Tips for a Feedback Writing Group

This post is specifically about writing groups to give each other feedback. I have a general post on writing groups including other kinds here.

A writing feedback group is absolutely transformative, both for you and for your writing. As I said in my Top Ten Tips for My Students, other people can do something we can never do for ourselves: tell us how our vision is coming across on the page. We know the effect we want to create, but we need other people to tell us the effect they’re experiencing: how characters are coming across, if a poem is clear or inscrutable, and so on. Bouncing ideas off other people also works better than working alone. We solve other people’s creative dilemmas more easily than our own, and in return, they can do the same for us.

The group helps us, as well as our writing. Having readers and feedback is motivating and keeps us going when we hit a hurdle or a dry patch. If we’re having a bad word day, or struggling with a plot problem, we know we’ve got people to ask for help. And we’ve got companions, in the strange wild worlds we invent and the strange wild process of doing that, who also know what it’s like, celebrate our steps forward, hug us when we cry. (And when we finish a first draft, they’ll throw a party instead of asking “When can I buy it in the shops?”! They get it.)

For all of this, we need a consistent, long-term, suitably sized writing group, which can read each other’s work over time and build strong bonds. We need to trust them, because we’re showing them the early drafts, the imperfect work – even if we’ve got it as perfect as we can make it on our own. They can only give us the support of bouncing ideas if we feel safe asking for help. Having them as readers is only motivating if we feel this is a good place to share our writing.

So here are my suggestions for how to assemble and develop a group like that, some extra feedback tips especially for writing groups, and how to find those lovely people in the first place.

Assembling a group

Who’s a good fit

In my experience, having the exact same level of experience and the same genre isn’t that important. Different genres teach each other good things and a mix of poems and fiction can also work well.

What matters most is...

• You read each other’s genres / forms, even if not devotedly.
• You have a similar-ish level of output.
• You have a similar level of commitment.

Practicalities fit

The basic practicalities are just as important: for the group to last, it needs to fit well in our lives.

• Are you looking for an online group or in person?
• Do you want to be geographically close? (Eg ours meets online but we keep it to Oxford so we can also meet up socially in person.)
• How often do you want to meet? Once a week? Once a fortnight?
• What times and evenings work? Agreeing a set day is much easier than trying to juggle multiple calendars, which often leads to a group petering out. Our group sometimes shifts for a term, because of my teaching, but then we stick to the new day for that term.

Group size

4–5 people is a really good cohesive size long-term and means everyone can get feedback each meeting. That said, groups often shrink for all sorts of non-bad reasons (babies, job changes, evenings available shift, all sorts of Life Stuff), so it’s fine to start larger.

Developing a group

Agree the rules

Having clear rules up front helps prevent a lot of social stress and potential frustration. The rules should cover:

• How much you can send in each time. Our group has a 4000-word limit.
• When it’s sent by. We’ve recently moved this to the weekend before, to accommodate work schedules.
• How many is quorum to meet if various people can’t make it. (For us, quorum is two.) This also helps prevent the calendar-juggle, which can lead to petering out.
• How long to spend on each person’s feedback. 20–45 mins is often good, depending on how much people are submitting. Allowing too long can be unhelpful, as people start trying to find extra things to say. I find that 20 mins is great for 2000 words; 40–45 for 4000. We put the person getting feedback in charge of watching their time, so they can move the discussion on if they need to.

You can always adjust the rules as you need to – eg if someone’s finding the word-limit too high, and struggling to read everything, you can discuss it in the group and change the rule. But having clear rules makes everything smoother.

Allow time for chitchat and social meetings

This is essential for bonding, to build that trust and relationship: ruthless efficiency doesn’t build bonds. It’s important to respect everyone’s time, so the group stays viable long-term, but also to allow 5–10 mins to chat at the start, and a bit of space to chat between people.

High trust, high honesty

This is something that builds. Our writing is close to us, dear to us, and something we’ve made. So sharing it is quite vulnerable, especially at first. I’ve got lots in my Top Ten Tips for Giving and Receiving Feedback about how to approach feedback well, and some extra feedback tips below, to help with that.

