Ah, negative feedback. The bane of every writer’s existence.

You put your heart, soul mind, sweat, and blood to a piece or worse, a manuscript, and someone truly hates it.

As much as writers have learned to receive rejections from editors and publications with grace, it still affects us emotionally and sometimes, even physically.

After getting a really negative feedback from a friend on one of my novels, I became physically sick.

Now, I’m not being dramatic. And there were obviously other factors contributing to it: We are all emotionally fragile since 2020 has screwed us big time. There is a lot of pent-up anxiety in all of us.

How can there not be?

The things we usually do to relieve our stress, depression, anxiety, frustration, or boredom are no longer really available to us.

Walking about just to be walking about is nowhere on my top 10 favorite things-to-do list, but since most things are off the table, what’s got a writer to do?

And even walking is not the same, is it? You have to wear a mask, be careful not to touch your face, avoid anyone who is not wearing a mask, and wonder if or when the world will ever get back to normal.

Add this global, everyday anxiety and uncertainty to the general anxiety and uncertainties of being a writer, and you’ve got an explosive mix.

The negative feedback was just the tipping point.

But I digress.

There is a reason writers rejoice in the rejection stories of famous, accomplished writers. Not because we enjoy other people’s misery, but because it is a relief to know that rejection and awful feedback happen to the best writers out there.

So, how do you give a negative review or feedback?

Look, it is okay to feel or think absolutely anything about a writer’s work.

It is okay to hate everything about it.

It is okay not to finish the book if you can’t stand it, even if you are friends with the author.

But even if you are a fan of tough love or you mean well, you can still do more harm than good.

Here’s how to go about it.

Start with this:

“I didn’t really connect with the story/characters/plot/dialogue (etc.)” Or “This just didn’t appeal to me.”

Now, this gives the writer a good idea about your opinion.

Before giving a long list of what sucks or doesn’t work, give the writer a chance to brace themselves.

If they want to hear more, they will ask.

And if they ask, continue. But let them take the lead.

If they ask you to stop, please stop.

Here’s a thing to remember about your feedback: It is subjective.

Even if you think you are really helping the author in the long run. Even if you think your suggestions will improve them.

Don’t believe me about subjectivity?

Think about all the critically and/or commercially successful books that you hate.

I’ll wait.

There are many, aren’t there?

• Why did your English teacher force those awful books on you?

Because enough people considered them classics.

• Why on earth did they write a sequel to that novel?

Because there was demand. Because enough people enjoyed the first.

• How could that writer with that horrendous story and stupid characters make so much money?

Because the characters are stupid, according to you. The fans didn’t think the story was horrendous, obviously.

So, take a deep breath, and think about how much of your own preferences affect how you see the story.

For instance, if you don’t find the romantic lead attractive due to some qualities, are you sure no one else will?

The writer sure thought he was attractive. The first readers agreed. (We do give the same book to more than one person, you know.)

Think about how much you care about rules and whether this writer just broke too many of your favorites

Some writers and readers think prologues shouldn’t exist. This doesn’t mean no prologue can be good and necessary for the story.

Some people are adamant flashbacks are lazy. Still, some flashbacks are vital to the story.

Some people love first-person POV stories. Others? Not so much.

Only two things are a given:

• The story should be well-edited for the use of language,
• The story should make sense in the world that it takes place in, there aren’t that many rules.

Being different or unconventional doesn’t automatically make it bad.

When you say a character doesn’t sound like their gender, are you sure you know how literally everyone speaks? Or are you stereotyping people according to your preferences and experiences?

When you suggest a writer studies craft, you might offend them to their core.

Because while statistically it is possible there are writers who don’t study craft, I can assure you, a lot of us do. Obsessively.

In fact, we often have to remind ourselves to stop reading books about writing and practice actual writing.

And when you are giving feedback, you should keep the writer’s intention in mind.

What do they hope to achieve?

If they want to entertain, and you were bored, that is obviously bad. But it doesn’t mean other people weren’t and won’t be entertained.

But you might be looking for literary skills and ambition in a writer who simply wants to give people a fun, imaginative place to escape.

Intention also matters.

How can writers receive such negative feedback?

They can thank the reader for their time and effort. And they can take what they find useful and discard the rest.

Not all feedback is constructive or helpful.

I wrote about evaluating your own feedback for Bang2write: 5 Ways To Evaluate Your Feedback.

In the article, I mainly talk about reacting to screenplay feedback and evaluations, but the same lessons can be applied to novel feedback.

If you don’t want to read the article now, here’s what to consider in a gist:

• Does the feedback-giver enjoy the genre and style you write in?
• Does one person say this? Or do a lot of people agree independently from each other?
• What does your gut say?

I wrote the book Writing the Ultimate Non-Tragic Romance. In the book, I go over a lot of movies, and I talk about why certain elements didn’t work for me.

And when I do, I emphasize the following:

a) It is my opinion,

b) I decide on the elements according to the factors I established early in the book,

c) And me not liking a movie or something about a movie doesn’t automatically make it bad.

There are movies that have been commercially and critically successful where I just didn’t have a good time during.

This is about me. My preferences and what I look for.

It’s okay to feel shitty after a negative review.

Every time you get scathing or just plain negative feedback, just take a deep breath. I know you will feel awful because your story is your baby.

And somebody either told you they are ugly and/or you shouldn’t have had them. Or you should have just done everything differently.

Don’t attack the feedback giver. Keep your cool – at least on the outside. Thank them.

Then take what’s useful, and ditch the rest.

If necessary, write about it to feel better and help others. (Writing can be meta, I know.)

Before you leave, I want you to consider these:

• My favorite movie is Braveheart. I just love it. A TA in college referred to it as just “two guys running toward each other.”

Take that in for a sec. This is a movie that made a profit. It is the favorite or one of the favorites of a lot of people. And it has 5 Oscars.

Who is right here?

Both of us!

And that is the point.

He has the right to hate the movie just as I have the right to love it.

So, the next time you get disappointing feedback, do whatever you need to feel better.

Just don’t bite the head off the feedback-giver.

However, it is okay to ask them to politely stop if you can’t handle it, or you just disagree after having thought about it.

And then move on.

Don’t let it stop you from writing. Don’t let it stop you from sharing your work with others.

And if my movie example didn’t cut it:

• Remember that agents and publishers collectively rejected John Grisham’s first novel, A Time to Kill (aff.link). Then they loved the second one he pitched, The Firm (aff.link).

Does A Time to Kill sound familiar? It is also a movie starring Matthew McConaughey, Sandra Bullock, and Samuel L. Jackson. It is a bestseller whose movie adaptation is rated at 7.5 on IMDB.

Same author. Same story. Different timing.

All we can do is hope we improve with each story, and that the next reader has more fun.

Good luck! You’ve got this!

Oh, and if you think your feedback has more value because you are a writer, you might also want to read How (Not) to Critique Another Writer’s (Fiction) Work As a Writer.