Professional Critiquing Services

This one fits into my ongoing series about trying to get published for the first time.

Quick summary of where I’m currently at (though feel free to have a look back at some of previous posts along the way) – I’ve got a novel that, after a lot of redrafting, I’m happy with and have sent out to agents. So far there haven’t been many nibbles, though I haven’t been quite as proactive about sending it out as I possibly could have been.

Something I’ve been thinking about for a while is paying for a professional critique of my novel. Whilst I am hopeful that it’s going to knock the socks off anyone who reads it, I am aware that it’s the first thing I’ve written and polished to this degree and I am entirely self-taught. I’ve been hoping that I might pique an agent’s interest enough to get a little specific feedback but, while I’ve had one little morsel, it’s not really enough to base a further redraft on.

At an earlier stage I got a few trusted friends (trusted also in the sense that I thought their opinions would be honest) to have a read and provide feedback which was invaluable, but now I’d really like something a bit more industry-centric. And that comes with a price tag.

I looked up quite a few different services, and tried to find peoples’ own reviews of them, which proved surprisingly hard. Google something like ‘Novel critique service uk review’, and of course you’re only really going to get links to the services themselves! There were a few that stood out from the pack though, and I’ve ended up going with the Writers’ Workshop. They seem to be at the higher end, both in terms of price (over £500 for my 87,000 word novel) and, hopefully, quality. I figured it’s probably worth going for it though – if it helps get towards publication then it’s money well spent, and any feedback on style/structure etc will be useful for future projects.

They’ve got an impressive list of editors, so I’m looking forward to finding out who’ll be tackling my novel, but what swung it for me were their sample critiques. Loads of detail (one of the sample reports is over 10,000 words!), and looking at things from all angles, including marketability. It looks like there should be the chance to chat with the editor about their feedback, and they have ties to agents and publishers should they think it’s strong enough or close to it. We’ll see.

I’ve been able to ask a few specific questions on areas I’m thinking may need attention (is the first quarter attention-grabbing enough? Is the MC active, or too passive? How the arse do I market it as anything other than UK-centric?!) so hopefully they’ll be addressed in particular detail as well as all the other bits and bobs. It takes a fair few weeks to hear back, but I’ll definitely post about the results.

Have any of you had professional critiques? How useful did you find them?

@BornToPootle

Games for Storytellers and Storytelling for Gamers

The happy game for happy people.

The happy game for happy people.

Storytelling as a game is not something new – it’s been around as long as there have been fires to hunch by on long, dark nights. From kids around campfires trying to scare the bejesus out of each other to improvising troupes taking it in turns to spin a yarn word by word, storytelling has led to games and games have led to storytelling.

For Christmas I received a lovely card game from my other half where the whole endeavour lives or dies on the storytelling element, and it got me thinking about my favourite games where creating my own story was either the point or the most fun part. So, in no particular order, here are my top three.

1. Gloom

This was the present I received. It’s a brilliant, gothy card game, very much inspired by Edward Gorey. The premise is that each player has a group of five characters, and by playing special cards on each character the player has to bring as much sorrow down on their heads as possible and kill them off. At the end of the game the player whose characters died in the most anguish wins. The storytelling fun comes from the nature of the cards – the events you play on characters (who vary from mad inventors to twisted circus-folk) are things like ‘trapped on a train’, ‘torn apart by weasels’, ‘chastised by the church’ or ‘plagued by the pox’. It’s up to the player to construct a story for each of their characters that links each event until their inevitable demise. Add to the mix that other players can play cards on your characters to cheer them up and swerve your story in a different direction, and it’s an awful lot of fun.

2. Storytelling dice

I bought a set of these for a friend’s child, but I think they’ll work for any age. It’s a set of nine wooden dice, with different symbols etched on each face of each one. The game is to roll the dice and construct a story based on the elements you roll, and there are magic/fantasy, pirate and space-themed sets to choose from. It would be interesting to use this as the basis for a pantsed NaNoWriMo novel if November comes around and I find I’m at a loose end. You can put the story together in any order you want, or in order die by die – trying to get it to fit a generic plot structure would give you an instant (if, possibly, rather odd) novel outline.

3. Fable 2

A slightly different beastie, this one. I love videogames and Fable 2 is probably my all-time fave. There are many reasons why, but prime among them is the storytelling capability. The humour and scripted quests in the game are compelling enough, though fairly standard, but it’s what you can get up to along the way that really made me fall in love with the game. The amount of different ways you can make your character express themselves, coupled to the reactions to those expressions really set this apart from other games, even the other games in the franchise, and it’s perfectly possible to construct your own narrative around your exploits. So, during the first part of the game you could find true love, get married and have kids, then (spoilerish alert) you get taken away for a while and traumatic things happen. Depending on how much you’d worked on your relationship before being taken away your wife might be waiting, or she may have vanished. So then you can do what you like – pursue your true love or go and get drunk, belch and fart your way through the next few days in a haze of drunkenness, shag half the town and wake up in a same sex relationship, or become a monk-like ascetic, swearing off relationships lest you hurt someone again. I tried the latter and then finally, having given in to temptation and found love with a barmaid, was leading her off to get married when we were attacked by bandits and she was killed. All of this is completely extraneous to the game itself and relies on the player to construct the narrative and put the work in themselves.

Those are my favourite storytelling games – none of them have directly led to any novelling inspiration yet, but should I ever run out of ideas then it’s great to have some ways of getting my storytelling brain kicked back into gear. Have you tried any of these? Or have you got other recommendations? I’d love to try some more!

@BornToPootle