The other aspect of high trust is to be honest with your group about where you’re at. If you’re feeling fragile that day, they need to know. If you need extra buoying up, tell them. That doesn’t mean they say anything false (that’s unhelpful) but they remember to prioritise the stuff that’s working well. Everyone in my group has, on at least one occasion, burst into tears. And this is an incredibly safe very bonded group! Not because anyone was cruel, but because the person getting feedback was overwhelmed by whatever else was going on. Sometimes we don’t realise that until we’re crying and then it’s, “Wah, sorry, this is kinda about where I am right now, not what you said.” We’re all allowed to be vulnerable, hence being honest, and trusting.

Celebrate!

Part of being a group is celebrating each other: if someone creates a chapbook of poems, or finishes a short story, or the first draft of their novel – rejoice with them and celebrate with them. Sometimes (in fact often), they’re struggling to celebrate at that point, so rejoice for them, throw celebration at them!

I love cooking, so I love making a dinner party based on the food in someone’s story: I had enormous fun devising nettle pies with vegetarian hot-water crust and a fey foraged salad, for one. In January 2026, when I finished a huge rewrite, my group threw me a pirate party, complete with menu and decorations based on my story’s world. (I’m not the only cook in the group!) For someone else’s completed first draft, we had a lunch out at her choice of spot and ordered custom LEGO mini-figures of the characters in her novel. We also have extra celebratory rituals – eg if someone submits the final instalment of their story, we give them the whole session for feedback, just them, with plenty of time to go through “yellow bits” (phrases / words we’ve highlighted as especially good).

Whatever celebrations, rituals, and festivities work for your group, celebrate each other.

Extra feedback tips

Absolutely read my Top Ten Tips for Giving and Receiving Feedback: there’s heaps of essential detail there on these ten tips:

• Ask questions
• Say what's good
• Say what could be improved
• Listen and consider
• Feedback should help people write more
• Think growth not talent
• Set time and length limits
• Be careful who you ask for feedback
• Avoid group-think in writing groups
• Have multiple feedback sources

Different patterns emerge when we work together over a long time, so I have five extra tips specific to longer-term writing groups.

Don’t worry about spoilers

Your writing group is so you can help each other: share each other’s worlds, spot the things you can’t, be a source of motivation and encouragement, and so on. So you need to share what you have with them, for them to do that.

It’s fine to try avoid spoilers, when you’re trying to work out how something plays out, but in the end there are inevitably “spoilers” – when they’re seeing a rewrite of a chunk, or you’re working on a full redraft. That’s where beta-readers come in: they can see the much more polished draft (thanks to your group) and answer those questions. Your writing group helps you create and improve it, so they need to see what you’ve got.

Offer problems not solutions

That seems wild but it’s the right way round. We’ve spotted something that’s not working for us in the poem or story. It’s in our remit to say what’s not working, and why (ie exactly where in the text we’re getting that from). But it’s not in our remit to give the “fix”.

The writer knows their own work much better and once they understand the issue, and if they agree, they’ll have a wider repertoire to draw on for changes. (In a 2014 FantasyCon Editor’s Panel, the professional editors said the same.) In fact, jumping in too quickly with our own ideas can stymie their process: before they’ve had a chance to think, we’ve already sent their thinking a particular direction.

Similarly, never lead with just suggestions. It might feel like flagging up the problem is “negative”, so we start with the suggested fix. To them, without the problem being identified, it feels like we took a perfectly fine story or poem and started trying to write our own on top. If they want suggestions, they can ask or we can offer.

A few years ago, when everyone was getting too excited about suggestions and new ideas, and overwhelming each other, our group instituted a “no suggestions unless asked for” rule. We absolutely still ask for and offer suggestions. Bouncing ideas around and getting advice from each other is a beautiful part of the process. It’s wonderful when a group stepping-stones their way to a perfect fix: one identifies the issue; another suggests a fix and flags up an issue with the fix; a third uses that to suggest an alternative that works; and so on. But we need to keep really clear boundaries on that and make sure, at every stage, the writer still wants ideas and isn’t having them rained down.

