by j.a. kazimer
I know. I know. It’s not legal to choke the life out of anyone (no matter how good it would feel). And yet, I want to kill my critique partner with every breath I take. And I know just how to do it. I’d start with a roll of duct tape and the word orangutan…
But you, dear blog reader, are not here for ideas on how to get away with murdering your fellow writers (or maybe you are, who am I to judge), so instead I will tell you a little bit about why my critique partner must die.
The reason is simple: They critique me.
I know, right? What are they thinking?
But is critiquing worth it, one might ask, if that one likes to suffer? And since you’re reading a blog about being a professional writer, I’m guessing you do. So my answer is, perhaps.
Working with a critique partner is like being married in many ways. By which I mean thankless and unending. And like a marriage, your critique relationship depends on each writer following the ‘rules’. These should be a set of guidelines developed before a critique relationship begins, sort of like a prenup, in which both writers agree to certain things. Sounds easy enough, right? If you think so, I’m guessing you’ve never said ‘I Do’.
So you’re probably asking yourself, ‘Why would anyone have a critique partner?’
Good question. But it comes down to this—When it works, it works.
And sometimes it doesn’t.
So you plot their murder.
And then you send them your next chapter.