Before
I go any further, one thing must be absolutely clear: Anybody who volunteers to
beta-read any fanfic gets my vote for sainthood, no questions asked. And
anybody who's actually good at it should get, not only sainthood, but
also a lifetime of really great foot rubs.
No,
where the writer-beta reader relationship gets screwed up (and it's recently
come to my attention that it gets screwed up more often than you might think),
it's usually because the writer has been too cavalier or too naïve -- or
perhaps just too desperate -- to go into the relationship with a realistic
notion of what the arrangement can and/or should accomplish.
Consequently,
here is my guide to finding a beta reader you can live with and who actually
will do you some good. My first piece of advice is that you should have a
conversation with yourself about what you want from your beta and what the
relationship should be like before you even consider going out looking for one.
There are three overriding principles that I think every fanfic writer should
grasp before even attempting to seek a beta reader.
First,
never forget this: It's your story. You, not your beta reader,
are responsible at all times and in all ways for whether that piece of prose
ends up being a laser beam of genius or a piece of cow-flop or anything in
between.
I
recently heard about a case where a writer, when presented by a reader with
evidence of a factual error in one of her stories, responded that she was
sorry that the beta reader had missed it. A more contemptible example of
irresponsibility and cowardice on the part of a writer is not to be found
anywhere.
A
beta reader is only obligated to do one thing -- provide you with an honest
(and preferably tactful) opinion of your story. It's up to you to take it from
there. This means that if you really believe your beta reader is dead wrong,
you are obligated to do what you believe is right...and accept the praise
or take the fall with grace, no matter how it turns out once the piece is
posted.
You
should consider carefully whatever your beta suggests -- no matter how painful
it may be -- if you don't respect her opinion enough to do that, why are you
bothering? But because it's your story, you shouldn't automatically do
everything the beta tells you or do it exactly the way the beta suggests. Think
it through first. Some of the best critique I've ever received has involved
beta readers rightly complaining about a problem but then suggesting a solution
that I considered completely barf-worthy, which then forced me to find a way to
address the problem that didn't make me want to barf. In other words, faced
with the critique, I had to get more creative than I probably would have if
left to my own devices. In the end it was A Good Thing -- not necessarily
pleasant, but definitely constructive.
The
second overriding principle: Beta reading is a skill that not everyone
possesses. Unfortunately, the people who are really good at it are fairly
rare, and I firmly believe that an incompetent beta reader can and probably
will do your story and your ego a lot more damage than not having one at all. I
cringe every time I see somebody sending out a call for betas to the general
membership of a mailing list or news group. How do you know any of the people
who respond to your request have a clue? Do they themselves know how to spell,
have a good grasp of grammar, understand what makes a decent plot? Yeah, you
might get lucky, but if you don't, then where does that leave you?
You
should also bear in mind that just because someone is a great writer, that
doesn't necessarily guarantee he/she will be a great beta reader. The skills
are in many ways similar, but they're not identical.
And
the third: Skill alone is not enough. Suppose your blanket call for a
beta reader lands you with somebody who is not only willing to do the work but
also very good at it -- however, this individual has a view of the characters
or stories that is diametrically opposed to your own? I once knew a writer who
was working on an X Files series that depicted Fox Mulder as a moron who
wouldn't have gotten through a single day without constant and everlastingly
patient intervention at every step from Dana Scully. (Not my view of the
character, but some will argue it's a valid interpretation.) This writer ended
up with an otherwise-excellent beta reader who had a lot of respect for
Mulder's intelligence and insight, and each of them wasted a lot of time trying
to persuade the other that she was wrong. Why either of them bothered to debate
the point is a mystery to me -- the argument served no purpose. If I had been
the writer, I would've thanked the beta reader for her time and gone looking
for a new reader; if I had been the reader, I would've suggested to the writer
that someone else might do her more good. If either of them had responded that
way, both of them would've been better off.
If
it becomes clear to you at any point that your beta reader doesn't share your
tastes and sensibilities on issues that are integral to the stories you want to
tell, it's time for you to politely excuse yourself and find a new beta reader.
It's just not constructive to do anything else.
Keep
those three things in mind, and you'll be way ahead of the game, but here are a
few more tips for making your life in beta-land more rewarding and pleasant.
- Don't
send unsolicited manuscripts to people you hope will beta them. There's nothing wrong with
asking someone, "Would you be willing to beta my story?" But
attaching the story before the potential beta has a chance to say yes or no is
rude, especially if the story is long and/or you've never corresponded with the
person before. I once received, out of the blue, an unsolicited story that was
a large enough file to corrupt my e-mailbox from someone who was a complete
stranger to me. I bet you can guess what my answer was and in what sort of
terms it was rendered. Even if the person agrees to do it, it's starting off
the relationship on the wrong foot.