Before giving suggestions, ask:

• “Would you like a suggestion?”
• “I have an idea for how to resolve that, if you’d like.”
• “Do you want more ideas at this point?”

And if you don’t want other people’s ideas at this point, you can say:

• “I’d like to think about it more myself first, thanks.”
• “Actually I’m fine for the moment.”
• “I need to process it on my own a bit first.”
• “Thanks, but I think I’ve got plenty to explore.”

It’s fine not to give all your feedback

It’s the writer’s job to say what they want feedback on. We need to answer what they’ve asked, ask if they want anything else, and stop there. It doesn’t matter how brilliant our edits were if they didn’t ask for edits.

The temptation to give exhaustive feedback is always there, and only grows stronger when we get more invested in each other’s work. We’ve got great ideas! We’ve got very useful edits! We love the piece and want to make it better! We need to resist that temptation. Exhaustive feedback breaks people. Remember the original Tip 5: Feedback should help people write more.

Beware the “Actually, now I think about it...”

It wasn’t an issue. Some of us flagged it as something we liked. But now we think about it, as the conversation goes on, it’s really a problem actually? And maybe they could do this, or that, or the next thing… And increasingly, the suggestion would throw their story or poem out of kilter, tone, voice.

This can be a result of allowing too much time for feedback, so we scrape for more to say. In a long-term group, though, it also crops up as a result of good bonds. Agreeing with each other feels good, in a group! And we need to beware of that, in our writing groups. (That’s the original Tip 9: Avoid group-think in writing groups.)

It’s fine for someone else to pick up on something we didn’t and for us to agree. We can just say, “I didn’t notice that, but I agree.” If we start extemporising on it, having only just thought about it, we risk creating a pile-on.

We’re the readers

As we get more engrossed in each other’s stories, and feel deeply invested in them, it’s easy to start speculating “what a reader might think”. But they’re testing it on readers, right now, right here: we are the readers of their poem or story. In a past writing group, we had this exchange:
“A reader might be confused by X.”
“Were you confused?”
“No, not at all.”

We don’t need to hypothesise readers: we are the readers. Likewise, if we’re seeing a rewrite, we can’t be a first-time reader and guess what they might think – that, again, is where beta-readers come in.

The only reason we forget we’re the readers is that we’re so engaged with each other’s work, and that’s beautiful. In fact, all these extra tips come in to play precisely because it’s a fantastic, long-term, supportive group. And that’s what exactly what we need, to know our writing’s effects, to bounce ideas, to motivate each other, to ask for help, and to enjoy the company of other writers!

Finding your people

So where do you find people to create a group like this? The best way is to meet other writers, in person or online – a chance to chat to them, live. That’s one of the reasons I create as many opportunities for that as I can, in everything I run.

If you’re in the Writers’ Greenhouse Community, you have the chance to chat to each other in the monthly Writing Boosts and to follow up those connections in the online group chat. When I run online workshops, including the freebies, I always include time to work together, to meet each other. If you’re in Oxford, everyone’s welcome to the Summer Drinks, plus the Summer of Writing workshops are fantastic for meeting other writers and chatting about writing.

And in the multi-week courses, whether online or in person, you really get to know each other well – pretty much every course I run goes on to create a writing group for those who want one and don’t have one yet. Some of them now running for years! You can see all the live courses here.

May your writing group be a joy and a boon, may you help each other, trust each other, and celebrate each other. And happy writing!

CELEBRATING 10 years with my 10 best feedback tips

In the previous celebration post of my top 10 tips overall, the final tip was to join the circle of writers: our creativity flourishes best together. A vital part of that is giving and receiving feedback well. Over the last ten years, I've given feedback on well over a thousand pieces of writing and I've learnt a lot about giving feedback that genuinely helps people. In my own writing groups, I'm both giving and receiving feedback: being on the receiving end is essential for my own writing and to remember what it's like for my students. So gathering all of that together, here are my 10 best tips for giving and receiving feedback.

