How to Take Feedback

No matter the art form or project, getting feedback on your works-in-progress is both essential and really fucking tough. Good feedback will strengthen the work. Bad feedback can derail you and shake your confidence. In fiction we call our early readers "betas". Here's what I think about when getting feedback from my betas. 

Expertise: Some betas are editors or agents. Others are friends or fellow authors. The former should be giving feedback that is coming from a knowledge of craft or the marketplace. The latter will likely be going with their feelings and taste. Both are good, but just know that a friend who tells you "you need to do more research" might actually be saying "because I personally prefer books that are heavily researched" not "research will strengthen your concept and help this book be an even better version of itself."
Emotion: Getting feedback from anyone at any stage is hard. Your first reaction will likely be defensive ("Screw you, I'm perfect!") or defeatist ("I'm screwed, I suck".) Both are understandable. Neither are helpful. It's okay to take the time you need to let the new brief you're essentially getting to sink in. Remember: asking for feedback and then acting on it is part of the process. Work rewrites into your schedule. 
Could be/should be: The work could be anything. It should be a much smaller number of things. Sure, your heroine could fall in love with a woman or quit her job to travel the world. But she should be narrating a story that is captivating/authentic/well told (or whatever you're aiming for). When getting feedback, I try to listen for what sounds like something I really should be doing, because it will make the book better, even if it's a lot of work, vs ideas I could do--they're not bad ideas, but really, they're just different storylines--and they don't really serve this unique story well. 

Go with your gut. Be honest with yourself. Don't be lazy. Do the work. 

The Regulars is coming atcha in audio!

The Regulars and my forthcoming novel The Bucket List are both going to be audio books! I’ve been saving this announcement for my esteemed mailing list so you’re the first to hear it. The audio rights can be bought and sold like the foreign rights, so there’s no guarantee a novel becomes an audio book. We didn’t get any bites around pub, but the company BrillianceAudio bought the rights in a 2-book deal earlier this month. I just filled out the casting questionnaire, listing details such as all the accents the actor will have to do—British, Dutch and Australian. Can’t wait to hear that Aussie accent in my earbuds! I listen to audiobooks that I borrow from Brooklyn Library: just a reminder your local library has audio, e-, and regular books and is free to join!

Five ways I maintain belief in myself and my work

 

The Bucket List is my fourth novel. Some aspects of being a novelist do get easier: I work faster, feel confident attempting more ambitious plots, and I’m less in the dark about the business/marketing/publicity side of things. But some things feel harder, especially as my personal goalposts keep shifting. Even on not-so-great days, I work to maintain a real sense of faith in myself: here's how.
 
1. Focus on what it is, not what it isn’t: The deeper you dive into your chosen artform, the more you educate yourself about the different styles, genres, and voices within it. It’s easy to feel sad or insecure about what you’re not because no single artist can be everything to everyone. I try to stay focused on what I am as a writer: contemporary, funny, feminist, fast-paced. There’s many things I’m not, and that’s okay. You can still enjoy what you’re not as an audience member. You don’t need to do it for it to enrich your life.
 
2. Roll with rejection: This morning I received my 6th rejection for a writing residency in 2017. I haven’t gotten into any this year. The more rejection I get, the less it bothers me. I don’t need to do residencies to work: very little outside yourself is truly essential to the creation of work (even a publisher is not essential to the actual creation: trust me, I’ve written two books that didn’t sell). When it comes to rejection, practice the ancient mantra: Give zero f*cks.
 
3. Find a way to live with your fears: Currently, mine is acknowledgement, not space. I hear the nervous, negative chatter, and I say “Fine, I hear you, in some ways I agree but I JUST DON’T HAVE TIME FOR YOU.” I have to crank out thousands of words a month, I don’t have to time to sit and worry. Find a way that works for you, remembering the end goal is producing work.
 
4. Speak lovingly about the work: A true sense of faith comes from within, but it is kept alive by your micro and macro community. Even if you’re unproduced/unpublished, speak lovingly and with excitement about your work. You’ll build a solid support system. If you’re having a bad day/s, wait until you feel more positive rather than trashing yourself and your work. It’s off-putting and damaging to your end goal. Therapy can help you work through self-doubt.
 
