RTW: What Kind of Coach…?
It’s Wednesday, and you know what that means here on the blog… Road Trip Wednesday! RTW is a weekly “Blog Carnival” (but without the flashy costumes… though if you want to read this with a flashy costume, I can’t stop you) where someone over at YA Highway posts a question, and invites people from all over the blogisphere to answer the question on their blogs. We all then post a link to our blog on the YA Highway blog, and everyone checks out the various answers. It’s all good fun in a get-to-know-you and get-some-cool-ideas and be-provoked-to-thinking kind of way.
Today’s RTW question is this: What kind of writing coach do you need? When you have to coach friends, what kind of coach are you? My initial response was, “big and soft, with a built in foot-rest, like a La-Z-boy…” then I realized it said coAch, and not coUch… so I had to re-think. YA Highway has given us some help by means of a link to an article by Sarah Enni about writing mentors. In that article, Sarah gives a range of types: the positive feedback coach (like Mr. Rogers), the gentle honesty coach (like Tim Gunn from Project Runway), the brutal honesty coach (like Jillian Michaels on The Biggest Loser), or the tear-you-down-to-build-you-up coach (like Amy Chua, The Tiger Mom).
I have a fairly thick skin. Not infallibly thick, but I can take criticism without crying or throwing a tantrum. Of course, no-one really likes to be critiqued. Everyone wants a Mr. Rogers telling them how wonderful and special they are. Perhaps, as writers, there are some things we’ve written that frankly we don’t care what anyone else thinks of them: we love them and, as far as we’re concerned, they’re perfect just the way they are. But those aren’t projects we plan to get published. I hope not, anyway. But the majority of our projects, as writers, are ones we plan to share with the rest of the world. As such we need these works to shine, to show our writing chops at their best, and be the best stories they can be. This takes objective criticism, edits, smoothing of edges, sharpening of words, stuff that we writers don’t always see “from the inside.” We need someone who will tell us when our writing sucks like a black hole, and who will tell us when something’s good–and we believe them because they don’t always tell us it’s good.
So, the kind of writing coach I need is the Simon Cowell. Yup, you heard right–and it’s not because he’s a fellow Brit. Why did people have a love-hate relationship with Simon Cowell when he was on American Idol? They hated him because he spoke his mind with blunt honesty. If a person’s singing was terrible, he wouldn’t say “Hmmm, I think you were a bit pitchy in parts.” He would say, “That was dreadful! My cat sings better than that!” And yet they loved him because he always spoke his mind, and so when he gave praise it was truly inspiring and motivating–because he never gave praise lightly. The time he gave Adam Lambert a standing ovation was probably, I daresay, one of the best moments in that young singer’s life. Cowell was never mean for the sake of being mean, either. At least for those singers who were sincere about their singing, his critiques were always meant to help them realize what they were doing wrong, and encourage them to do better next time. Sometimes the thing they were doing wrong was imagining they could sing in the first place–and he would tell them so.
As a writer, I want the kind of coach who will prevent me from embarrassing myself in front of an agent, an editor, the entire reading public. The kind of coach who will tell me when my writing’s off, or something’s not working–even if s/he doesn’t know exactly why. Someone who will tell me if the whole novel is bad and I should start over. Because that’s the kind of coach I can trust when they tell me something’s good, something works, or “this is a novel I would buy.” And, if I’m ever asked to be someone’s writing coach, that’s the kind of coach I hope I will be. So be warned!
How about you? How would you answer this question? Use the comments to answer, or participate in RTW by answering on your blog and posting a link in the comments on YA Highway.
Hey, I chose a Brit with a softer side π I like your comment about someone who will keep you from embarrassing yourself. That’s a good way to look at it!
I agree–writing partners should keep us from sending in crap work to agents. I’d rather hear honest criticism then than from an agent when he or she is rejecting me. That said, I don’t need someone to be mean for the sake of being me, which is how Simon can come off sometimes. But then again, I’m not an avid Idol watcher so maybe I’m missing something in his coaching.
