Critique Partners

It looks like I missed several poetry days. I hadn’t posted on my blog because I was revising my women’s fiction novel, Fogged Up Fairy Tale, and working on a book of short stories, Snapshot Stories. I’m getting down to the nitty gritty of my novel, so I also took the time to look for another critique partner. It’s harder than revising. 

Critiques are one of the creative services I offer. I know how hard it is to find a good critique partner, and how extremely important it is to have one during revisions. A writer should pay for a critique if they are unable to find a partner. A critique is critical in assisting the writer with finding flaws and letting them know when something is working. They help mold the book.

My critiques are thorough when it comes to character, plot, writing, style, dialogue, details, show vs. tell, and inconsistencies. When I work on someone’s book or short story, I want their works to be a success. They get the most from me or I wouldn’t waste my time. Some might say my critiques are brutally honest, but I don’t think I’m to the extreme. Honesty is important when analyzing works, so I tell it like it is using examples to back up my comments. My critiques also embrace praise when I see something is working or find a great line or phrase. I believe it’s important to let the writer know what they’re doing right as well as where I think they could use some help. In the end, the writer is going to choose what they deem beneficial to their works.

Finding a good critique partner is a grueling process. Everyone’s writing is different, and they are at different stages in their writing career. Also, if you find flaws and faults in a writer’s work, they might retaliate by marking up your work without cause. This has happened to me in the past. It takes time looking for and testing out critique partners.

I have a great critique partner and I thought another point of view would be great at this stage in my revisions. After posting on social media that I was looking for a critique partner, two women contacted me the same week, so we set up some guidelines. The first woman found me on Tumblr, and wanted to know if I was interested in swapping stories. Unfortunately, it turned out English wasn’t her first language, and it would have been more of an edit than a critique. I contacted her and explained why I couldn’t continue with the swap. She was very nice, and accepted my decline without argument or insults.

The second woman was flexible with deadlines, but I stressed the importance in keeping with a bi-weekly schedule. It turned out that we were at different stages in our writing careers, so the swaps wouldn’t be beneficial. Again, I sent an email explaining why I couldn’t continue with the critique. Thank goodness she was another nice woman who agreed that we weren’t a good fit.

I’m back to one. But hey, I’m not complaining, I’d rather have one great critique partner than five bad ones.

What are your experiences with critique partners?

Analysis and Honesty,

Bea

Ode to a Gift

This is another poem from my poetry eBook, Sipping a Mix of Verse. Ode – a poem praising a person, place or thing—my one and only Ode.

Ode to a Gift

1.

My lungs grow still, air slowly vacuumed up,
a distilled lightness caused by droopy eyes.
The power to rest my heart is found in a cup
or a sharpened edge, closer to my demise;
It’s not for want to carry this to the end,
sorrow leading towards the rocky cliff
where the docile surrender to a cold call.
Monotone voice crackles, deafens words that blend,
taste the bitterness which makes my body stiff.
Raise my head to heaven, begging before I crawl.

2.

The peril of this news drips and burns like acid
words searing skin, throws me against the wall.
A silent movie of memories plays in a placid
room made to steal unhappiness and enthrall;
Draws me up to ease this unrequested burden
where death is planning an early impromptu trip,
consumed by thoughts of leaving before arrival.
My stagger leads me to a full bottle of bourbon
to forget about reality and let fantasy slip
in knowing this is the last chance for survival.

3.

Watch children run through meadows of color.
Intimate whispers exchanged from lover’s lips.
Senses will end from the expression of the caller
pull me away from life, ready to write my scripts;
Then laughter seeps through window panes and doors,
requires reaction to nature’s unwritten music.
Turn my head, faltering from original sins,
similar to what men do when fighting wars.
Although brought back by a warm anesthetic,
and therefore the cure for sorrow begins.

4.

Forget what might come of my withered corpse
bones chipped by disease with curdled blood.
The façade will give way as the mind warps
let this sink in, turn a cheek I know I should;
A perilous thought prevents a skilled cure
to help my pitied soul rise above such amiss.
Fortified by love, amend for future dreams.
Naked I stand before a mirror, once so pure
closed eyes and smile while I reminisce,
your presence repeats splendid themes. 

5.

Supported words blanket my swollen heart
For I vowed to ignore the dark whispers.
Perchance, quality exists for a fresh start
stand high, God’s breath - the zephyrs;
Smell renewed love from spring time dew,
Laugh at the awkwardness of dodging rain.
But remember recent events to show scars,

however today I shall read vows to renew.
Let the pain swirl around then down the drain
Lay under a sycamore tree, last wish on the stars.

6.

A steady drip echoes my darkened belief
while eyes close on an old blossomed seed.
Body drifts into the abyss, a disowned leaf
heart ripped from my chest like dead weeds;
Decayed part replaced by unfortunate donor
accept rejection is part of this thoughtful game.
Drugs will be one of my closest friends
except I can’t thank its previous owner,
who wore this heart inside his or her frame,
so duty to explore the rest, lies in my lens.

7.

Wake fresh with another’s beating past
ended quickly with enormous tragedy.
Now responsible for both to surpassed
the others with what was given as a remedy;
Question own mortality opens vault
of truth and lies of how I’ve led,
yet stranger calls from six feet under
says ignore where those declare fault.
Forget what had been done and said,
hanging on will cause murderous wonder.

8.

Beauty comes from an unexpected gift
cherish by forgetting history of errors,
and wash away all feelings of guilt.
Listen to precious advice from the bearer;
For once I’m left without a way to describe
overwhelming emotions unable to hide.
Away! This seeker left behind a prize
without interference by threat or bribe,
fills our heart with nothing but pride.
Thanks for giving; now it’s time for good-byes.

Gifts and Life,

Bea