1 Ask questions

When you give someone writing for feedback, say what you want feedback on. Tell them what level draft it is, eg first draft, reworked but not edited, almost-final draft, so they know where to pitch their feedback. If there's a typo in a first draft, you don't need to know; almost-final draft, that's useful info. Then ask questions. Useful questions for fiction might be...

• What do you think of x character?
• Did the tension lag in any bits? Did any parts feel too expository?
• What do you guess / suspect will happen next?
• Is the voice consistent?
• Where could I add more description?
• Middle 2 paragraphs of pg 3: I'm debating cutting these. What do you think?

For poetry, questions might be...

• What mood does it evoke for you?
• What's your interpretation of what it's about?
• What does the reference to x mean to you?
• Which do you think are the strongest / weakest lines?
• What do you think of x-y rhyme pairing?
• How does the metre flow for you?

Keep your questions open-ended, avoiding spoilers and yes/no answers. For example, instead of "Can you tell Y is the murderer?" ask "Who are you most suspicious of?" Instead of "Is X-character coming across as intelligent enough?" ask "How is X-character coming across?" For characters, the three-traits test is good: everyone in the group writes down three character traits for that character, then compares. That gives a great cross-section of views – plus if people are struggling to think of three, you know the character isn't clearly defined yet.

These questions are important for the people giving feedback, so they know what to comment on. They're equally useful for you: thinking carefully about what questions to ask gives you new insight into your writing. It also acts as a lovely safety net while you're writing. If I'm having a difficult-words day or feeling insecure, I dash down the questions to ask my writing group, then carry on, knowing their help will be coming in the future.

You're also allowed to ask for positive feedback only. If something's tentative first-draft, you don't need to know the characterisation's still weak or pages 2-4 are all exposition: you need to know which stuff is exciting and interesting. You need enthusiastic readers who'll help you spot the possibilities. 

Finally, put your questions at the end of the piece. Let the reader form their opinions then see what you want feedback on. Often, in our group, we find we've flagged things up before reaching the question on that issue, which is an extra confirmation it needs sorting out.

2 Say what's good

The first time my students give me work for feedback in a course, the instruction sheet says "DON'T PANIC" (in large friendly letters) and then "You're not being marked on your work: I’ll tell you what’s working well in it and give you suggestions to improve it." Sometimes students joke about the "shit-sandwich" approach: the idea that to give negative feedback, you start and end with positives. But that's not what it's about, in writing feedback. Yes, hearing positives makes it easier to take negative feedback on board, but saying what's good in writing is 100% valuable in itself. We need to be told what's good because we don't already know. In a first draft, you often can't tell. By third or fourth draft, something you worked hard on at the start is so familiar you've forgotten it's even doing something important. If you're cutting your writing down for length (I'm a chronic over-writer), it's a Godsend to have the group's feedback on which are the best bits, so you know to keep those.

Saying what's good in someone else's writing is also one of the best ways for you to improve as a writer. Spotting flaws is much easier than spotting what someone's doing right. Flaws stand out more. We're trained to look for the negatives. And we spot the flaws in areas we're already good at. If your dialogue is excellent, you see in an instant that someone else's is clunky. But spin it round. If your dialogue is poor, can you spot good dialogue? Seeing what other people are doing well teaches you far more than seeing where they're not as good as you. Everyone wins.

3 Say what could be improved

This is the second half of what I promise my students. Hearing what's good is essential, but so are suggestions for how to develop. If something is unclear or confusing, if the tension lags, if you genuinely can't make head or tail of a poem, that’s part of feedback. When a writing group or writing-buddy relationship becomes too "kind", it slowly stagnates – and it's not actually kind, because it's not helping each other progress.

That said, be gentle in your delivery. Talk about the writing, your response to it and understanding of it, not about the author. It helps to use “it” and “I” language, not “you”. Instead of “You lost me on pg 3” say “I found pg 3 a bit confusing”. Instead of “All your exposition is slowing down the story” say “It has a lot of exposition, which is slowing down the story.” We identify strongly with our writing so a critique can feel personal: help it stay focused on the piece. And remember to stick to the brief, ie their questions: if someone's submitted first draft and doesn't want line-by-line feedback, don't go in with your editorial red pen, Just because you've spotted something doesn't mean it needs flagging up now.