5. Stay connected. We say wedding vows to establish guidelines for the successful longevity of a relationship. Remind yourself regularly why you’re doing what you’re doing. And it does not need to be 100% altruistic: it’s better if it’s not. To paraphrase Liz Gilbert, create for your needs not the perceived needs of those around you. I need entertaining, emotional, intelligent stories about young women, that’s why I create them. It’s easy to get bogged down in the muck of self-doubt, fear, compare-and-despair syndrome: stay connected to the why, and see the big picture.
 

I sold my next book!

I done did it, Ma! Coming to a bookstore near you in 2018 will be The Bucket List. It's about a young woman, Lacey Whitman, who is single and works as a trend forecaster in NYC. Right off the bat, Lacey is diagnosed with the BRCA1 gene mutation, which puts her at an 87% lifetime risk of developing hereditary breast cancer. Lacey, a self-made gal with a cracking sense of humor, elects for a preventative mastectomy and breast reconstruction to all but eliminate this risk: but before that, she creates a “boob bucket list”: all the things she wants to do with and for her beautiful tatas. Her adventurous year changes everything in her life—love, friendship, career—as she grapples with the questions of true self-knowledge, destiny, identity, and, of course, sex.
 
I’m excited to write this book to explore the very real choice an increasing number of young women who are at risk for breast cancer make, as well as diving into the murky arena of female sexuality. My feeling is many women my age are sexually experienced, but perhaps not sensually experienced. We know how to please others, but when thinking about what turns us on, really, it’s way more complicated. The challenge of this book will be balancing gravitas with humor; pathos with wit. First draft is due to my freelance editor, Sarah, end of June. That’s 16K good clean words a month, minimum. Stay with me as I start making things up for your reading pleasure!

How to research for fiction

My next book is a young woman who is diagnosed with a mutated gene, BRCA1, which puts her an elevated risk of breast cancer. I do not have the BRCA1 gene, nor do I have a family history of cancer. Am I nervous about writing about something I haven't lived? Heck yes I am! But I'm a storyteller. I feel confident in my ability to learn about new worlds and bring them to life, with the magical power of research...

Books on your subject are great (and I’ve read perhaps a dozen books relating to BRCA) but finding IRL subjects is essential. Not only can you find out what you need, but these subjects can help you navigate this new space and advocate for you in a world where you are just a tourist.
 
1:  Finding your subjects
So far I’ve interviewed women with breast cancer, women with the BRCA gene who have undergone mastectomies, a plastic surgeon, a genetic counselor, at-risk cancer advocates, as well as various trend forecasters. Most of these interviews happened over Skype (I’ve set up an in-person meeting at a cancer care center that was super hard to get but absolutely essential). To find these subjects, I focused on existing communities like F.O.R.C.E (Facing Our Risk Of Cancer Empowered) and Bright Pink, by posting on their forums and emailing staffers directly.
 
2: Reaching out
When it comes to research for a novel, people are more likely to want to help than you think they are. People like talking about themselves or their specialities, and most people want to be nice, and help an author out. They don’t want you to waste their time or generally be a ding-dong, and the best way to assure them that you're a norm is in your communication. My requests take the form of:

• an introduction, including credentials
• the request (a phone interview)
• my reason for the project 

All of this is short, polite, grammatically correct, with relevant links so they can see I’m legit.
 
3: Doing the interview
I start by explaining the project and the part of it I need their expertise in. Sometimes I have questions written down but so much of my work and what I need is just in my brain so I usually don't need to. You’re going to be searching for technical details (facts/processes) or emotional details (how did things make someone feel? What was the hardest/weirdest part?). My project involves asking very personal details, like things to do with sex. Usually I just go for it: I’m just pretty straightforward and down to earth about it. Interviewees respond in kind. Never run long. If you need more time, see if you can schedule a follow-up.
 
4: Staying in touch
You can get a sense pretty quickly about who is really into your project: make sure you keep the door open. Right now, almost all of my subjects are down to read the sections of the book I needed them for, and that is invaluable. If you’re writing about a world you’re not in, it MUST pass the smell test of those who do. If it does, they’re more likely to recommend it to their community and you won’t piss anybody off.
 
Overall, research is easier than you think it is, and it’s really fun! I know all this stuff about breast cancer and the cancer community I didn’t know before, which is a true privilege. Don’t let a lack of knowledge you scare off a subject. Life is for the learning! 

