A Writer’s Guide to Feedback: What Helps, What Hurts, and How to Use It
Every morning at Clarion West, I faced my worst fears.
By then, I’d already stopped writing twice—once for a year after uni, and once for much longer—both times because someone had used “feedback and critique” as a mask for their cruelty.
And yet, for those six weeks in Seattle, I got up every morning and shuffled down to the basement with my classmates, where N.K. Jemisin, Paul Park, or Stephen Graham Jones was waiting to pick our stories apart. And, perhaps more importantly, help us put them back together.
When the workshop was done, I’d learned something that changed me forever: critique was never meant to be a stick to beat me down. With the right people, and offered in the right way, it was a ladder to climb towards the stories I dreamed about.
Almost ten years later, I still remind myself of this every time I sit down to edit a client’s novel. How some of the best writers in the world helped me with kindness instead of cruelty, and how their wisdom transformed me into the writer (and editor) I am today.
But the best thing about it? You don’t need to spend six weeks in a writing workshop to learn the same principles, or to use constructive feedback to transform your own stories.
You just need the right approach.
For criticism to be useful, it has to do two things: see what you’re trying to achieve, and find ways to help you get there.
Why Good Feedback Matters
For most writers, critique is something to be feared. A fire that will destroy us and everything we’ve worked for. But it doesn’t have to be that way.
With the right guardrails in place, it’s one of the only things that can make our writing better and do it fast.
Here’s why seeking genuine, constructive feedback works so well:
Practical learning. There’s a massive gap between writing theory and having someone point out a problem in your latest work. Seeing it in action changes everything.
Fresh eyes. It’s easy to get lost in the fog when you know everything about a story. We need others to look with a reader’s eye, so we can correct our course accordingly.
Blind spots. Every writer has unconscious habits we struggle with. They’re invisible to us, but feedback can root them out and help us recognise them.
Creative resilience. Constructive feedback isn’t a personal attack. It’s a golden opportunity to make our stories stronger. It also helps thicken our skin, which is vital if we want to put our work out in the world.
From Writing Groups to Critique Exchange: Five Paths to Better Feedback
Of course, not all feedback is created equal, and the path you choose determines what kind of insight you’ll get (and how much you’ll be able to grow from it).
There are several ways that writers seek feedback on their work, and each one offers its own sort of alchemy—turning raw potential into something sharper, more vibrant, and more alive.
And each path has its trade-offs:
Beta readers offer a reader’s perspective, but feedback can be vague, contradictory, and misleading. Finding reliable beta readers who give solid feedback is a whole job in itself. This approach works best for adding a final polish, rather than deep developmental work.
Critique exchange groups (like Critters) can make you a better writer fast. Giving feedback will sharpen your own skills, and the critiques are more structural and in-depth. However, it’s also a lottery—with some people shouting their opinions very loudly—and is best suited to writers looking to build a thick skin.
Writing groups, either in-person or online, can help build community and provide accountability. They also give all the benefits of critique exchange, but can become an echo chamber, with the same people sharing the same advice week after week.
Sharing online in places like Substack can build an audience for your work, and some spaces are very supportive. However, they rarely yield the sort of deep, constructive feedback we need to improve.
Developmental editing provides expert advice, and tells you exactly how to improve your writing skills. It can save years of sifting through different opinions and second-guessing yourself, but it comes at a significant financial cost.
Making the Most of Your Feedback
Unless you’re working with an experienced professional, there are some important things to keep in mind:
Readers probably can’t tell you exactly what is “wrong” with your story—no matter how much they try to convince you otherwise. In fact, it’s often the ones who shout the loudest that have the least to offer.
They definitely can’t explain how to fix things. Even if someone can put their finger on the exact problem, there’s a very low chance they’ll be able to give you the perfect solution. You’ll need to put your detective hat on, learn a lot about the craft of writing, and chart a path forwards yourself.
Triangulating feedback is vital. If one person says something, that’s just their opinion. But if multiple readers all say similar things, that’s a clear sign. Don’t absorb every word. Just look for patterns.
Choose your readers carefully. You’ll likely want to look for other writers who are at a similar (or higher) skill level. People who can give measured, nuanced feedback that makes space for your unique story are like diamonds in the rough.
Fighting Back When Someone Knocks You Down
Whichever path you choose, one thing is almost certain: sooner or later, you’ll meet a teardown artist.