4 Listen and consider

When you're receiving feedback, it's tempting to jump in and say "So what I was trying to do there was..." or "I need to put that in because..." Bite your tongue for a bit. In some groups, we've even had a rule that the writer isn't allowed to speak for the first ten minutes. That helps the feedback stay focused on what's actually there on the page, not what the writer meant to be there. It also helps you listen and process your first responses, especially if you're feeling defensive. Nod, thank people, make notes. Once you've listened fully, you can ask follow-up questions: "I do need some of the stuff about lemons as set-up for later: do you think it would work if I just kept x line?" "I can see the character's not coming across the way I intended. Which bits made her seem hostile, to you?" and so on.

The other part is to consider. No-one's feedback is the Word of God engraved on stone tablets. It's another writer's opinion. If you disagree strongly, don't chuck it out immediately: sit with it a bit, sleep on it, think it over. Consider it. And if you consider it's wrong, then you can dismiss it.

5 Feedback should help people write more

I've had a number of students join a course with serious scars from past feedback from other courses or agencies. Often they've stopped writing for years. The thought of getting feedback again has made some of them shake and nearly cry. I'm in awe of their bravery, that they have still signed up for a writing course, that they're giving me their writing to read, however fearfully. And I am Mother-Bear furious with the people who did that to them.

Feedback should help people write more. The single biggest factor in improving our writing is writing more. All the theory, tips of the trade, and craft-of-writing books in the world are useless unless we're writing lots. We don't have to figure out every writing trick ourselves, through trial and error, but we do need to use them in our writing – which means we need to be writing. If someone's feedback stops a person writing, that feedback is a complete failure. It doesn't matter how clever it is, how "insightfully" it "identified the problem": it has failed at its fundamental purpose.

Remember this, if you've had or if you get feedback that quashes you: the person giving the feedback has failed, not you. To avoid ever giving feedback like that, all these tips will help, plus a few other pointers. First, pitch your feedback to the person's level. Look at where they are in their writing development right now, and choose areas to improve that are within their grasp. Second, be selective: don't detail every single aspect that could be improved; focus on the things that will make the biggest difference. We are all always developing as writers, but we can't develop on every front at once. And we'll develop best by continuing to write.

6 Think growth not talent

One student, who's also my oldest friend, told me, "Your feedback's always so helpful for improving stuff, but it's so positive that I don't know if I'm any good at writing." We had a slightly puzzled conversation, because I'd just told her, in her written feedback, what was good in her writing and what could do with work. Eventually she said, "But what if someone's just really bad? Would you tell them?" Then I realised we were coming at the question from completely opposite ends.

There's no such thing as a bad writer. There's no such thing as a good writer. There's no such thing as talent. There are people who have some slight advantage – for instance, learning to read young and growing up in a wordy household, which creates more exposure to language, so their early work is ahead of their peers, so they're encouraged and praised, so they do more, and continue to, in the constant sunlight of admiration... That's just getting good by doing something lots and being encouraged, but it gets mistaken for talent.

We all develop as writers. Would I tell someone their writing is "bad"? No. Nor would I think that. It's at a particular level of development. I'd tell them what's good in it and make suggestions to improve it. As I told my friend that evening, some of my students producing fantastic quality work, publishable and/or published, gave me intial submissions that she'd call "bad". If I'd cut them off then, they'd never have had a chance to develop. If a student wants to know if a particular piece is ready to be sent out for publication, that's a different question, which still isn't about them being good/bad, but how developed that particular piece is. None of it's about being "good" or "bad", it's about developing.

I've learnt to reflect that in my language, when I give feedback. In the early days, I'd say "You have a talent for description" or "You have a flair for dialogue", and so on. Sounds encouraging, right? Actually, it's unhelpful and even insulting. It insults the work they put in to write that description and dialogue: it didn't "come naturally", they did that. And it doesn't help them. Next time they're stuck with their dialogue or description, what should they think? That they've lost their flair, their talent? If I recognise the work they did and say what they did to make that bit good, then they can do that again next time, when it's coming less easily. These days, my feedback will read more like this: "You've written very natural dialogue, by using contractions and leaving out unnecessary words. The way you imply x, rather than explaining it, gives us a sense of how well they know each other." and so on. And it feels a hell of a lot better to be praised for the specific choices you've made than to be told you're "talented".