There were times when Cowell’s critiques were a little too personal, and he certainly crossed the line more than once. I can do without that. But his general approach is one I can appreciate.
Ha! “coAch, and not coUch”! I respect Cowell’s evaluations, and indeed, would prefer his (private) critique over certain other judges who do little more than ooze gratitude.
I think I prefer the Randy Jackson type over the Simon Cowell. I don’t want somebody to be insulting, just honest. I always want to know what isn’t working, but if they say it in a politer way “that was a bit pitchy, Dog”, I’m cool with that. Still I agree that praise should be earned. I don’t want people to tell me something is good when even I know it sucks (which is why I asked for feedback in the first place). That just makes me assume the person praising me has bad taste.
“As a writer, I want the kind of coach who will prevent me from embarrassing myself in front of an agent, an editor, the entire reading public.”
So true! And I love that when Simon gives praise, you know it’s earned, because he doles it out so sparingly. I have a professor like that. When she says something is lovely, I feel like a million bucks, because she’ll say that once every semester or so.
While I agree that I would want someone who could keep me from embarrassing myself in front of potential agents or editors, I think Simon Cowell would make me cry. I don’t need someone to be precious about things, but Simon seemed mean-spirited to me. I’m not sure if he was like that all the time, but any time I flicked past Idol I noticed he was dashing dreams left and right.
The main thing I take issue with is that I would never want someone to tell me I shouldn’t be a writer. Maybe I’m naive, but I think everyone can improve with enough encouragement and dedication to the craft–whether that’s writing or singing…
Which is why Cowell didn’t appeal to everyone. Fair enough. Personally, I appreciate his kind of “tough love” approach. Like I said above, there were times he crossed the line, but when he told people they couldn’t sing, I honestly believe it wasn’t out of a malicious desire to see them crushed, but because he sincerely believed they didn’t have what it took in terms of talent to make a career out of singing, and they would be happier doing something else.
One of the things I always tell my beta readers/CPs is not to be afraid to tell me if they don’t think my writing is any good. I love writing, and I’d probably still write even if no-one was reading. But the best writers have more than just the ability to string correctly-spelled words together with syntactical correctness. This you can learn. But to be a professional writer takes a certain amount of natural ability too. And the writer is not always the person to see whether or not s/he has it. If I don’t, I’d like to know ASAP, please–no matter how much it might hurt. But that’s me. π
I agree, bring on the Simon’s of the writing world…only don’t have him read my crits out loud on television π
I agree. I loved Simon Cowell for his honestly, even if it seemed mean-spirited at times. He was so often the voice to what I was thinking in my head. When he gave praise, it felt golden because it was less common. When he critiqued, he often gave a good reason for his thoughts even when they were unpopular with the audience. Great idea for a coach!
Simon would be a really great writing coach. He’s so brutally honest. I’d need to have pretty thick skin to have Simon as a writing coach.
You’re right, we wouldn’t be a good CP match. Haha! I appreciate brutal honesty, and I totally get what you mean about not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of agents. I guess I need the same information, just presented in a different way. More like, it will be ready for agents if you change/fix/cut x, y, and z…because a, b, and c are already awesome. (Hopefully they have SOMETHING nice to say!)
You’re so right about the praise meaning more when it comes from someone as honest as Simon Cowell. You never want to be double-guessing your beta reader’s feedback because they are always so nice. There’s no benefit to that critique,
And come to think of it, “what is your ideal couch” SHOULD be a RTW question!!
I love your point about coaches being honest in order to save writers from self-delusion and embarrassment down the line. I don’t think I could handle Simon Cowell’s public criticism — ok, fine, even his private criticism might be too harsh for me right now — but your choice definitely makes sense.
LOVE your choice for a model mentor! I think I need someone a little less brutal, but my skin might be tough enough for him. And he’s funny too.
Hi there colin,
Great blog post π It’s a shame you miss bonfire nights now you are in the USA, it sounds like you hold some great memories. If I have a sparkler handy I will light one for you with pleasure.