Hi everyone, this month we’re looking at how we make it through the summer to get our writing done and our critiquing. It can be tough to find time to critique when the kids are home for the summer. Here is how we both handle those lazy, crazy, wonderful days of summer.
Sue’s Comments
Ah, summer time. The kids are out of school, family visits, vacations are being planned and time to write and critique not only your own work but the people in your critique group has gone out the window.
So what to do. Well, in one of our critique groups we simply stopped meeting for our regular breakfast once a week and decided to critique on-line. But that hasn’t really worked out too well, as there is no “deadline” of when to send our stuff to the group.
We could critique and edit our own work either early in the morning or late at night when the family is sleeping and the house quiet...but that doesn’t work too well either, as by nighttime, we’re usually too tired and early morning work requires a lot of discipline...
Discipline to set the darn alarm, get up without waking anyone up, make the coffee and actually settle down at the computer.
So here is our list of how to critique and survive the summer:
1 - Don’t give up your group. Go on line if you have to or exchange morning meetings at different members’ homes and all pitch in for a baby sitter if needed.
2 - At the “last” meeting before the summer starts, have everyone bring their calendars... we don’t mean those little ones in your check book or small notebook… but the big ones you live and die by. Map out the meetings and get everyone to agree on the dates. If you plan the whole summer you can then work around your meetings instead of the other way around.
3 - Learn to critique in other places. Several of my favorite places are the doctor’s or dentist’s offices, the dog park, before dinner when the cooking is under control, or even at the pool while watching the kids’ swimming meet.
It’s important to think of yourself as a writer and be disciplined. It’s the discipline that will get you published. Long ago when I was an editor of a national magazine and worked with beginning writers, I learned that to get published it is better to work with a writer who can get their work in on time and is disciplined to understand edits and editorial comments than to work with a supremely talented writer who wanted to do it only her way. Grin. Slow and steady is the name of the game or so said the tortoise.
Becky’s Comments
For me, summer is actually a good time to get caught up. It’s fun to get out of the house, but I always take a notebook or laptop with me, even if it’s just to eat lunch out or have coffee. I’ve heard best selling mystery writers Harlan Coben and John Sandford talk about how they regularly write over dinners out or at coffee shops and I’ve been doing the same thing for years. Those outside venues can be a good way to break up the normal sit-at-the-office-desk routine.
Yes, there can be a problem with discipline in the summer. For instance, things seem to move slower, whether you’re waiting to hear from publishers or trying to get your own work done. It’s harder to concentrate when there is the daily lure of getting outside to do all the things you can’t do during the winter.
When it comes to the critique process, I regularly work with an online critique group and the way we handle the summer months is by giving members a pass during the weeks when they are on vacation. If they want to critique while they’re out of town—which I normally do—they can, but they can also skip sending material or skip critiquing for that one go-round.
We have five people in our group and we have set up certain days every month to send in our material—the 15th and the 30th. On those dates we email 10-15 pages of our work and then everyone has one week to finish the critique and send it back. This way we have a definite deadline that everyone needs to meet on a regular basis. Keeping that sort of schedule and a fixed deadline can keep the critique group working, even during the summer.
Deadlines are an important part of critiquing. Knowing that you have a certain number of pages to finish by the next week or in two weeks can help keep your productivity up. If you’re too busy to get your group or partner’s pages read, then let the group know you need to skip a round. It’s usually easier to work that out than to stress over the pages or drop the group all together.
As I mentioned, when I go on vacation, I still continue to critique. Since I got my first laptop 14 years ago, I have never traveled without my laptop, even if it’s for a couple of days only. Sitting in airports is a good time to work on edits or critiques, and there is all that time while you’re in the air with nothing to do.
There are always times and places to critique, so enjoy the summer, but don’t lose sight of your writing goals!
We would love to hear from all of you as to how you manage editing and critiquing in the summer months. Drop us a note at writethatnovel@gmail.com and let us know how you do it...
This month’s critique
Red CAPS are from Sue... while blue CAPS are from Becky
Here is the scene.
Grace strolled out of the bathroom into the bedroom clothed in a drift of L’air du Temps and nothing else. Anointed between her thighs, her breasts and at the pulse in her throat, she went up to the bed and leaned over Simon.
He lay on his back, asleep, his spiky black eyelashes fanned out on his cheeks. They could have a daughter with those same astonishing eyelashes. She stood quietly waiting for her perfume to reach out to him. He stirred. She bent closer and whispered, “Simon, wake up.”
His eyes, slitted against the light, widened at the sight of her breasts swaying above his face. He raised a hand and caressed her.
“What’s that perfume?” he asked. “Something new? I don’t remember--”
“Shh.” She tossed the sheet aside and straddled him. Ignoring the stubble on his chin, she kissed his lips, and when he was ready, eased her way slowly into the connection they both loved.
Later, spread-eagled on his back with Grace lying curled against him, he glanced over at her and grinned. “That was quite an eye opener. Better than coffee.”
“Speaking of which.”
