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Mom says that she would love such a conversation; however, she feels that you are already far more educated on the topic than she is. The ACW is the topic that interests her most in history, but as a full-time mom, and then a full-time employee, she's never had the opportunity to pursue it as she'd have enjoyed. She's instead followed threads that intrigued her throughout the years. For example, she is fascinated by Lincoln, so when a spare minute appeared and a book on him was at the elbow, she read it. She got her ACW info that way, too -- in bits and pieces as they made themselves available at her elbow. The battles she's explored involve the ones that affected our own family. When she unearths in her occasional genealogical research that so-and-so was at Antietam, she yearns to see Antietam and to read about that battle, because she knows someone in her own line was there. Then she sees it through his eyes -- experiences it with a personal touch.

She says that she would likely do a great deal more listening in such a conversation, than talking, as you likely have a bevy of information on the war she's never heard about, and that she'd love to read any novel you wrote on the topic.

{I have read her a few of your stories over the years. She feels you have a great talent.}

You're welcome! I hope you like it. I'm due for a rewatch.

{You should write an ACW novel...}

I have Alison Weir's Katherine of Aragon: The True Queen waiting for me at the library this afternoon. I am excited! <3

Dear new authors: PLEASE BE ADVISED.

People are rude. There are many people out there who see no reason to bother with courtesy. You're going to meet those people here. They are going to review you for quick points and say nothing of value. They are going to review you more sincerely but be too busy for courtesy. They are going to be arrogant and have nothing to offer but proof of that fact. They are going to read out of their genre and offer extremely faulty suggestions that make no sense.

The onus is on you to make something of all that.

I realize this is QUITE DIFFICULT for new writers. If you're new, you're probably filled with self-doubt. That's a good thing, as the alternative is to be filled with egotism -- a far worse affliction.

You're going to have to learn how to tell the difference between healthy feedback and unhealthy feedback. There's a big difference, and there's no self-help manual here in the archives to help you out.

Welcome to Writing 101. The things people say to you in reviews here may confuse and perplex you. Even the friendly reviews will offer conflicting suggestions. Be proactive. Figure it out.

Take the hits, and learn how to write. Because there's going to be rudeness EVERYWHERE. Amazon reviewers? Not known for their courtesy. Agents don't have time to explain why they rejected your novel. Pulitzer winners get grilled. No one cares that it took you ten years to write your book, or that it was inspired by personal trials, or that you think your use of adjectives is unique and daring, or that you named all of your characters after your favorite pets.

People are going to be tough. They are going to read your book through their own filters. They are going to hate it, or they are going to love it.

Know who you are. Be stronger than all that, because it's going to get worse.

You have to believe in your ability as an author -- more than anyone. WHICH IS A SLIPPERY SLOPE because you don't want to love your work so much you fail to hear tough advice like "your writing stinks" when that's the best advice you could hear. But you also don't want to be so hesitant about your work that you listen to all the conflicting feedback and lose yourself. Because the feedback is going to be conflicting. Remarkably conflicting. One man's gold is another man's coal.

Somewhere in there you must locate the startling truth that is your very own to share, and get it on the page, and realize that it is destined to be wholly imperfect, as you are, and make a decision about what you want it to say and learn as well as you can how you want to say it, and end the day pleased with yourself for somehow finding the ability in this completely disorienting world to try. And you have to know when to let it go. It will never be perfect.

Have enough respect for your work that you are willing to listen to feedback, but never lose sight of yourself or your vision. Learn how to distinguish what helps your work, and what harms it.

If a John Hamler comes along and tells you that you stink, don't assume he's just being rude. You might stink! No shame in it -- we're all learning. BUT, if he offers you absolutely no justification for his remark, and you can't find a way to seek clarity from others on the topic, go to bed at night without troubling yourself over the fact. The realization that you will stink now and then is not an obstacle. Losing your nerve because someone tells you that you stink without telling you why is far worse. Tossing and turning and wallowing in self-doubt is not writing. Approaching your work honestly and doing what you can with your talent is writing. If the advice you receive accomplishes nothing but crippling self-doubt, you may officially discard it. It has not helped.

{Not to worry! If you stink, there's someone out there who will tell you why.}

Now, if a John Hamler comes along and says, "Gent, your work stinks. Here's the issue," you may have something. This John Hamler may be abrupt and disinclined to take the time to be courteous, but if he can pinpoint what it is about your work that isn't working, LISTEN TO HIM. He has given you something solid to think about. Specifics is what you want. As you grow as a writer, you'll learn to distinguish between helpful specifics and harmful specifics, but for now, you have something specific. You can build on that.