- Unless
you are a real masochist, don't ask more than one person to beta the same
story. This
is just begging to have to deal with conflicting and/or contradictory advice.
There's nothing wrong with asking for a second opinion after you've received
the first, but do you really want to have to face one person telling you to do
the opposite of what the other suggests? (I don't know about you, but I can get
confused all by myself -- I don't need any help.) And who's writing this story
-- you, or a committee? It's not necessarily true that if one beta is a good
thing, three will be better. Unless, of course, you happen to have three betas
who always tell you that your stuff is perfect, whether it really is or not,
and you're only using them to stroke your ego... but that's a different problem.
(See immediately below.)
- Don't
waste your time with sycophants. If your beta reader rarely points out anything wrong
in your stuff, he/she is not helping you stretch and grow as a writer. Far be
it from me to deprive anybody of the occasional ego-boost, but if you're sending
stuff to somebody you know will do nothing but praise it, that's nothing but
an ego-boost. It's not really beta-reading at all. While the writer/beta
relationship should be tactful, if not necessarily cordial, in essence its
purpose is to be adversarial. Aren't you in this relationship at least in part
in the hope that your beta will pick holes in the story before you go public
with it?
- Don't
argue or get defensive with your beta reader. The main reason not to do this is that it's
just a pointless waste of time, as well as potentially destructive to the
relationship. And for God's sake, keep any disagreement the two of you may have
private. Taking it public just makes you look like a jerk. If you
strongly disagree with what your beta reader just said about your story, seek a
second opinion, or just write it your way. (Repeat after me seven times: It's
your story, it's your story, it's...) And in a similar vein...
- Be
respectful of your beta reader's viewpoints. In theory, you have selected this person to
read your work because you respect his/her opinion. (Assuming you didn't just
throw your request for a beta-read out to a mailing list and settle for whoever
responded.) When the result comes back, you don't have to agree with it, but
the mere fact that you don't agree doesn't mean the beta doesn't have a right
to his/her own interpretation, just as you do. To cite an obvious example, it's
pointless and disrespectful for you to send a Highlander slash story to
a beta reader who just doesn't see Methos and MacLeod doing that.
- Be
respectful of your beta reader's time. The odds are excellent that your beta reader
doesn't sit in front of her e-mailbox 24/7 waiting with 'bated breath' for your
next opus. Most likely she's got a job or children or an ailing parent or even
a passion for flower arranging -- hell, maybe she just feels like going out to
a movie now and then. She's allowed. Chill. I know you're dying for the
feedback, but even if she doesn't finish reading your 300Kb tome today, the sun will
still rise in the east in the morning. Trust me.
- Don't
assume that you will have the same beta reader for life. Like everybody else, a beta
reader's life can change, possibly overnight. He/she may just get bored with
the fandom in which you're writing. That's allowed, too. It can be distressing
to lose a beta you've come to trust and depend on, but accept that there's
nothing you can do about it. Be adult about it if your beta tells you he/she
just can't keep working on your stuff anymore.
So
how do you locate one of these rare and precious creatures? The best beta
readers I've had have been people with
whom I'd already had several intelligent, insightful, articulate e-mail
exchanges about stories, both mine and those of others, which indicated the
other individual and I shared essentially the same story and character values
and roughly the same views of the series on which the fandom was based. And
then, once I was confident there was enough commonality on which to base some
kind of respectful, trustworthy (if slightly adversarial) relationship, I
e-mailed that person and asked whether he or she was willing to look at
something I'd written.
In
fairness, that method's not infallible. There have been times when, after
sending a few parts of a story to someone, I've realized that the relationship,
for one reason or another, wasn't working out. But it's the best method I've
found, and when it has worked, the results have been quite marvelous. In
general I've been wonderfully lucky to have great betas over the years, and my
stories have been vastly enriched and improved for the sorts of thoughtful
assistance they provided--from merely pointing out a few typos to poking me in
the butt with a sharp piece of reality now and then. Not to mention the
beneficial effect of having my ego deflated occasionally (never fun, but often
therapeutic).
Not
everything I've ever written and posted has had a beta read, but I've never
written anything that couldn't have benefited from one, and I have no reason to
believe that I ever will. (Including this essay, which has not been beta-read.)
If nothing else, quite frankly, I'm not all that good a typist.
And
isn't that what it's all about -- making the stories better... whether it's easy
to do or not?
Used with permission, © 15-Mar-2001 Loch Ness.
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