Criticism is Hard

I'm never quite sure how to give people a critique of their writing, especially when it's the first time. Usually by the second or so peer review, one has a sense of the overall "tone" of the class's critiquing culture, be it savage or saintly. I always find it best to operate within the limits of the general atmosphere, because you never want to stick out as "that one guy who gives totally harsh comments and seems to hate everything by everybody."

I find it hard to write the first critique because I'm never quite sure what the balance is supposed to be. How much praise do you write in comparison to how many suggestions you make for improvement? I can't judge by my own scale, because I'm somewhat strange when it comes to this balance; don't get me wrong, I do love to hear people tell me that they enjoyed something and it's always nice to know when something is working, but at the same time, the really interesting part to me is finding out why the broken parts were broken. That's what I want to know. It's why I'm here in the first place. But I know that not everybody shares my love for a good evisceration, so I always feel like I have to be careful, at least in the beginning.

The other problem I often have is how exactly do I phrase my suggestions? The assignment description for the recent critique, to write as though I were a literary agent, was actually one of the most helpful guidelines I've ever been given in this regard. It always seems like, in previous semesters, I'm left trying to figure out "who" I'm supposed to be in this critique. Do I pretend I'm the teacher? Best friend? Arrogant undergraduate?

I'm not quite sure why I have so many neurotic tendencies when it comes to writing comments about other people's work. After all, it's not like I find myself with nothing to say, or that I'm even shy about saying it. I suppose it comes from a deeper truth within myself, the knowledge and solidarity I feel when I consider the comments I've received throughout my life that have helped or hurt me as a writer. Because there's always that one person who manages to slice you, somewhere along the way in a way that didn't help your work, didn't help you in any way, really, and only manages to show up when your self-doubt is telling you to throw in the towel.

I don't ever want to be that guy, to anybody. I'll be the critic, sure. The icy-scythed editor, okay. The free spirit creative soul touchy-feely type, definitely. I don't ever want to be the guy who, however well-intended the comment might have been, makes that one lasting cut.

Words have a power all their own, regardless of the intention of the person who wielded them. It's an important lesson, I think.