Remember you don't know John Hamler from anyone, so don't give his feedback too much credence. Just take it in, as a means to learn. See it as perspective, not fact. Remember he can probably see a lot in your work you cannot see, because he didn't write it. That's what you want -- responses beyond yourself. Later you can determine whether or not his is helpful. Don't hear it with your heart. Hear it objectively. He has nothing personal against you. He's responding to what you've put on the page.

Be thankful for the John Hamlers who will give it to you straight, because the world is not only remarkably rude, it is astonishingly disingenuous. Courtesy is mighty fine, but truth is finer. You don't want your hand held; you want facts. Take that however they serve it. It's rarer to be honest than to be nice.

Some people have nothing to offer in a review and have no idea what you are trying to say when you write and will lack the talent to realize their opinion is not objective analysis. Some people will have incredible insight and lack the ability to present it gently. There's a difference.

When you are a new writer, you likely have no barometer to distinguish between the useful writing advice and the poisonous kind. That's on you to cure. Do independent research, read ravenously, write, write, write, and don't take things to heart if they seem adverse to common sense. You will learn as you experience -- and that's what the rude reviewers can offer you -- abundant experience. It's going to sting at first. Figure it out.

Don't wait around for the world to suddenly become polite for you and your book. It's not going to happen. Hike up your breeches and take it on the chin. Learn what you can, and don't stay up all night puzzling over stupidity. If you melt every time someone is an idiot, you're not going to make it out the door. Figure out how to hear your own perspective without losing the ability to listen. It's a tough world out there. Be the rare jewel. If you can't change the world, learn how to live in it. Let it make you better. That's my advice for life.

{I'm half writing this for myself. Mean reviews bring me down, down, down. And I found them extremely confusing as a new writer. I think you have to experience that to grow as a writer, though, because the truth is, when others look at your work -- they throw it into relief. You see your own work with more clarity because your vision is juxtaposed with theirs. So your awareness of your own work, your own style, your own voice, and your own distinct strengths and weaknesses grows. You realize what it is that makes you stand out. Some of the things people try to filter out of your work here are the human imperfections that make it yours. When you can figure that out, you have grown. But that's a whole other story.}

To conclude, even rude reviewers have something to offer! They toughen you up. So shake hands all around, folks. We have them aplenty here.

serpentine

I just finished this one. I thought it was extremely good -- especially the final pages! I appreciate that Weir works so closely with historical documents to try to bring history to life. I'll definitely read more by her!

I'm taking my Gone with the Wind reread slowly: Scarlett is just entering Atlanta for the first time.

One guy a few years ago popped onto one of my poems here and offered nothing at all except the remark that my poem was pretentious: "Affected. Showy. Attempting to imply greater importance or talent than is possessed." Apparently.

I wish I had the poem because I think now I'd look at it and maybe see what he meant. At the time I was confused because "pretentious" is such a judgment word -- as in, pretentious where? What do you mean? It sounded like something you say to someone who not only knows what they're doing, but thinks they're the best. I didn't know what I was doing? I was out there learning, and one must blot the page before she learns how to paint. I think the poem he called pretentious was my tenth attempt at a poem ever. My prior attempts were even worse: not poetry at all! Just emotional outpourings. I felt this one was at least nudging toward a more universal theme. It probably was pretentious? That's a beginning! I'd rather have a pretentious poem than a blank page. But pretentious in what sense, sir? He didn't pull out a single line from the poem to illustrate his point or describe the effect on the reader. He just passed judgment and moved on, as if we both agreed that the posting was my final product and that I was merely collecting votes.

I could take a blunt critique. A couple months before, my creative writing prof had asked me to attend a writing seminar and share a poem I'd recently written. I don't know how I got on that list, not being a poet at all, but she had liked something I'd submitted, and was confident it would be well-received at the seminar. The seminar involved a few of my fellow students posting their undergrad work on an overhead screen for all to read, and having a guest speaker {professional poet} assess the work for those present as a means to learn.  My writing professor felt certain he'd like my effort. He did not!

When my poem came up on the overhead, I was called to the front and stood by the overhead screen a little nervous but fairly confident. As he read the opening lines, he writhed and scowled and wriggled in his seat and burst out with, "Ah, uh, no! NO, NO, NO." {I assume he was not privy to reading my poor, raggedy attempt before this moment.} Then he publicly decimated my work, line by line, punctuating every remark with NO, UH, NO, NO, NO as he told me over the course of several minutes why this horrific poem was in fact the worst attempt at poetry he had ever read.