7 Set time and length limits

Whether you're writing buddies, a writing group, or a teacher taking in work for feedback, set strict length limits on how much someone can send in. Our group of 4–5, which meets weekly, has an upper limit of 4000 words. (Introduced to keep me in check!) For student submissions, I limit it to 2000 words of prose or one poem of 40 lines. Likewise, set time limits for when stuff need to be sent by, if you're reading each other's work before you meet, and set time limits for how long you spend on each person's work. These may seem like humdrum logistical points compared to the other tips, but they're the basis of a healthy long-lasting writing group or buddy arrangement: clear boundaries which keep it doable for everyone. Reading other people's work takes time, talking about it takes time, we all have other things we need to slot it around. Respecting everyone's time keeps the relationships harmonious.

8 Be careful who you ask for feedback

You show your family and friends your writing, and they read it. (Result!) You say eagerly, "What do you think?" and they say, "I liked it." You push for more feedback. Striving to be helpful, they start to criticise it. They point out typos, tell you they don't like the genre, flag up a swear word a character used... The experience is upsetting for everyone and discouraging for the writer.

Non-writers are usually hopeless at giving feedback – and fair enough. You have to know a lot of the machinations of writing to give useful feedback and being a reader isn't enough. I'm a driver, but I couldn't give a car mechanic feedback on their work; all I can say is "It's making a funny noise" or "The noise is gone now." It's not fair to expect our family and friends to give us helpful feedback, especially when a piece is still developing. If you want help, ask fellow writers. If you don't have a writers' group or a writing buddy, set one up. Lots of students on my courses form writing groups at the end of the course, and anyone who's been on the courses can join the Slack / Facebook community, to find people to form groups with.

Be especially careful not to ask for feedback when you actually want praise, validation, or just to share your world. It's easy to fall into this trap with parents and partners / love-interests: we say "What do you think?" when we mean "Look what I made!" So use your writer-words to say what you really mean: "I'm so pleased with this poem and I wanted to share it." "I'm having so much fun creating this world and I wanted you to know about it too." If you really need them to say more than "I liked it" then return to Tip 1 and ask questions you want the answers to. "Which is your favourite bit?" "Which character did you like most?"

Your family, friends, and partners are there to love you and share your delight. Your fellow writers have the know-how to help you develop your writing.

9 Avoid group-think in writing groups

Similar to the danger of a writing group or buddy arrangement becoming too "kind", a group can develop "group-think" over time. That's when keeping the group harmonious becomes more important than thinking critically and independently, and it can lead to some very skewed perspectives. 

To avoid this, firstly, actively embrace disagreement within your writing group. If one person thinks a particular page should go and someone else loves it, good! If one person hates a character and someone else loves them, good! Never try to move from that to a group consensus: someone will be backing down and you'll be losing their insights. Make a note of the differing opinions, and you as the writer can choose your course later. Secondly, work apart and then together. In the three-traits test, everyone writes down their own view of a character and then compares. In our group, by sending our writing in advance, we read it independently and then compare our views. When people are forming and expressing their opinions at the same time, it's very easy to landslide down with the first, loudest, or strongest opinion, and not even notice we're not thinking independently anymore.

The beauty of a writing group is getting multiple opinions at once: keep them multiple.

10 Have multiple feedback sources

Having multiple opinions within a writing group is fantastically helpful. Having multiple groups and writing buddies is also good, not disloyal. We need different people for different stages. The person you've talked out the whole plot with can't tell you if your suspense and reveals are working: they already know everything. The group that helps you hammer and polish your first draft can't read the final draft with fresh eyes: they know every detail of what you're trying to do. This is also where family, friends, and partners come back in.