“Not so soon. I’m ready for an encore.”
Good, she thought. Good. Today’s the day. As he lifted himself over her and began anew, a question leapt into her mind. What would he say when she told him she’d stopped taking the pill?
# # #
Afterward, in the townhouse kitchen with its stainless steel countertops and the high-tech appliances Simon had chosen, she measured out coffee grounds, sprinkled them into the basket and carefully poured four cups of water into the Cuisinart. She hated wasting water, and they rarely drank more than two cups apiece.
From the refrigerator, she took out orange juice, bagels, and cream cheese for a quick breakfast. Even so, they’d be late getting to the office. But she didn’t regret a minute, and as she worked, a robe sashed loosely around her waist, her copper hair held high with a clip, she let her mind replay the morning.
Simon knew how to make love to a woman. He knew all the right buttons to press, all the secret places that made her want to scream. He brought out everything she had to give—every time. What more could she ask of him?
A child.
They both agreed to wait before starting a family—to get to know each other better, enjoy a carefree life for a while, ski, sail, work on their careers, honeymoon. But playtime was over. Her biological clock was ticking. Not fast, maybe, but ticking nonetheless.
The bagel popped up. She rescued it from the toaster and slathered it with cream cheese. But whenever she started talking of babies and her longing for one, Simon changed the subject. And he wouldn’t tell her why. Lord knows, she’d asked why often enough. Too often.
SUE’S COMMENTS
A FAIRLY WELL-DONE SCENE...BUT IT NEEDS MUCH MORE EMOTION...THIS IS A BIGGIE...BEING OFF THE PILL...SO I NEED MORE EMOTIONAL REACTIONS AND INTERNAL REACTIONS FROM HER.
A FEW WORD CHOICES... DELETE A FEW TAGS AND WATCH THE TENSES... BE CAREFUL WITH THE CHOREOGRAPHY.. AND NEED ANSWERS TO SEVERAL QUESTIONS...
OTHER WISE, A NICE SCENE. SUE
Grace strolled out of the bathroom into the bedroom clothed in a NOT SURE THIS WORD WORKS... I KNOW YOU MEAN SURROUNDING HER, BUT DRIFT DOESN’T DO IT.. of L’air du Temps and nothing else. ALSO DOESN’T WORK, AT LEAST FOR ME.... HOW ABOUT “A DAB” between her thighs, her breasts and at the pulse in her throat, she went up to the bed and leaned over Simon. NEED A DESCRIPTION HERE... SATIN SHEETS, CALIFORNIA SIZE BED, ETC.
He lay on his back, asleep, his spiky black eyelashes fanned out on his cheeks. They could have a daughter with those same astonishing eyelashes. AND WHAT... SHE WOULD BE GORGEOUS She stood I THOUGHT SHE WAS LEANING OVER HIM??? quietly waiting for her perfume to reach out AND SURROUND HIM. He stirred. She bent closer and whispered, “Simon, wake up.”
His eyes, slitted against the light, widened at the sight of her breasts swaying above his face. SO NOW SHE’S BACK TO LEANING He raised a hand and caressed her. WHAT PART OF HER???? GRIN...
“What’s that perfume?” YOU DON’T NEED THE TAG AS WE KNOW IT HAS TO BE SIMON THAT IS TALKING...“Something new? I don’t remember--”
“Shh.” She tossed the sheet aside OKAY...IF THE SHEET IS THERE, WHERE IS IT??? and straddled him. Ignoring the stubble on his chin, she kissed his lips, and when he was ready, eased her way slowly into the connection they both loved. NICE
Later, spread-eagled on his back with Grace lying curled against HIS SIDE, he grinned. “That was quite an eye opener. Better than coffee.”
“Speaking of which.”
“Not so soon. I’m ready for an encore.”
Good, she thought. Good. NEED A MORE EXCITING WORD...GOOD IS A BIT MILD FOR WHAT SHE IS DOING... Today’s the day.
(NEW PARAGRAPH) As he TURNED AND lifted himself over her and began anew, a question leapt into her mind. What would he say when she told him she’d stopped taking the pill?
# # # THESE NEED TO GO IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LINE
# # #
Afterward, in the townhouse kitchen with its stainless steel countertops and the high-tech appliances Simon had chosen, she measured out coffee grounds,(DELETE-sprinkled them) into the basket and carefully poured four cups of water into the Cuisinart. She hated wasting water, and they rarely drank more than two cups apiece. SO WHY DID SHE MAKE FOUR CUPS????
From the refrigerator, she took out orange juice, bagels, and cream cheese for a quick breakfast. Even so, they’d be late getting to the office. But she didn’t regret a minute, and as she worked, a robe sashed loosely around her waist, her copper hair held high with a clip, she let her mind replay the morning.
Simon knew how to make love to a woman. He knew all the right buttons to press, all the secret places that made her want to scream. He brought out everything she had to give—every time. What more could she ask of him?
A child.
YES, A CHILD... THIS IS QUITE AN EMOTIONAL MOMENT... NEED TO PLAY IT UP MORE...
