue better than reading the text alone. Finally, it’s in a readable form and ready to be shared…with someone.
Sharing your work is an act of courage. Writing exposes your vulnerabilities. The product is you, in some form, and asking for a critique is nerve-wracking. I cannot be dispassionate about my own work.
This is what I do to get that essential feedback and protect myself simultaneously.
Understand, it isn’t helpful to hear only positive comments because folk are worried that I’ll spiral into despair and eat ice cream directly from the container. Being too complimentary is not constructive. Naturally, after all my effort, I don’t want to hear it’s flawed, boring, incoherent, confusing, or any other dreadful descriptors either.
Of course, I need to hear that, hopefully in terms that are less inflammatory and gently said. I understand what the criticism means.
· “I think the pacing is off here. It drags a bit in the middle.” Boring. Cut stuff out or spice things up.
· “I was unclear about this section.” Confusing. Something in my brain didn’t translate to the page.
· “This sentence was awkward.” Incoherent. Please clarify.
· “I don’t think you need to explain that again. We already know.” Repetitive and Boring
These are neutral comments that inform me of challenges and don’t imply that reading the book was an utter waste of time. I can take this criticism without curling into a fetal position questioning my very existence. Also, problems are identified without solutions offered, something I prefer to everyone piling on suggestions.
Who are your beta readers?
Choose wisely. I don’t find a generic reader group for all is useful. Crime fiction is very different from fantasy which is different from literary. Each genre needs a different set of nuanced readers familiar with what is expected.
My writing group could be my beta readers though I rarely inflict my work in its entirety upon them. They help me troubleshoot specific issues with my WIP as I share sections or simply discuss where I’m stuck, and they encourage me always. I get thoughtful advice from each of them, but they are toiling on their own writing projects, caring for families, working at their day jobs, and reading authors they enjoy. Asking them to read my draft, be it fourth or fourteenth, is a lot to demand of them, so I mostly don’t.
I’ve asked friends and acquaintances who read prolifically in the genre to read my work and tell me what works and what doesn’t for them as readers. They may not know what the novel needs to improve, but they know what they like. Because I’ve known each a long time, they are generally kind with helpful insights to direct my edits.
I collect the sometimes-disparate opinions, ruminate on them, and decide what I choose to change, what stays with better clarity, and what I’ll respectfully ignore. I don’t write by committee. My voice is my own, and the story is mine to tell as is the next edit mine to do as I refine and improve the piece. Once done, I’ll set it aside for a time and re-read it myself. When more time has elapsed and more objectivity is possible, I, as the alpha reader, can determine how successful those changes were. Maybe that’s enough and I’ll consider it a “final” draft. If it was a substantial re-write, I may send it out again in whole or in part to determine if the fixes work for more than just me.
I’m very cognizant of the debt I owe my beta readers and try to use them wisely and sparingly. Like my writing group, they have improved my work immeasurably and at cost to their precious leisure time. They have my gratitude forever and maybe someday they’ll get an acknowledgement in a published novel.