This past week I was asked by one of my fellow writers to give a "quick critique" to a story she was working on. She said it was the best she'd ever written and very proud of it. Her goal was to enter it into a short story contest. Dropping everything, I was absolutely honored she wanted me to read it.
Until I read it.
I like to write. I've been told I don't stink at the craft. I have years of proofreading experience. I've been told I am an excellent copy editor. I understand the basics of the English language, story elements, plot points and character development. Those reasons alone make me want to help other writers.
Where I am most terrible is finding the right and appropriate words to tell someone what they have written is, at best, a work in process without completely disempowering them. My filter has been broken since birth. I so wish I was like one of my dearest friends of 34 years, who can smooth talk in all circumstances with grace and class. When I'm in these situations I always think what would she do? And hope I'm 1/3 as good, which I rarely am.
That said, I wrote my own short story in my critique. Her story held great promise. I told her so. Hopefully I also gave her empowering feedback, explaining that I wasn't sure what her plot was and how her elements fit together. I thought with a few "word tweaks" she probably had this down. And, I offered to read another draft again. Any time.
Hopefully she will feel my feedback was inspiring.
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