Last week I proposed to review some excerpts using the Tiger Mother philosophy. As I approached each work below, I told myself to trust that each writer was strong and capable of being of the best writer in the world. I left the names of the writers out, but they can feel free to reveal themselves in the comments if they like. My comments are in blood red.
At the bottom, I'm also offering up an "anonymous" piece of writing for each of you to critique Tiger Mother style.
What do you think? Is this kind of critique helpful or only hurtful? If you do offer up your own critique, how does it feel to be a Tiger Mother?
Excerpt A
Except for a few scrubby bushes, the summit of the hill was bald.
“This is the spot,” Bel said. He flexed his gloved hands against the bitter cold What does this mean? The action of flexing his hand against the cold is unclear to me. and sniffed. The other two hats dipped forward in agreement and they readied their shovels.
The shovels were stubby wicked things, with shafts carved from lightning-struck trees and kissed by witches to keep the wrong sort of ghosts from clinging while they did their peculiar work. The blades had been banged out from junk air-plane propellers, which was a good thing in this case, as the they typo could tell the ground under their boots was no spongy garden loam, yielding to any old turf-mover I really don't know what "they" refers to. I thought it was the shovels because they were magical, but the shovels aren't wearing boots. No, this was dense soil, chocked with rocks and frozen stiff.
Overall, the clarity of this section was a problem for me. I think you should pay more attention to each word you put on the page, rather than just the ideas they represent. I usually don't mind hyphens and hyphenated words, but here I feel like they result from being too rushed in the writing and not thinking about the vocabulary.
Excerpt B
That’s as far as I got though, because that sneaky Mrs. Snyder came up behind me. “Melanie Foss, I do not believe that we live in Kentucky. This tone of this feels a bit derivative to me, even given the fact that Mrs. Snyder specifically relies on cliche. I believe your assignment is to research the State of New Hampshire. So kindly, get to the task at hand.” That’s the way Mrs. Snyder spoke. All clichés and such. She was always saying, “Put your nose to the grindstone” and “Give it your best shot.” If you listen to Miss Russell, clichés are phrases that are used so often they become ordinary. I guess being ordinary didn’t matter much to Mrs. Snyder.
Later on that week though, I went back to the library during free period and took my sweet time Does this cliche mean that the character also doesn't care about being ordinary? Is she unconsciously revealing her own flaw? looking at Tarrant County on the map. When I was little, eight maybe, I used to drive Mama crazy another cliche to point to the fact that being ordinary doesn't matter to the narrator? asking her questions about the beauty pageant. Mama and I are a team of two. She’s only been saying that for about a million years. But even if we are, it seems to me that the team had to get started somewhere. I don't understand this sentence. If they are a team of two, then does the team start when the narrator is born or before that? What exactly is the thing that had to get started somewhere? I mean, I know she grew up in Kentucky. The thing is, other than telling me about the Honeydew Festival, she never talks about it.
This is an interesting excerpt for me, and it has its strengths. But I think you need to accentuate the important details and not waste the reader's time on the less important ones. Paying attention to every single sentence is also important.
Excerpt C
She sure doesn’t look the way she did last summer, when everyone was at the water hole and all she did was sit there with her knees to her chest. Yeah, I used to tease her, but everyone did. She made it so easy, being that odd sort of quiet. Always to herself at the edge of the group, or her face in a book or drawing something. Though the idea of an insecure character is captured here, I don't see enough originality in the details. The description seems to be based on the same descriptions used by too many other writers. I didn’t mean to make her cry, with that bucket of frogs and I sure didn’t think it would take a whole ‘nother year before she’d even talk to me again. Again, this reaction by the character lacks originality. What makes this specific and unique compared to other stories about similar relationships? The punctuation feels sloppy to me as well.
When Mickey Pritchard called her the boobless wonder, I should have punched his lights out. Does this cliche really fit the character's voice? Do people still say "punched his lights out?" in a serious way? And I should have whispered her the right answer when Miss Whimbley called on her in front of everyone in math. Maybe I should’ve left a note with the valentine candy I put in her desk, or signed the picture I drew of her, with her pretty, long hair—the one she folded and stuck in her book. I'm still looking for more originality. Even if a situation isn't so unique, I think specificity can really make a passage stand out. If there were more specifics here, it wouldn't seem to much like other works I've encountered.
I think she smiled at me during lunch, probably no comma here today, even though she wouldn’t show me what she was reading when I asked. Maybe if I happen to be hanging around the old hickory tree she always walks past on her way home, she won’t mind if I ride my bike beside her…
“Boy! Stop day dreaming, and get out and open the gate.”
