Critical Reading

This is a continuation, of sorts, of the infamous Critique post and the less controversial Reading for Pleasure post.  I guess the flip-side of seeking Critique is participating in Critique as a reader.

I take that back. It’s not really a flip-side.  My position is the same.

The problem is the same. And in the Reading for Pleasure post, I pretty much laid it out. I’ve spent years tackling a reading critically problem.  It surfaced when I started “learning” to write, and going to peer critiques. Here’s the thing… critiquing is mind numbingly easy.  When you start from a position of trying find what’s wrong…you will.  Give me a week with Shakespeare, Gatsby, Hemingway… I’ll find something to criticize. But, good Lord, why would I want to do that?

The Lonesome Dove post showed that I haven’t completely conquered this demon, though I wasn’t overly critical… and I am REALLY enjoying this book.

So the selfish answer is I don’t want to critique because it is no fun. I read to be entertained.  The other collateral damage I’m trying to avoid is that reading critically means less time in my creative mind… not to mention, giving criticality that kind of power over my reading gives it an “in” when I sit down to write.

What does this means for fellow writers?  Do I not want to read your stories, poems, essays?

I do.  I want to read and enjoy them. I would be honored.  If your stuff is on the market, I’ll most likely purchase it (or borrow from library) and read it. If I don’t purchase it, and you share your work with me, I will be grateful and thank you for the opportunity to enjoy your work.

Unfortunately, if you come to me and ask me to share “what’s wrong with it?”  I won’t be able to help.  That’s critical reading, and I won’t purposefully take on that task for the selfish reasons I mention above.  I will, however, share one of my core beliefs:

The greatest quality an artist can have is belief in oneself.

–TD