I’m sure you know the guy. The one who turns up with insults, personal attacks, contempt, and lectures about how they would have written it better.
Unfortunately, the writing world is full of them.
These are the people who almost stopped me from writing. The creative writing tutor who sneered at my work and called it “juvenile”. The guy in a writing group who said “this is awful, it reads like a goth girl’s wet dream”.
Their words are still burned into the most vulnerable parts of my psyche, but I kept writing anyway. And in the process, I learned a valuable lesson: those people couldn’t help me, they had absolutely nothing to add to my work.
For criticism to be useful, it has to do two things: see what you’re trying to achieve, and find ways to help you get there.
But teardown artists have no idea what you’re aiming for. It doesn’t even enter their minds. And they certainly can’t help you improve, because they’re only ever interested in one thing: making themselves feel bigger and more important than they actually are.
It’s easy to say, “just ignore them”. That gets a whole lot harder when they target our most vulnerable feelings—the doubts and insecurities we already have in ourselves.
Still, with the benefit of hindsight, here’s what I would have told my younger self:
Accept what you’re feeling
All writers secretly worry that our work is garbage. When we write, we’re sharing something intensely personal, and that’s terrifying. So, when someone beats us down, it confirms every fear we’ve ever had.
But pushing those feelings away will only make them worse.
Instead, close your eyes, breathe, and feel the ache in your body. Is it tight? Heavy? Does it sit in your stomach? Your chest? Explore how it feels, be curious, and for a few moments, just let those feelings exist exactly as they are.
Give yourself time to process
Next, do whatever helps you relax and regain balance. Go for a long walk in Nature. Take a hot bath. Cry on the phone with a friend. Or dump everything into your journal in one long stream of consciousness.
Let your body and mind release some of what they’re holding.
Show compassion to the hurt part of yourself
When someone tears us down, it goes straight to the most fragile and vulnerable parts of ourselves.
Strange as it sounds, we all have dozens of different characters living within us (writers find this easier to grasp than most!) and the wounded part is probably a frightened child who feels they’re not worthy. As though everything they love, and everything they are, is being destroyed.
Picture them, if you can. And offer them the same comfort and safety you’d give to a devastated child who turned up on your doorstep.
It might sound weird, but it works.
Treat the critic with the same disdain they treated you
Once you’re feeling calmer, it’s time to look at the facts: the person who made you feel small is so absorbed in themselves that they’re literally incapable of giving useful feedback.
They secretly fear that everything they’ve ever created is trash, and worse, they’re not as honest about it as you are. Most of them hate themselves. And you don’t want someone like that telling you how to write—not unless you want to become just like them.
You wouldn’t trust someone who stood up in the middle of dinner to give a long lecture about why they’re better than everyone else at the table. For the sake of everything you’ll ever write, you must treat these teardown artists the same way.
Return to your purpose
Whatever got you writing in the first place, find your way back to that.
No one sticks at writing stories (and solicits criticism, and tries to get better) just for laughs. It’s one of the toughest things a person can do, and you’re here for a reason.
For me, it’s the stories themselves.
They feel like they’re bigger than me—something that comes from beyond, and need me to make themselves heard.
Whatever your reasons for writing, remembering that resets your internal compass, and gives you the strength to continue walking your path.
An Invitation
Hopefully this map of the feedback landscape has been helpful!
Whichever path you take, remember that giving and receiving feedback is one of the bravest things a writer can do.
And if you find yourself craving a secret sixth option—something that unites the structure of a workshop, the insight of a writing professional, and the support of a dedicated community—please consider supporting Pagewake with a paid subscription.
Once I reach 30 pledges, I’ll open a dedicated writers’ room in our corner of the speculative fiction writing world.
At the heart of this will be our monthly live workshop, following the same methods I learned at Clarion West. You can submit your own writing for feedback, and we’ll explore your work as a community—understanding where your stories are heading, and developing the tools you need to get there.
Each session will be facilitated by me: focusing on kindness, constructive critique, and honouring your path. And I’ll be sharing the same knowledge and insight I offer my private editing clients.
If that sounds like something you’d like to be part of, I’d be honoured to have you along.
What an empathetic and informative post. I think Im ready to tackle my feedback now, thank you!
Thank you for this; so insightful. And I'm super envious you've met NK Jemisin!