In my writing, my partner knows every detail of the world. I read aloud the raw first-draft to him in the kitchen in the evenings, at the Plough on weekends, on holiday in Turkey. That's him being my cheerleader and my love: I want to share my world. I thrash out plot problems and pick his brilliant brain: then he's my co-creator. When I turn that raw first-draft into actual story, I write it, type up, print it, add bits, refine it, print a clean copy, and give him that to read: then he's my alpha-reader. He flags up anything that strikes him as odd. Sometimes practical matters: if you saw a barrel lengthways, it'll fall apart. (Doh!) Sometimes story-structure matters: x character seemed completely unsurprised by that news. Sometimes suggestions: he'd like to see that scene in more detail or that part is happening too fast. I make adjustments and then it goes to my writing group.

The writing group are my writing experts: they hammer down into the serious story structure stuff, flag up exposition, comment on prose. I come away with a sheaf of edits and usually some reworking. If I'm heavily rewriting a scene, I'll bring it back to them for a second pass: it's not going to surprise them, at that stage, but they can help me check the language.

When the book is finished and I've edited it, then I need fresh readers. These don't have to be writers, necessarily, just readers, so it can be friends and family. This isn't about looking for expert advice, it's finding beta-readers for a reader-response to the finished book. To make that work for both of us, I need to remember Tip 1 and ask questions. At the end of each chapter: "How is x character coming across? What do you think will happen next? Who do you suspect? What most surprised you?"

That's 6 different roles, some of which need more than one person: cheerleader, co-creator, alpha-reader(s), writing expert(s), beta-readers. Some of them can overlap and be the same person; some absolutely can't, because it needs fresh eyes. It's not "disloyal" to have several writing group / buddy arrangements: it's important. And we absolutely can't be alone, as writers. As I said at the start, we need each other: our creativity flourishes best together.

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My aim, as a teacher, is always to empower my students: people shouldn't be dependent on me, to write. But we don't have to be independent, either: we're interdependent. Over the last ten years, I've learnt so much more about teaching, thanks to all of you and your feedback, created so many new courses and workshops, thanks to all of you and your input, got to read so much of your lovely writing and share in so many different worlds and stories. The solstice tips today and the year's almost over, so this is the last of the ten-year celebration posts, but the Writers' Greenhouse is going strong, thanks to you. And whatever year it ends up actually happening, we are definitely having that ten-year anniversary party!

Happy writing and may all your feedback be helpful!

 

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Want writing feedback or a mentoring chat from me? You can get supportive, constructive feedback for any length of writing from just 2000 words or a single poem through to a complete book.

Or you can book a mentoring hour, to discuss your wider plans (eg how to work towards a poetry collection), to workshop a plot, or to get help with a process (eg how to redraft). Whatever’s useful to you. 

Choose what suits you here, or if you're not sure, email me and we can discuss what'll work best for you.

Writers' groups: giving feedback

NOTE: This post has been superceded by a much more comprehensive post: My top 10 tips for giving and receiving feedback.

 

Running a writers' group spoke about how valuable writers' groups are, in offering community, motivation, and feedback. Accepting feedback well is an art form, but so is giving it well. Over the years of being in and running writers' groups and writers' courses, these are the three best rules of thumb I've learnt for feedback.

Running a writers' group

For feedback writing groups, I now have an updated in-depth post here. 

For years, my own contact with writers' groups was hit-and-miss. At university, I had enough writing courses and writerly societies to keep me well fed with feedback and community. After university, in a new town, I didn't know how to find "my" people. I went to a few writing events and occasionally skimmed through the local ads, but didn't find what I was looking for. It occurred to me to start one, but I held back, shy and nervous of getting no responses. It didn't occur to me that I really, really needed a group: I needed other people in my life who cared that much about writing, I needed their feedback and motivation, and I needed the pleasure and community of giving feedback and motivation in return. Finally an ad popped up: someone else was brave enough where I'd hung back. Joining that group was one of the best things I could do - for my writing and also for the firm friendships that grew.

So if you're a writer without a writers' group, this is for you: how much it helps; how to find and start one; and some ideas of how to arrange meetings and run it. If you're already part of a writers' group, please share your own experiences in the comments!