96: The Dangers of Feedback
9/24/2015
Well, I finished The Yara again. This time I focused on making it clearer that all the Luala sections after the first were flashbacks. I’ve only had three readers of this prologue, and Rob was the only one to completely misunderstand every aspect of it. He not only misinterpreted the boma metaphor (though at least he realized it was a metaphor), but he somehow got the bizarre impression that Mosai was psychic and making the boma before Luala was dead. This, despite the fact that I had clearly stated that Mosai’s flashbacks were indeed flashbacks, even with time references (e.g. nine moons ago, less than a moon ago, etc.). This lack of reading comprehension from a retired professional reader and teacher from an elitist school like Lakeside was discouraging to say the least.
However, I couldn’t afford to ignore the possibility that the fault was mine and my methods of conveying the flashbacks. It’s extremely difficult for me to judge, no matter how much distance I have from the material, because I know all too well every detail and the various meanings and intents behind them.
As for the other two readers who claimed to understood it all, I can’t afford to trust their feedback. The possibility of their not wanting to sound stupid by admitting they found it confusing is all too real. Indeed, neither one ever gave me any useful feedback, just vague comments and flattery that were as welcome as the they were useless.
At any rate, proceeding with the assumption that The Yara plotting structure was confusing, I reframed it into four sections (I-IV) instead of seven. So, instead of cutting away in the middle of a flashback to the next section, I’m hoping my new transitions to the present will not only clarify where flashbacks are beginning but also where they’re ending. It upsets me that I have to dumb-down and spoon-feed this, possibly destroying the fragile artistry of it, but I can’t take the chance of excluding casual noncritical readers at the very outset of my series. I have to at least keep the surface story accessible for all levels of readers in the beginning.
In addition to the flashback transitions there were a lot of general rewrites to smooth out awkward phrasing and subpar imagery. It took four days of work to get all this done, and when I was finished and rereading it, I was much happier with the overall writing quality, but ironically, less satisfied with the flashbacks.
The idea that the flashbacks are indeed flashbacks is clearer, so in that sense it was a successful rewrite. But the pacing of section III, that now combines three scenes into one, is all messed up. Everything goes too fast with a constant back and forth in time that is disorienting and obnoxious. The original had a more natural rhythm with its seven discrete section breaks.
I may yet revert back to my that structure, but not until I’m on a computer. I’m tired of monkeying around with this and I want to continue with the main narrative. It may have been a mistake to stipulate that Rob’s misreadings might have validity, and maybe I shouldn’t have allowed him to cause me to second guess my own instincts. Oh well, it’s nothing I can’t fix and revert back to later.
Present-Day Reflection
8/29/2026
Allowing feedback to influence the shape of my work is indeed dangerous. Even today, as I prepare for the launch of my first book – Wings of Providence – on October 1st, being able to trust feedback remains problematic. The copy-editing feedback I’m getting is easy to accept – all the grammatical and punctuation mistakes I tend to make. Even some of the stylistic feedback involved in line editing is easy to accept in terms of increasing clarity. It’s the content editing that deals with plotting, pacing, and character development that I have a hard time trusting.
I’ve made changes in content when the advice seems reasonable, though mostly dealing with things being removed rather than having things added. I’m much more open to killing my darlings, as Stephen King puts it, than I am in reworking the plot or fundamentals of my structure.
In the end, I’d rather err on the side of staying true to my own voice and vision than to err on the side of over compromising with the opinions of others. For what would I profit by winning readers at the expense of losing the soul of my work?
It’s a judgement call.