This writing is too safe here. The situation is a lot like other stories I've read, so I need more from it, otherwise I feel like it's redundant. Dare to take a risk! Why is this story special? Why are the people special?
--------------------------------
ROAR!
There you have it, my critique of a few words from some writers who were kind enough to offer up their work. Now, feel free to give me your own Tiger Mother review on the passage below. It's an excerpt taken from the middle of a short story.
Excerpt D
At night, Nam cried to herself. She had no doubt that the visa would be approved. Families transformed so easily these days, and nothing was ever permanent anymore. Her sister had moved to America. Nam had come to live on this farm. Now their mother would spend the last years of her life in a new world, one far different from what she was accustomed to, her natural place.
Okay, I'll go ahead and claim Daydreams.
ReplyDeleteMy reaction? Having read your critique, I have to say, it didn't sting as much as I anticipated--perhaps because I trust you, Domey. And perhaps because I am so aware of my own weaknesses and assume everyone else can already see them.
What stood out to me, and made me grin, was your assessment that my work is "too safe" and 'lacking originality'. There is actually comfort in knowing that someone concurs with what I already know about my own work, and that I can apply the principles for improvement across the board. My safety issues go well with Lit Lab's recent post on bravery in writing.
Thank you so much for the feedback, Domey! I think it took a bit of courage on your part to offer these rigourous critiques!
What a great experiment. I'm happy to be a part of it :)
I love this idea of a Tiger Mother critique. I would not dare do it to the last piece of fiction as I saw nothing wrong with it, other than the names. Too many to keep up with. But that is my own opinion.
ReplyDeleteYour critique sounds like my Mom's editing and the critiques I used to get back from my first writing prof in college.
ReplyDeleteA kick in the gut sometimes, but not really mean. And my writing would be 15% of what it is now without either of them.
I'll take a look at the challenge piece later and see if I can give a whirl at roaring myself.
jbchicoine, first off, I thank you for trusting me. I also thank you for offering up your work for this experiment. Nevets' post on bravery was a good one, and I do hope you pursue it. If you figure out how to be braver, let me know!
ReplyDeleteAnne, I was surprised by how many people wanted this type of critique over something that was nicer. Thanks for speaking up about the last piece too.
Nevets, I'm glad you see this as constructive. Your mom sounds really really cool. ;P
Hahaa! Nicely done, good sir! Way to let the tiger out. No punches pulled.
ReplyDeleteOddly, this gives me more insight into the workings of your mind, Dorney, than a whole raft of LitLab posts. Seeing how you deconstruct prose tells me more about how you think than you just telling me how you think, if you catch my meaning.
And tiger-age on the excerpt? Word. I'm on it.
The rainy season announced its arrival with a thunder storm. Tuk and Raymond looked up ["looked up" bores me. Pedestrian.] at the sky with worried faces [Dude, just go for the adverb. It's two syllables shorter, and reads faster and less awkwardly]. They were planning to return to the states and would come back to Tayang once Kimchaa's visa was approved. [How does this relate to the thunderstorm?] Kimchaa herself began making a list of things she wanted to take with her, scribbling items [you don't need "items" here] clumsily on the back of an envelope with her arthritic hands. The items were silly things that Nam was sure she [who's "she?" Nam? Kimchaa?] would be able to [I'd compress "would be able to" to "could"] find in America: soap, tissues, a bottle of drinking water—but the family decided that this was a good distraction for the old woman.
At night, Nam cried to herself. She had no doubt that the visa would be approved. Families transformed so easily these days, and nothing was ever permanent anymore ["these days" and "anymore" feel redundant together]. Her sister had moved to America. Nam [is she referring to herself in the third person here? I thought we were already in Nam's head.] had come to live on this farm. Now their mother would spend the last years of her life in a new world, one far different from what she was accustomed to, her natural place [this last clause feels imprecise. .
I'm not sure why Tuk and Raymond were looking at the sky at the beginning. Perhaps in context it would make sense, but in the isolated excerpt, I fail to see how their actions and the rain impact Nam and Kimchaa.
*rowr*
Simon, thanks a lot for playing! How did it feel? For me, reviewing the pieces as I did was both liberating and frightening at the same time. I worry about possibly making a writer freeze up. I really appreciate you taking the time to critique this. It's harder as a comment too, I'm sure.
ReplyDeleteAnd, that's a really interesting point about you seeing more about me in these critiques than in my posts. It makes sense.
My problem with Excerpt D is that it feels like setting, like backstory, like throat-clearing. It's a bunch of images and names all sliding past, and there isn't a unified action carrying the reader through this intro. Unless that's the style of the whole piece (which could be cool, allowing the reader to assemble things slowly and in layers) I think it would be better to present something more focused, like a scene. I might start with At night, Nam cried to herself. (though why "to herself?" why not "alone in her room" or "quietly, trying not to wake the others" or something?)