They’D both agreed to wait before starting a family—to get to know each other better, enjoy a carefree life for a while, ski, sail, work on their careers, honeymoon. But playtime was over. Her biological clock was ticking. Not fast, maybe, but ticking nonetheless. MAYBE A BIT MORE HERE... DO WE KNOW HER AGE AT THIS POINT IN THE STORY???
The bagel popped. She rescued it from the toaster and slathered it with cream cheese. But whenever she TALKED of babies and her longing for one, Simon changed the subject. And he wouldn’t tell her why. Lord knows, she’d asked why often enough. Too often.
BECKY’S COMMENTS
THIS IS A GOOD PASSAGE THAT PROVIDES SOME GOOD INSIGHT INTO THE HEROINE. IT SHOWS WONDERFUL FLASHES OF EMOTION, BUT WE DEFINITELY NEED MORE. SHE IS MAKING SOME BIG INTERNAL DECISIONS HERE AND THEY SHOULD BE SHARED WITH THE READER.
Grace strolled out of the bathroom into the bedroom clothed ONLY in a CLOUD (DELETE drift ) of L’air du Temps and nothing else. Anointed between her thighs, her breasts and at the pulse in her throat, (THIS READS LIKE A DANGLING MODIFIER AND SOUNDS CONFUSING SO IT SHOULD PROBABLY BE CHANGED OR CLARIFIED.—PERHAPS SAY ANOINTED WITH THE PERFUME BETWEEN…ETC) she went up to the bed and leaned over Simon.
He lay on his back, asleep, his spiky black eyelashes fanned out on his cheeks.
(NEW PARAGRAPH BECAUSE WE ARE GETTING HER REACTION TO HIM.) They could have a daughter with those same astonishing eyelashes. She stood quietly waiting for her perfume to reach out to him. (HOW LONG? SECONDS? MINUTES?) He stirred. She bent closer and whispered, “Simon, wake up.”
His eyes, slitted against the light, widened at the sight of her breasts swaying above his face. He raised a hand and caressed her. (WHERE? WHAT PART OF HER DOES HE TOUCH?)
HE INHALED. “What’s that perfume? (DELETE ” He asked.) Something new? I don’t remember--”
“Shh.” She tossed the sheet aside and straddled him. Ignoring the stubble on his chin, she kissed his lips, and when he was ready, eased her way slowly into the connection they both loved.
Later, spread-eagled on his back with Grace lying curled against him, he glanced over at her and grinned. “That was quite an eye opener. Better than coffee.”
“Speaking of which.” (DOES SHE MOVE HERE? PERHAPS START TO SIT UP?)
“Not so soon. I’m ready for an encore.” (ANY PHYSICAL REACTION FROM HIM?)
Good, she thought. Good. Today’s the day. (ITALICIZE HER DIRECT THOUGHTS) As he lifted himself over her and began anew, a question leapt into her mind. What would he say when she told him she’d stopped taking the pill?
# # #
Afterward, in the townhouse kitchen with its stainless steel countertops and the high-tech appliances Simon had chosen, she measured (DELETE-out) coffee grounds, sprinkled them into the basket and carefully poured four cups of water into the Cuisinart. She hated wasting water, and they rarely drank more than two cups apiece.
From the refrigerator, she took out orange juice, bagels, and cream cheese for a quick breakfast. (DELETE Even so) They’d be late getting to the office, but she didn’t regret a minute. (DELETE- and) As she worked, a robe TIED (DELETE-sashed) loosely around her waist, her copper hair held high with a clip, she let her mind replay the morning.
Simon knew how to make love to a woman. He knew all the right buttons to press, all the secret places that made her want to scream. (MADE HER WANT TO SCREAM? OR DID HE MAKE HER SCREAM?) He brought out everything she had to give—every time. What more could she ask of him?
A child.
They both agreed to wait before starting a family—to get to know each other better, enjoy a carefree life for a while, ski, sail, work on their careers, honeymoon. But playtime was over. Her biological clock was ticking. Not fast, maybe, but ticking nonetheless. (MAYBE ADD SOMETHING HERE ABOUT SHE FELT SHE NEEDED TO GET MOVING ON THE BABY NOW – ADD SOME OF HER FEELINGS TOO SINCE SHE IS IN ESSENCE BETRAYING THEIR AGREEMENT)
The bagel popped up. She rescued it from the toaster and slathered it with cream cheese. (DELETE-But) Whenever she started talking of babies and her longing for one, Simon changed the subject. And he wouldn’t tell her why. Lord knows, she’d asked why often enough. Too often. (AGAIN, WE NEED MORE OF HER FEELINGS)
Thanks to this month's writer. We'll be sending you a story board chart. If you would like to have a few paragraphs critiqued on our blog, or if there is work you'd like us to look over, please email us at writethatnovel@gmail.com and if your piece is used on our blog we'll send you a storyboard to use in your plotting.
We'd also like to hear more on how you critique in the summer or during busy times, so please leave a comment.
