Why You Need a Critique

 Today, I'm starting a series of blogs on critiquing.

Why do you need a critique?

Another pair of eyes spots problems.

Grammar and spelling problems are easily avoided.

Clarity problems -- Does a phrase or an event not make sense to another person?

Someone else can see the diseased tree when you only see the forest.

If you want only praise, let your mother or your best friend read your book. If you want honesty, get a good critique partner.

Critiquing someone else's work is good for your writing. By learning to spot others' weaknesses, you can more easily spot your own.

Explaining writing problems helps you understand them.

Pushing Humor Too Far

 The mystery series was a cozy with a light tone and humorous moments, but the third book in the series started with the murder of the heroine’s closest friend and moved through the next days with sleuthing as well as the process of grieving for and burying someone you love.

I imagine most would agree that this situation is not a comedy waiting to happen.  Unfortunately, the writer was so desperate to bring the light tone in that she proceeded to add slapstick.  

At the family visitation, one of the heroine’s friends pretends to knee the heroine’s boyfriend, her heel breaks, and she really kicks him in the jewels.

The heroine receives a threatening phone call, then her bedroom door knob jiggles.  She slips as she reaches for a Taser and bangs her head, then, before she realizes it’s a cop friend, she shoots him as he enters her room and he slips banging his head.  They end up concussed together on the bed where her friend discovers them the next morning and has a fun time wondering what went on between the not-a-couple.

I could only shake my head during these scenes that so desperately tried to add humor to a situation that wasn’t funny.  Not only was the over-the-top-to-the-point-of-ridiculous humor displaced, it tried so hard that the book fell apart.  

Moments like this are what trusted critique partners, beta readers, and good editors are all about.  They should have told the writer that sometimes a light tone just doesn’t fit the situation, and that poor taste and slapstick have no place in certain situations.  

How can you judge this with your own writing?  Think of your novel as a movie.  If you are writing a mystery movie full of dark atmosphere and duplicitous suspects, a scene from DUMB AND DUMBER just won’t  fit, will it?  A light moment of character revelation or a funny story about a victim would.  

Stay true to the tone that’s needed and listen to your early readers.  That’s more important than trying to maintain the tone of the series.  If not staying true bothers you, then find another plot that will fit that tone. 

Writing Witty Dialogue

Witty dialogue is found in most Regency romances, and the comedies of Shakespeare are rife with word plays and banter between clever characters, but it also has a place in other writing.

Put two clever characters with a sense of fun together and let them at each other so they duel with words, and the reader is in for a treat that requires as much attention to the word play as the characters must pay.

This is from an unpublished contemporary novel.

"You have the tail of an ass," Ariel said. 

David raised one eyebrow haughtily. "Women have told me I have a nice ass, but not one has mentioned a tail." 

"They told tales." 

"I am happy you are named for the sprite Ariel and not Puck. I could wake up with the head of an ass." 

“Don't toss Shakespeare at me, amateur, or speak of Bottom. Why change your head into an ass? It would be redundant since you act like one already." 

Witty dialogue, particularly in a romance, is emotional and personal foreplay.  It reinforces a sense that these people “get” each other and are equals emotionally and intellectually.  

Outside of romance, the most surprising and common use of witty dialogue is between the hero and the villain who also “get” each other.

Dueling with words can be just as much fun for the characters and the reader as dueling with swords, and just as dangerous.

Playing Against Type for Humor

Another type of humor that works well in fiction is having a character forced to pretend to be the exact opposite of what he is.  

The prissy heroine may don dirty jeans and boots and do an earthy cowgirl impression to impress a potential client.  This scene pushes the character out of her comfort zone as well as allowing her to see her own ridiculousness in both roles.  

If you can play against type as well as situation, you can give the reader a double treat.

In this scene from an unpublished novel, two heterosexual alpha males are escaping from a hospital although one of them is so badly hurt he should be admitted, not leave, and he had come into the hospital to kill someone so the situation is twisted, as well, into irony, another humor element.

Cole and Daniel staggered into the sanctuary of the empty elevator, and Cole hit the lobby button with his elbow.  

When the door closed, he let Daniel slump against his chest, and he held him up with both arms.  Daniel's legs buckled completely, but Cole was afraid to tighten his hold for fear of the fractured ribs.

The elevator clicked, and a light came on above the door.

"Oh, lord.  We have company," Cole said.

Daniel tried to straighten his legs, but they bowed like a drunken cowboy's. 

"Stay where you are."  Cole pulled him back up. "And for Pete's sake, hide that famous face of yours, darling." 

Tittering drunkenly, Daniel buried his face in Cole's blond hair, then nuzzled his ear, his arms snaking around Cole's waist and neck. 

"Don't be fresh," Cole muttered as the door opened at three.  

A well-dressed, middle-aged couple walked in. 

"Hello," Cole gushed cloyingly and grinned, careful to keep his own famous face in shadow. 

When the graying matron saw the two men in intimate embrace, she backed into the already closed door. 

Cole purred proudly, "We're being married tomorrow." 

The gentleman shoved the next floor's button instead of the main floor. 

Cole fought to keep a straight face and Daniel on his feet. 

The elevator door opened, and the couple rushed out. 

"Damn, they've left," Cole complained. "I wanted to invite them to the wedding." 

"What will Penn and Lylah say?  They don't even know we're dating.”

Cole's laughter got them through the lobby and outside the hospital.