ReplyDeleteOkay, the only reason I’m going to attempt a critique (my first) is because this is a teaching blog/post. If a critique can possibly be wrong, then leave it to me! lol
ReplyDeleteI read where beginning with the weather is wrong. I think it’s a stupid rule – I like the weather. For me, it sets the mood. I believe thunderstorm is one word though. The rainy season has no bearing on the rest of the excerpt. (realizing that it’s probably out of context)
I had to read it twice before I realized Kimchaa was Nam, maybe that could be cleared up. Also, I get the feeling that the person that provided the excerpt intentionally jumbled the sentences in the second paragraph.
I would like to read more (and critique less.)
I would like to add that Domey's 'Tiger Mama' critique's are outstanding.
Really great critiques, Domey. Honestly, I think this is just how critiques should go, in general. Otherwise they're not much use.
ReplyDeleteI say 'in general'. The specifics of a relationship or a particular writer might entail different guidelines.
Now, if I were to nit-pick some of your critique etiquette, I think you could deliver the same exact content without the potential abrasiveness by prefixing some of your strongest opinions with "I think" or "In my view."
For example, instead of saying "This is boring" you might say, "I was bored here," which restricts the truth of your comment to your own experience, instead of making it universal--which is actually teh case, anyway. Also, it defuses any potential argument with the person you're reviewing. They can't argue with you about whether or not *you* were bored, but they can have an argument with you about whether or not it's an intrinsically boring piece of ... work.
This probably applies more for critiques with strangers and newbies, but I thought it was worth mentioning. Experienced writers and/or trusted friends automatically short-cut this, I think.
In the end, I don't think you should hold back from saying anything--it's just how.
Randoms side note: As a control, someone should have submitted a chunk from some published and well-regarded work. :)(Not that it wouldn't also potentially have room to improve, but it might be interesting).
Thanks for the work you put into this!
The rainy season announced (do seasons make announcement?) its arrival with a thunder(-))storm. (Not very memorable since the rainy season and thunderstorms are so closely connected.) Tuk and Raymond looked up at the sky with worried faces. (Oooo thunderstorms. Scary. Never seen those before. p.s. You look with eyes, not with faces.) They were planning to return to the states (to… to…) and would come back to Tayang once Kimchaa's visa was approved. (Why are Tuk and Raymond waiting for Kimchaa?) Kimchaa herself began making a list of things she wanted to take with her, scribbling items clumsily on the back of an envelope with her arthritic hands. (Scribbling feels like a fast word, whereas arthritis implies a slow action.) The items (items… items…) were silly things that Nam (wait, who?) was sure she (Nam? Kimchaa?) would be able to find in America: soap, tissues, a bottle of drinking water—but the family decided that this (this ___?) was a good distraction for the old woman. (Nam? Kimchaa?)
ReplyDeleteAt night, Nam cried to herself. (As a habit? As a one-time deal?) She had no doubt that the visa would be approved. Families transformed so easily these days, and nothing was ever permanent anymore. (The parallelism needs to be improved on either side of this and.) Her sister had moved to America. Nam had come to live on this farm. Now their mother would spend the last years of her life in a new world, one far different from what she was accustomed to, her natural place. (I’m so confused about the family relationships right now I almost want to throw my hands and give up, except that’s already the end of the excerpt.)
This is all very procedural and dry. I don’t find myself investing in anything. If this is the start of the story, I need some sense of the relationships behind the people and some reason – it doesn’t have to be exciting – to at least find their packing and their perception of the weather interesting. There’s enough detail in here that I can tell you have a vivid sense of the people and the place. Now make the reader have that same vivid sense and you’ll be on the right path.
So... a few places there I was maybe a little over-the-top, but there were also some places I toned it down. Interestingly, I found it easier to be harsh and demanding in the specifics, but I couldn't bring myself to write the closing comment the way it first popped into my head.
ReplyDeleteIs everyone on their lunch break all of a sudden?
ReplyDeleteScott G to the F, thanks for the critique!
Charlie, thank you also!
Ricardo, I'll be interested to see if the nice critiques on Wednesday seem equally helpful to people. I dare say I think they will be. As for the abrasiveness, Tiger Mother does not care to avoid abrasiveness! :)
Nevets, thanks for the critique, and thanks for talking about how it was to write it too. I also noticed a difference in the specific comments as opposed to the general ones. And, I felt myself backing off in the general comments. Maybe they don't need to be written.