How to get and what to do at artist residencies

I spent the first two weeks of December at Ragdale, a renowned artist residency in Lake Forest, Illinois. If you're an artist or writer, treat yo' self with a residency. You don't just get to travel somewhere cool and meet other artists (like the artist Anne Kingsbury, who I shared a bathroom with), there’s no better way to get your sh*t DONE. Residencies take a mix of experienced and emerging artists, so no matter your experience level, YOU can get into one! 

WHAT HAPPENS THERE

 At a typical artists’ residency, your time is your own. There’s no check-ins, workshops, meetings, or final report: you are only accountable to yourself. Sometimes there's an informal reading night or open studio. Sometimes the group bonds and spends a lot of time together, sometimes everyone’s working hard and only coming together occasionally. It’s a good idea not to invest too heavily in the prospect of a highly social residency as you can’t control that: what you can control is the work you get done. 

HOW TO APPLY

Search for residencies based on location, type, cost (etc) on sites such as Res Artis, PW, and Artist Community. There’s a pecking order: the ones that are free and feed you are the hardest to get into, rolling down to the ones where you cover all your own costs, including food. Residencies like big dogs MacDowell, Yaddo, Hedgebrook, U-cross, Millay are highly competitive—I’ve applied to all of these and not gotten in. Applying for one residency isn’t really worth the time putting the application together: apply for ten and you might get into one.
 
Be as human and engaging in your project pitch as possible: explain why the work matters to you and what you’re about, really. Don’t be too formal. You’re usually applying months in advance and TBH, I’ve never applied with the project I actually do at the residency. I apply with my newest, unpublished work that is the strongest representation of me, right now.
 
Try not to let your inevitable residency rejections get you down (I have dozens). Directors aren’t looking to disclude you, they’re just looking to include other people. Rejections are part of an artistic life: consider each one a sign that you're committed and know that you won't give up. 

WHAT TO DO THERE

 Residencies are amazing because you have nothing but time and no distractions. That’s what can also makes them extremely challenging, soul-searching experiences. 

At a residency in rural Portugal, I made the mistake of assuming I was there to polish what I thought was an almost-completed novel, only to hear back from my editor on Day 1 that is was an “okay” first draft. I wasn’t prepared for that and spent a lot of time crying into large glasses of admittedly excellent port. Being an artist of any kind requires discipline, especially when it comes to your mental health. A small melt-down about the validity of your work is all but standard; it just can’t poison or halt your creativity.

At Ragdale, I planned and executed the completion of my fourth novel’s outline. To prepare, I’d done 1 – 2 months of research, note-taking and brainstorming. I bought index cards, some butcher’s paper, and a few other tools. The hardest part of any project is starting. So I always just start. It doesn't matter if it's bad! You can fix bad work, you can't fix no work. Also, I mentally committed to the work before I came. For me, this is essential. Knowing that I am working tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that helps make writing into my job, rather than a fun thing I won’t do if it's not fun (which it often isn’t).
 
An outline the way I do them is a big task, and it took me 12 straight days of work to pull something together that’s good enough to get feedback on. I worked in the day and at night I watched The O.C on Hulu, drank a little wine, and only come back to the project if I got a good idea. Yes, I had a little meltdown, but I managed it (the key was adding a villain: ah! the power of the villain!), and finished. I am a finisher. They’ll put it on my gravestone: Here lies Georgia. Yet again, she finished. Choose to be a finisher. 

TIPS 'N' TRICKS!

• Exercise daily. I always sleep badly at residencies because the mind is over stimulated and the body is under stimulated. I try to do a daily yoga practice and/or walk, and I bring a fun array of powerful sleep aids.
• Resist the urge to judge other peoples’ over or underachievement.Some people come to residencies to relax, ideate, talk long walks and chat in the kitchen. Others will finish a whole damn book. Who cares? Do you.
• Avoid self-destructive impulses. These include drinking too much, indulging in distractions or deciding you are terrible and everything you do is dumb. It’s worth repeating that if you want to be an artist, you need to manage your inner critic: this is not optional, it is part of the job.

While residencies are great, they’re not the only way to work. Most professional writers write at home, at their studio, in cafés, cars, bars etc. It can be tempting to decide you can ONLY do your project at a residency, because then if you don’t get in, you don't have to do it. Set a goal—two application periods a year—but plan to create your work regardless of the outcome.