May 10, 2016
As a writing coach, I work with academic writers and see how often they feel isolated. Yet, for a variety of reasons, many of them hold back from asking for feedback on their projects. Some don’t yet have an established network of colleagues to tap. Others fear being scooped or having their ideas stolen. Many simply hesitate to bother busy colleagues with a request for a critique. But I suspect the biggest barrier may be fear of receiving harsh, or just unconstructive, criticism.
Trouble is, if you wait until the peer-review stage to get feedback on a draft, you may miss out on suggestions that could improve your odds of being published. So how should you go about getting truly constructive criticism? Just as there is a craft to writing, there is also a craft to getting useful suggestions for revision. Start by reflecting on what you really want to know about specific aspects of a piece you are developing.
What Kind of Feedback Do You Need?
Have you ever asked a friend to read a draft that you were really excited about, only to receive corrections on your grammar? All of us have gotten feedback that was disappointing or even hurtful. Most readers, I believe, want to help. Here’s the problem: Academics are trained to be critical thinkers but few are trained to be curious. And very few are trained explicitly in the craft of revision and developmental editing. As a result, most academics simply give the same kind of feedback they’ve received.
Academics often rely on the old “sandwich method” to offer a critique: Open by writing something positive, if vague, about the manuscript; then fill the sandwich with a thick critique burger, and top it off with a thin slice of generic encouragement. And, really, what else can they do? Even the best-intentioned peer readers do not know what you want most — unless you tell them. It’s often a relief for readers to be asked to consider a specific question about your writing. It narrows their task.
In short, the first step to getting helpful feedback is to define your reader’s job. For example, are you wondering how you might expand the discussion section of your draft? Are you uncertain whetherits current organization logically supports your thesis? Are you thinking you need more context to set up your argument? Do you suspect a certain point needs further explication?
What Stage of the Writing Process Are You In?
Next, give your readers a sense of where you are in the writing process. If you’re at an early stage, for example, you may need suggestions for additional literature to ground your argument. Providing context about your process also opens the door to communicating what kinds of feedback you don’t want. If you’re still developing your argument, refining your prose is not likely your top priority. Letting your readers know what you are not interested in at this moment lets them off the hook in a way. It simplifies their task. More important, it saves them time, which allows them to better focus on the issues you are most concerned about.
If you have many concerns, no single reader is likely to be able to address them all. Plus, that kind of full-scale engagement could overburden one reader.
You may have noticed that I’ve been using the plural form — “readers.” The second step to getting helpful feedback is matching your questions about your writing to the strengths of several peer readers. It makes sense to develop a small network of readers to call on at different stages in your writing process.
Who Are Potentially Helpful Readers?
Think of your friends from graduate school and colleagues at your own institution. Whose writing do you admire and why? Who has published in the journals where you would like to place your own articles? Who has relationships with a university press that may be a good fit for your own book?
Cast a broad net as you consider people to approach for feedback. Colleagues within your own discipline may have a good grasp of your field’s expectations and conventions, but they are likely to bring their own scholarly agendas to reading your work. So think also of people you’ve made connections with who work in different, but somewhat related, disciplines. For example, if you’re a literary critic, getting feedback from a historian, a theologian, or an anthropologist could help you see your work with a wider lens and understand how to better convey what’s really significant about it.
Consider also people you would like to get to know better — and whose drafts you might enjoy reading because, of course, you have to be willing to return the favor. This relationship is reciprocal but it won’t be too burdensome if you set boundaries around your requests for feedback. Reciprocity can also build trust and a sense of solidarity in the struggle to write. It takes time to develop even a small network of peer readers. But investing in these relationships can help you leave that sense of isolation behind.
Your peers face the same kinds of deadlines and dilemmas as you do. Developing a small group of people to tap for feedback on writing questions can provide you with a much more concrete sense of how actual readers will respond to your work. That knowledge may enable you to deal with potential problems before you submit and increase your chances of getting to the peer-review stage and published.
Amy Benson Brown
is a writing coach who works with faculty authors through Academic Coaching & Writing.
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