Tough Love

I'm in a writer's critique group. A group full of talented writers, some nearing publication, some just starting out.

Our mission is simple: Find stuff wrong in each other's work.

When a piece of writing has got major flaws, the critiques are tough. Tough to give and tough to get.

Sometimes, I feel like the good fairy waving my wand and pronouncing this piece of writing wonderful and that piece of writing ready.

Not this week.

My critiques these past few days have been unusually tough. Maybe I'm getting better and finding more stuff wrong or maybe the writing slipped a little.

I feel like a heel telling someone, "this needs major work."
I just want to say, "I loved it." and be done with it. But that wouldn't be the loving thing to do.

I'm always happy to get an easy crit, where everyone says wonderful things and tells me it's there. But, I'm eternally grateful when someone tears my stuff to shreads. Particularly after I make the changes to my work and find my work is so much better for it.

Growing pains hurt but we need to embrace those causing us to grow.

My critique partners and I have a delicate relationship. When your job is to criticize someone's work, it's hard to feel overly warm and fuzzy toward them. But, we do care about each other.

I know they care for me when they mark up my manuscript. It takes a lot of time to edit someone's work. They want to just tell me, "good job" and be done with it. That's the easy thing to do. The likeable thing. But not the loving thing.