I’m pretty comfortable with being naked. If I’m backpacking with friends and someone suggests a skinny dip after a long day of hiking, my clothes are off before she’s finished her sentence. I have plunged naked into Lake Superior, remote rivers in the Adirondack wilderness, and glacial lakes in Washington state (not to mention some neighbors’ pools).
Sharing my fiction, however, is a whole different kind of being naked, one that’s much more difficult. I’m currently more than 100 pages in to a new novel, my first in almost a decade. Thus far I have shown my WIP to exactly one person, the writing partner I meet with every month. With my previous novels (three published, two started and abandoned), I’d shown my writing to at least six or seven others by this point, including my agent and editor. But not this time.
I’m reluctant to share for several reasons. One, I’m in a honeymoon phase with this new novel. I love my story, I love my characters, I love the way it’s unfolding, and it’s a joy to work on. I’m not sure I’m ready to have someone point out the inevitable flaws and shortcomings of my beloved. Second, I’m writing at an unusually (for me) productive pace. I don’t want negative feedback to discourage me to the point that I slow down. Finally, I am naked in this book. The characters are not me, the story is not anything I have done or that has happened to me, but the insecurities, fears, lapses in judgment, failures, longings, griefs—I know those all too well. Sharing this book is showing pieces of my bare soul to the world.
Of course we all do that when we write. If a book is to have any emotional truth, then we have to write the hard, scary, unpleasant truths. It’s not easy for me to peel back the layers of myself and show those truths to others. Yet, getting feedback is a key part of the process of writing and refining and perfecting our work. How do you know what to show, when, and to who?
One of my friends doesn’t show anything to anyone until she’s finished a solid first draft. Another shares in thirds—give the first third to some select readers, then adjust, give the second third, etc. Some writers I know share with friends; others share with readers they’ve found through writing groups or on social media. So, almost 20 years and (almost) four books in to this whole process, here’s what I know:
Think about what you want. What’s your goal in sharing your work at whatever stage you choose to share it? Do you want encouragement that your WIP is good, some incentive to keep going? Or do you want to know what is or isn’t working, what plot holes you need to fix, what shadowy characters need to be more fully drawn? There’s value in most kinds of feedback. It’s important to be clear with yourself what you’re hoping to get from it.
Choose your readers carefully. If your best friend is brilliant and a natural editor and insightful but someone who hates Sci Fi and you write Sci Fi, she’s probably not your best early reader. Ditto your sister, or your dad or anyone who loves you and doesn’t want to hurt your feelings by saying anything remotely negative about your work.
Generally, you’ll find your best readers amongst other writers and voracious readers. Fellow writers understand the mechanics and can often articulate what is or isn’t working, as well as suggest how to fix something that needs fixing. They can tell you if your characters’ actions make sense, if their motivations are clear, if the plot follows a logical progression (and hopefully not a predictable one). Readers can tell you how they felt reading it, if the ending felt right, if they found characters to root for, if they thought about it after they’d finished reading.
For me, the best readers are a few circles removed from my closest friends. When close friends or family read my books, they’re inevitably guessing which character is based on which real person in my life, no matter how often I explain that that’s not true. While writing my first novel, I showed an early draft to my best friend. The novel featured a married couple with a healthy sex life. My friend came over as soon as she finished reading, knocked on the door, and when my husband answered she looked at him and said, “I’m so GLAD you guys have such a great sex life!” At which he turned to me and said, “What do I do? I don’t want to say it’s fiction.” The point: Find readers who don’t know you so intimately that they read your fiction as a diary.
Don’t take all criticism as gospel. This is closely related to choosing your readers with a lot of thought. If one reader dislikes a character or finds fault with a plot thread, hear that. But don’t consider it a problem unless you hear that same issue mentioned by at least two or three different readers. Trust your gut. Early on in writing my current WIP, my writing partner suggested I drop one POV, that of a 13-year-old girl, because the other POV was a 56-year-old woman and it meant the book fell into a no-man’s land of not really adult fiction and not really young adult. I took this seriously, and concentrated on the main POV. But the 13-year-old’s voice wouldn’t leave me, so I wrote a handful of her chapters. The next time I met with my writing partner she said, “I’m so glad you ignored me. This is great.” Yes, my book may be a hybrid. But it’s working.
Put yourself out there. Writing is an act of courage. You’re writing because you have something to say, a story to tell, an understanding to share. You’re writing to entertain, to inspire, to move, to heal. Don’t do it halfway. Plunge in—naked. Your writing will be the better for it.
At what point do you share your WIP with others? How do you choose who you want to read your early chapters or drafts? How does getting input change what you do?
