Make Yourself the Most Useful Writer in Your Critique Group

Critical response process turns you into the critique partner every writer wants: someone who offers actionable observations instead of opinionated fixes. Developed by choreographer Liz Lerman for dance and theater critique, critical response process teaches you to describe what’s happening on the page and why—skills that help fellow writers identify issues while sharpening your own revision abilities.

We’ve all been in critique groups where members jump straight into suggestions based on personal taste rather than sniffing out the underlying issue. CRP flips this by focusing feedback on observation and analysis. It’s a supportive approach that lets writers choose which suggestions to explore, creating an environment free from criticism or railroading.

The method is refreshingly simple: Describe what you observe, celebrate what’s working, and ask neutral questions that guide writers to their own discoveries about any elements that could use further development. This approach keeps authors in the creative driver’s seat while building analytical skills you can apply to your own writing.

The Asset Inventory

An often-overlooked but crucial element of effective critique is identifying what’s working well. This isn’t about the sandwich method (hiding criticism between soft, fluffy compliments) or saying something just to be nice or make someone feel good. Pointing out successes affirms the strategies the writer has chosen (some of which might have been instinctual), encourages productive directions, and prevents writers from needlessly revising writing that works.

It’s common as a new critique partner to get hung up on mechanical errors and particulars that are easily polished at a later stage. Instead, develop your eye for the craft. Can you spot the storytelling choices and details that are effectively supporting and moving the story? Can you articulate why they’re on target—beyond “I liked it”?

Describing what and why builds your own skill at identifying writing that works and how—the foundational techniques for revising your own work. The more detail you can give about what you observe, the more actionable data you provide and the better you get at seeing how writing choices shape the reading experience.

Ask yourself what you noticed as you read. What stood out? What in this excerpt was notable?

Describe those observations using words like:

• energizing
• evocative
• provocative
• meaningful
• significant
• exciting
• memorable
• satisfying
• interesting
• effective

Now pull it together into observations that show what’s creating an effective, vivid reading experience:

• “That bakery scene on page 12 came alive for me.”
• “You wove the weather details seamlessly into the action. I felt the heat without any info-dumping.”
• “I burst out laughing when …”
• “Your sentence variety really caught my attention. The rhythm on page 7 pulled me right along…”
• “I’m completely hooked on whether Maya will make it to the audition.”
• “I enjoyed the image of the café tables like scattered coins.”
• “I loved watching the dancers slowly sync up with each other.”
• “All that reflection about her childhood got me thinking about what Lee-Lee might do with these memories later.”
• “That running gag about the broken elevator had me grinning.”
• “The writing pace was perfect—everything tightened up as we approached the confrontation.”
• “This internal monologue really let me experience Tom’s confusion firsthand.”
• “So many moving parts here: the argument, what Graham’s remembering, his worry about Damien’s reaction, plus what the narrator’s highlighting. I loved the layered storytelling.”
• “The grief feels raw and authentic.”
• “That final image wrapped up the scene beautifully and left me desperate to see what happens next.”

Describe and Analyze

Writing issues usually have multiple causes and potential fixes, so resist the urge to offer the first solution that comes to mind—that’s probably what works for your own writing, not someone else’s. You’re working in their story now, so expand your perspective.

For instance, a character you see as a stiff cardboard token might be articulated in technicolor detail elsewhere in the manuscript; they only feel flat because those characteristics aren’t coming through in the workshopped excerpt. That says more about the scene content and tension than it does characterization, so don’t rush into an incorrect diagnosis.

Stick to description. When you catch yourself thinking, “This character doesn’t seem to be emotionally invested here,” pinpoint exactly where that reaction kicked in. What did you notice that triggered that response?

The skills you build by doing this sharpens your analytical skills and helps you understand how writing choices create reader experiences—and it will transform your ability to revise your own work.

The Art of the Neutral Question

Once you’ve identified and articulated an issue, it’s up to the author to decide how to address it. Unless someone has specifically requested your ideas, advice on what to do next is often best left to experienced editors and coaches. There’s nothing more painful to a writer than having to listen to off-the-cuff “solutions” that don’t fit their vision for the story or characters.

Instead, offer observations as neutrally framed questions. The trick is to avoid embedding judgments or solutions in the question itself.

Don’t ask: Why do the characters shout all the time?
Do ask: What guided your decisions about dialogue tags and exclamation points in this passage?

Don’t ask: What do you think readers will say about killing off Marcus so early?
Do ask: Walk us through your decision about Marcus’s story arc.

Don’t say: I didn’t buy that she’s a trained spy.
Do ask: What’s the competency level you want readers to see in this character?

Don’t ask: Why did you write everything in present tense?
Do ask: How did you approach your tense choice for this story?

Don’t ask: Why does he hate his family so much?
Do ask: Can you describe the family dynamics you’re building for this character?

Don’t ask: Shouldn’t this flashback come later?
Do ask: How did you decide to place the backstory at this point in the narrative?

Once you’ve drawn attention to an area with a neutrally presented question, you can step back and let the creator decide whether to implement any changes and how.

More on Critique and Workshopping

Part of what I do as a book coach and author of The Writes of Fiction is curating potent, actionable advice and resources for fiction writers. Here are some favorites on critique and workshopping:

The Writer’s Guide to Critique
Building Your Writing Support Triangle: Critique
Don’t Write Alone: Top 10 reasons to join a writing group or community
When it’s time to leave your critique group
Transform your critique group
Six rules for productive critique partnerships
The hierarchy of editorial concerns
A useful critique checklist
How to compile and evaluate critique feedback

Examples in this article inspired by Lerman, Liz, and John Borstel. Critique Is Creative: The Critical Response Process. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann, 2003.

Quick Recap: Critical response process will make you the most valuable member of your critique group by helping writers identify and understand issues without encroaching on their creative territory with your own solutions. Effective critique analyzes and highlights what’s already working well, describes issues in neutral terms, and uses neutral questions to draw attention to areas needing more consideration.