Here's my tiger-mom review of Excerpt D ("big D"?):
ReplyDeleteThe rainy season announced its arrival with a thunder storm. Tuk and Raymond looked up at the sky with worried faces. [This seems like a too-obvious attempt to link conditions in the external world with the characters' internal lives, because there's no obvious reason Tuk and Raymond should be concerned about the weather when they're getting ready to leave] They were planning to return to the states ["States"] and would come back to Tayang once Kimchaa's visa was approved. Kimchaa herself began making a list of things she wanted to take with her, scribbling items clumsily [the rhythm here is very choppy, though that could be your intent] on the back of an envelope with her arthritic hands. [not sure why the "arthritic" detail is necesary here, it seems not to fit as well with the other things you're choosing to show in the excerpt, like her rootedness and decision to leave, and if it's just to show her age, you already do that with "old" in the next sentence.] The items were silly things that Nam was sure she would be able to find in America: soap, tissues, a bottle of drinking water—but the family decided that this was a good distraction for the old woman.
At night, Nam cried to herself. She had no doubt that the visa would be approved. Families transformed so easily these days, and nothing was ever permanent anymore. [I don't like the feel of this sentence in terms of its voice -- all the other sentences in this paragraph are very concrete, very one-step-at-a-time, whereas this one balloons up to a high level of generality, almost like an aphorism, and its diction is more elevated (e.g., "transformed" instead of "cried" and "moved" and "spend"; "permanent" instead of "different" and "natural"), and its rhythm is longer and smoother-flowing.] Her sister had moved to America. Nam had come to live on this farm. Now their mother would spend the last years of her life in a new world, one far different from what she was accustomed to, her natural place. [I realize "what she was accustomed to" is different in meaning from "her natural place," but they are close enough that it feels redundant, and "her natural place" is much more powerful for me, so I would take out the former and leave only the latter.]
Nevets said, "I need some sense of the relationships behind the people"
ReplyDeleteI don't need that; I just need the writing to be more clear and focused. I can wait a long time before I get anything in the way of a hook into the characters' emotions if I have smooth and beautiful writing. I think it's okay to start with the weather, for example. I think it's okay to start with a detailed and loving description of an antique button or whatever. As long as the writing is moving and well-wrought. This passage is just trying to do too many things and doesn't quite accomplish any of them because the writer--and therefore the reader--are looking around too much with no idea what to look for. Focus, that's my advice. Doesn't so much matter on what, as long as you do it. Find a single thing to put into my reader's hand that will let me pull myself into the story. Why aren't we getting a scene, though? That's my big question. Open with a scene, not a summary.
Domey sez: "Tiger Mother does not care to avoid abrasiveness!"
ReplyDeleteI see you write in third person when you get tough. Is being abrasive against your nature?
Though let's not get too wrapped up in the "opening paragraph" mindset. In the last couple of weeks I've read three novels that all had openings that I didn't quite get; the language was unclear and I really had no idea what I was reading, but I kept going and loved all three books anyway.
ReplyDeleteI might start reading books at page 2 from now on, just to see what that's like.
I can wait a long time before I get anything in the way of a hook into the characters' emotions if I have smooth and beautiful writing.
ReplyDeleteI actually agree with this in a lot of ways, but when what I'm presented with a smorgasboard of people who are interdependent on one another, I personally find myself very confused without some inkling of the nature of those interdependencies.
One thing I didn't address in the comments I made: it starts off like a scene but then the jump to Nam crying at night seems to take us out of the scene and into something less anchored.
@Domey - I think the concluding remarks are important but I think Tiger Mom would have told me to man up.
ReplyDeleteThese are so great, Davin! As I thought, though, you weren't MEAN. You were thorough and honest and professional. I can always handle that kind of feedback!
ReplyDeleteAlso, a general comment about Tiger-Mom Reviews in general:
ReplyDeleteIt seems like this type of review has a few attribute: First, no praising of what the writing gets right or does well, because it assumes that success is the norm. Second, it looks carefully for problem areas and spares no detail -- nothing is too small to bear fixing, and no benefit of the doubt is given. And third, it's blunt in its phrasing.
I think that mix of attributes makes tiger-mom reviews a mixed bag for me. Number 2 is, for me, an unqualified Good Thing -- if we want to do well, if we have high expectations for our work, we should welcome unstinting detail in our critiques. As for Number 3, I'm a big ambivalent. On the one hand, we're grown-ups and shouldn't have to qualify all our critiques with wishy-washy "it's just my opinion," or "maybe not everyone would agree, but" and the like. But I think some level of humility or tact in how criticism is expressed (particulary when it's an excerpt being critiqued instead of an entire work) can help the criticism be more effective.
