The art of the critique: how to give writing feedback that actually helps (part 1)

Sharing your writing with another person is, quite frankly, terrifying. Whether it’s a rough draft of a poem or the first few chapters of a novel, handing over your work feels like handing over a piece of your soul.

Because we know how vulnerable this process is, we often fear critique groups. We worry we will be ripped apart, or that we will unwittingly discourage someone else. But constructive feedback is the fuel that makes us grow. Without outside eyes, we are blind to our own habits, plot holes, and stylistic stumbles.

Over the years, I have learned that giving good feedback is its own art form. It is not just about having a critical eye—it is about communication, psychology, and respect.

In this two-part series, we are going to master both sides of the coin. Today, we focus on Part 1: How to deliver feedback to other writers that empowers them, rather than puts them on the defensive.

Here are the guiding principles I use every time I read someone else’s work.

1. Build a bridge before you cross it

If you walk into a critique and are immediately blunt and harsh with your thoughts, peoples’ walls will go up. They won’t hear what you have to say, regardless of how accurate your points are. You will have put them into “defensive mode,” and once that happens, the workshop process is over.

To avoid this, I always like to start my feedback—whether it’s on a single poem or pages of prose—with what I liked about their writing.

This isn’t just about flattery, it’s about establishing trust. By showing them that you recognize their strengths, you prove that you are an ally, not an adversary.

2. The language of curiosity: use soft, open-ended phrases

Words have power. How you frame a correction can change how the author internalizes it.

Instead of saying, “This dialogue is unrealistic,” or “You need to cut this whole scene,” I use language that invites the writer to think, rather than defend.

When I give feedback about what might be changed or improved, I always use phrases like:

• “You might consider looking at…”
• “Maybe consider this…”
• “I wonder if this character would actually…”

These are open-ended phrases. They shift the dynamic from a “correcting teacher” to a “curious reader.” It allows the author to become curious about their own work instead of defensive about their choices.

3. Shift from “you” statements to “I” statements

According to many communication experts and veteran workshop leaders, one of the most effective techniques is focusing on your subjective experience as a reader rather than making objective claims about the quality of the writing.

Instead of saying “You wrote this awkwardly,” try saying, “I got a bit lost in this sentence.“

The former is an attack on the writer’s skill, the latter is a report of your experience reading it. An author cannot argue with your subjective experience. It opens a dialogue: “Oh, you got lost? Okay, let me look at why that sentence might be confusing.”

4. Respect the author’s vision

This is perhaps the most crucial point, and I learned it from a frustrating personal experience.

I was working on a novel where I had originally planned for the main character to be a medical doctor. Eventually, I realized that making her a veterinarian fit the story and her character arc much better, so I changed it.

When I brought pages to a workshop, my poetry teacher made a comment that she liked the beginning of my novel better when the character was a medical doctor. Why? Because she was “not an animal person” and so she didn’t like the new version as much.

This type of feedback is ridiculously off-point.

When you are giving feedback, you must distinguish between your personal preferences and what is actually happening in the text. Your job is not to rewrite their story into a story you would want to tell. Your job is to help them write their story as well as they possibly can.

You must not infringe on the author’s creativity or their intentions for their piece. If they want to write a sci-fi epic, you don’t critique them for not writing a romance. You judge the work based on what it is trying to be.

5. The golden disclaimer

Finally, I always like to give the power back to the author with a simple disclaimer.

Before I present my notes, I always preface my comments with something like: “This is just one reader’s opinion. Please take or leave whatever you want. It’s ultimately your story, but these are some ideas I had while reading.”

This reminds the writer that they are in the driver’s seat. It lowers their anxiety because they know they aren’t obligated to take your advice. Ironically, this often makes them more receptive to hearing it.

Closing thought

Giving good feedback takes practice. It requires empathy and careful thought. But when you master the art of the critique, you not only help your writing peers, you also train your own “internal editor” to look at your own work more objectively.

Stay tuned for Part 2, where we turn the tables and look at how to graciously (and productively) receive feedback on your own work!