On a monthly basis, I meet with a group of other writers. We all write different genres; fantasy, historical fiction, cozy mysteries and inspirational. But we have one thing in common. We are writers. 

We send our work to each other and then when we meet face to face, we critique. With a manuscript in our lap and pen in hand, we speak candidly from a reader’s perspective to the writer. We are kind, but frank, respectful, but direct and courteous, but straight forward. 

When we submit ourselves to each other’s critiques, we become better writers.

           The Stories in our Heads

Though we may not realize it, we all tell ourselves stories. Even though we may never write them down, or share them out loud, they become the narratives we live by. Consequently, if we do not critique the personal accounts we tell ourselves, our stories might lead us astray. 

These personal narratives we tell ourselves, are formed as we live our lives. Most stories begin with the stories we first hear as youngsters from the adults that surround us. From the little phrases they say to us that seem to stick in our brains, we begin spinning our yarns. 

For instance, I recall a phrase from my grandmother that stuck with me, “It is a man’s world, Terese.” When Grandma told me this, I felt the need to disprove her, one male at a time. 

The funny thing was, I declared war on all men, assuming they all believed that it was a man’s world. I stood strong and mighty against them, and trusted not a one of them.  

The only reason I declared war against men was for the fact that they were men. But, when I married a man and I could no longer continue believing my narrative because he caused me to consider my narrative. 

Was it true of all men that they considered it to be a man’s world? Not according to my husband. And he was the reason I changed my story.

Until I get to know that man who stands before me, I cannot say that he believes as my grandmother did. Until I ask him, “Do you believe that it is a man’s world?” I cannot assume that he does. 

As a result, when I meet a man, I withhold spinning any new yarns about him, until I get to know his story.  

Why bother critiquing our stories? Unless we are kind, but frank, respectful, but direct and courteous, but straight forward, with ourselves, we may mistake fantasy for truth.