But my real problem with the tiger-mom type critiques is Number 1. There's no reason to me that high expectations need be associated with a lack of praise. For one thing, sometimes something I write will work, but I won't realize it or wasn't conciously shooting for that effect. In that case, praising what does work can help me learn as much as pointing out the errors. And for another thing, I don't think there's any incompatibility between having high standards and expectations and giving praise -- after all, Tolstoy, Woolf, et al. did some great things, and if we want to create work on par with theirs, we'll be doing some great things too. And finally, this kind of criticism-only approach can foster an attitude in the person being critiqued that greatness lies just in avoiding errors instead of doing something positively great.
But I have to say, I think this was a very informative and enjoyable experience. And I think everyone was more interested in getting the tiger-mom reviews because the searching, gloves-off approach is, in many ways, very refreshing.
Jabez, thank you very much for the critique!
ReplyDeleteMichelle, I think some comments were "mean" compared to how I would tend to say it. "This is boring" is not usually how I would phrase it, but I think there could be some value to it when put that way.
Jabez again, that's a really great analysis. I'd say that your #2 point is probably, for me, the most important point to this review style. For your point #1, I'm actually mixed on that. I do think it depends on the writer or the person. I've encountered people who only hear the good, even if the review was a balance of good and bad. (At the moment, I'm thinking of scientists, not writers, but it applies to writers as well.) Compliments get in the way for some people. Also, if you'll notice, my review of Excerpt B did have a slight compliment tucked away in there. With all of the Tiger Mother-type people I've encountered, I do usually see them give the occasional compliment, and it's pretty special when they do.
Charlie, I can get abrasive, yes. I do often, but I try not to.
ReplyDeleteDomey,
ReplyDeleteI get what you're saying about for some people criticism can get in the way. I hadn't thought of that, and it's a very good point. Also, I like the idea of praise meaining something because it's never pro forma. But I do think that (excepting when, as you say, you're critiquing for those who have trouble seeing the negative when positive comments get in the way), that it's a trap to fall into when you fail to praise simply because success is assumed. I believe there's a balance there -- don't praise someone just to be doing it, or for little good things that someone of their expected level of competence should be expected to produce, but don't take real achievement for granted.
And yes, you weren't unrelentingly negative in your own tiger-reviews. I didn't mean to imply that, if I did.
I worked all day with no computer so I am late. I claim Exerpt B and have to say that I found the criticism less harsh then expected and agree with all of it. The first sentence IS boring. It is at the beginning of what is currently chapter two and leads directly from the last sentence of chapter one, so perhaps in context is less dull, but still, could be improved. I threw this piece out there because I'm loving it a little too much and thought some red type might help me see it more clearly. By the way, I am horrified at my cliches. I was aware of the first one, but the others got right by me which is a great example of why objective criticism is so important. That said, I'm holding on to "It has its strengths." Addressing the weaknesses in the piece goes so much easier when you know the thing has some redeeming value. Thank you Domey for taking the time to review this and letting me be a part of your "Tiger Mother" experiment.
ReplyDeleteLiza, I'm glad you got something out of this. Thanks for stopping by after your long day! For the record, I thought the first sentence was fine, and my comment was about the second sentence. I did figure it was part of a longer story and would make sense that way.
ReplyDeleteI am too late to make any comment on the critiquing that hasn't already been made.
ReplyDeleteI do want to second Scott's point about reading from the second page. Well kind of. I too have read many books that didn't grab me at the beginning that I kept on reading and found them good.
Similarly, the more popular books published recently all seem to smack of Too Much Hype In The Beginning. Reading a few of these beginnings and I start getting whiplash.
Hmm, now that I see the Tiger Mother method in action, I don't think it would suit my critique style. I didn't agree with some of the line crits from the first three excerpts, but I don't look at each sentence so indepth. My own style is somewhere between the Sandwich and Tiger I think.
ReplyDeleteHowever, I did agree pretty much with your overall assessment Domey. So my method would have varied, but the outcome would have been the same.
Had I received a critique of this nature I would not be offended. It has honesty and constructive remarks. I get tired of flowery words to tell me something is BORING. Tell me how it made you feel/think and get it out there. I asked for an opinion and I know it is specific to you.
So much easier to deal with directness like this.
For the record; that last excerpt did run on too long without saying anything that would keep me reading. The first line did not appear to have anything to do with the rest of the excerpt. And all the names were a distraction. A laundry list of people who would be going on a trip.
Thanks to everyone who contributed their works. And thanks to you also Domey for sharing your technique and teaching method.
......dhole