Everyone else was embarrassed for me, but I believe I stood beside the overhead screen the whole time with my eyes on him, grinning ear to ear. I signed up for his class the following semester, and exhausted myself writing MANY POEMS based on his daily prompts.

The poem I posted here at TNBW that day was for his class. It was written in about an hour because we were writing two or three poems a night. Was it pretentious? Well, not purposefully, but it was certainly fumbling and out of my element. {I am not a poet. I like writing stories. The poems I write are exercises intended to help strengthen my narrative writing, and like I said, I think that poem was my tenth attempt.} So the reviewer's assessment probably wasn't off. But he didn't CRITIQUE my work; he judged it. Big difference.

Any Jim off the street can reduce ten hours {days, months, years} of a writer's hard work to the comparatively pint-sized remark "this is pretentious." It takes an experienced reader to explain why it reads that way. And honestly, if a person reviews you without offering analysis, unless they make some pretty good sense, it's probably best to toss the remarks. They may have no idea what they're talking about. Don't toss a great negative analysis. Those are absolutely priceless. But toss the ones that come without any back-up, because those are likely just opinions. If they can't even say why they think what they think, what possible relevance can their opinion have?

I don't like scrambled eggs. That's an opinion. I don't like the way you make scrambled eggs. That's an opinion. I like the way you make scrambled eggs, and also I like scrambled eggs. OPINIONS. I don't like the way you make scrambled eggs, because you put too much salt in them, and this overwhelms the flavor of the egg. If you would only add a sprinkle of salt, you'd find that the flavor of the egg is enhanced rather than smothered. This would improve the flavor of the egg immensely. Analysis.

"This poem is pretentious." Opinion. "This poem makes no sense to me, therefore I can only assume it is pretentious." Opinion. {Stupid one.} "This poem is written so distantly I feel alienated from it as a reader. For example, the line ______ accomplishes nothing. It's as if you're trying to list lofty ideas but you lack the talent / experience to tie them together into a unifying point. That's probably why it feels pretentious to me. It's as if you're not thinking of the reader at all. You're just trying to say things poets say, and you don't really know why you're saying them. Poetry isn't lofty ideas listed in a pretty way. Poetry says something impactful. You haven't said anything here. Figure out what you want to say." Analysis. Tough analysis, but valuable analysis.

"This poem is pretentious, and I'm going to tell you why. You are writing down to your readers. Take the following line, for example. It is _____. This leaves your reader feeling alienated and removed from the poem's point. If you rewrite it as follows, you will see that the exact same message comes across, but now you are not pushing the reader away. You are inviting him or her in." To which I might have replied, "That is helpful! However, my purpose was to distance the reader. Not to be pretentious, but because the theme is _____ and I thought that theme might be amplified by the actual distancing experience created by the way I constructed that line. I was experimenting. I believe this is only my tenth poem in my entire life." To which he might have replied, "I see! So I reacted emotionally to your poem and was disgusted, and that feeling is what you wanted, but I didn't take it far enough to reflect. I wonder if adding a line here might push the reader closer to where you want him or her to go." To which I might reply, "I like that suggestion! Thank you. I couldn't see it until you pointed it out, but I can see now I hadn't taken it far enough."

Conversation!! <3 Two people learn a little together as writers, and the work is valuably assessed and improved, not because the writer auto-edited based on a nameless reviewers' opinions, but because the writer was pushed out of her perspective a little, and so was the reviewer, as they each tried to pinpoint what the work was trying to say, and why it missed.

Marilyn, it sounds like the people you're talking about above are out offering opinions laced with arrogance, rather than analysis. That's a real shame. Reviewing is valuable exercise that potentially benefits both the writer and the reviewer. I would hope new writers here see this thread and learn to sift the useless remarks from the helpful criticism. Arrogance has no place in creative work, and unfortunately on a site like this, arrogance can be found amongst both the writers and the reviewers. When you find a strong writer able to listen, and a strong reviewer able to analyze, that's the magic. It's of enormous importance that new writers learn to sift the opinions from useful analysis.

Nice job everyone!

That's a lovely story.

I wonder if they have some kind of screening software that scans for key words. Example: "sparkly vampires." They know they don't want books about that, so they auto-reject any emails/queries containing the words "sparkly vampires."

{I'm not implying you wrote about sparkly vampires.}

Maybe you wrote on a topic that doesn't interest them for some reason, & the auto-scanner caught it.

That is beautiful!! Now I must move to England.