Goldilocks, Golden Locks, Happy Monkeys and Critique Groups

For over a week I've been working on an article for a newsletter about what makes a good critique group.

Over the years I've belonged to a few crit groups, but I wanted to get perspectives from other writers about their groups. To gain some insight I queried a cross-section of writers and asked for feedback.

I expected to hear back from maybe a handful of writers, but was pleasantly surprised to receive e-mails from more than a dozen!

Alice, who belongs to Coffee and Critique (C&C), a critique group I co-founded with Lou Turner, compared finding our group with the Goldilocks fairy tale. Some previous groups Alice had belonged too gave her nothing but compliments, another was brutal, but our group points out sterengths as well as weaknesses in her works. In Alice's words, our group is "not too soft ... not too hard ... but just right." I love her analogy.

Another writer who responded is Lisa, who lives in New York and belongs to a group called The Happy Monkeys. Even though I don't know why the group is called The Happy Monkeys, and Lisa didn't explain how they got their name (it's a long story, she wrote), Lisa's group sounds great. Lisa wrote that her group works because the members will tell her when something is wonderful and will also tell her when something needs work.

A common element among several responses I received is that writers want honest feedback given in a tactful manner. As far as receiving critiques--have a thick skin and be able to take it gracefully.

Which brings me to my second project--a short story I'm working on for a Western anthology.

The main character is Bridie (short for Bridget) O'Shea, a teenage girl who gets tricked into leaving Missouri and finds herself working at a "Joy House" in Indian Territory.

The short story has four characters. One of them is a fictional U. S. Army Colonel who visits Bridie. The story is pure fiction, but the colonel's character is based on an actual historical figure.

The setting is in the 1870s in Indian Territory. The colonel is particular about is appearance ---especially his long golden locks.

I did a lot of research, including the time, setting--especially the details about the colonel. I decided not to name his character, but given the context and with all the clues and historical references I included, I felt certain members of my critique group would "get" his identity. For the most part they did.

Last week I read the first five pages. Most folks figured out the colonel was based on George Armstrong Custer.

Yesterday I read the last five pages. Someone who wasn't present last week thought I needed to name the character or folks wouldn't know who he was. My response was something akin to "Well, then they'd be stupid."

Did I actually say that? Yep. It just slipped out. So much for having a thick skin or receiving critiques gracefully. I apologized afterwards, but still . . .

Someone else commented there are too many characters in the story. But, hey, I only have four characters!

Someone else commented one of the character names sounded Mexican and not Indian. Did they miss the part in the story where Custer spent time in the Mexican War?

My lesson in all of this is no matter how much research I've done and how well I know my characters and story--if the reader doesn't get it, he isn't stupid, I haven't done my job.

No matter how much I've learned about belonging to a critique group, receiving feedback gracefully and having a thick skin--I've still got a lot to learn.