What does criticism inspire you to do? Criticism, whether a scholarly critique penned by a renowned person of letters, or a bellow from the dining room that the sauce needs more oregano, is someone’s response to something that you did. The humdrum marinara is an easier fix than a plot that can’t get off the ground because the characters are cliché and are too busy doing the expectable.
In the case of the sauce, the cook and the consumer of the meal know each other. They are in the same room, breathing in the same aromas of garlic and Italian sausage. They’re probably good friends or family, and may have had a glass or two of vino before the criticism was levied. Drop a sprig or two of oregano into the sauce, and problem solved.
As for literary criticism, as long as everyone agrees that the story in question is a work in progress, then no harm done. Maybe the dialog is droopy, or the main conflict just isn’t volatile enough to warrant the explosion that you wrote into the pivotal scene. If it’s a work in progress, you have much to be thankful for. It may be irksome that your next door neighbor actually did stumble upon a serious flaw in your writing, but it’s better that than an agent or editor.
We all learned about constructive criticism back in grammar school. Don’t criticize another’s work just to be mean. Rather, help your classmate see where he or she might improve his writing, painting, musical score or dramatic reading. When someone says, “I didn’t find the love affair believable.” Or “The plot seemed too Stephen Kingish for me.” Find out what was missing from the love affair, or what was in it that shouldn’t have been. How does this critic define Stephen Kingish? Does it have to do with blood or demons? Is it just the amount of tension? What does it mean?
Try to think of criticism as a tool. Say, “Aha! Now that I have this wisdom I know exactly what I need to do to turn a weakness into a strong point. That’s what’s called being professional. No matter how thick skinned you are, there will always be that devastating remark that comes along when you’re whipped and looking for a word of encouragement. When that happens you’re going to say W-T-F do you know, you idiot! Then you’re going to feel like a jerk, and will probably be spouting apologies like crazy. On top of that, if the idiot did find a flaw, it’ll probably remain unfixed.
A local DC movie reviewer belched out a line that got him tons of laughs and no doubt killed the box office for an early seventies action flick. The film? Who knows. The reviewer? Can’t remember. The line? – Where gods are clods, this is the new Olympus. Movie reviewers like book reviewers have a following. It’s as though they are expected to be outrageous or gushing over this or that fine point. Why people tune in for the predictable is beyond me. Their pontificating hardly helps the writer, director or producer. John Irving’s newest novel, In One Person was reviewed today in the Washington Post by Ron Charles. Although at the end Charles encourages everyone, Irving fans and detractors, to read the book, the review slugs Irving in the gut for becoming a parody on himself, and in the next paragraph praises him for his powerful survey of the AIDS crisis in New York during the eighties.
Will Irving use any of the jabs and barbs to help him write his next book? I doubt it. This isn’t about revving up the marinara. The truth is, John Irving will take into account all of the reviews. He’ll look at the posts on his website and read the email. He’s still growing and his ears are open to what’s being said about his work. Mine? I’m trying, but they still like good news best.
Till later,
Ken