Only recently I was invited to review someone’s first work of Fiction. I dithered on whether I should or should not take up the responsibility, because that is what it is, a monumental responsibility of giving feedback on someone else’s work. For me, I welcome critics, but that does not mean I don’t feel the sting of criticism, and I imagine anyone who creates something – for writer’s are, after all, artists, and creators of world’s – feels the same sting, probably differing in degrees, depending on how thick or thin their skin. But I took it up anyway, with a swelled chest, for being asked to give my opinion meant that my opinion was, and is, valued.
The work turned out to be fantasy fiction, a genre I’m usually not too keen on reading. I did enjoy the book though, even though it was a first draft and needed a fair bit of reworking. Told the lady who wrote it as much, and thankfully she took all criticism with grace, or at least pretended to. But she does continue to ask me inputs on further changes, so I now believe she genuinely appreciates my inputs. Which is well and good. When I finish the first draft of my first novel in December, I’ll stick it to her for critique, all 50,000 words of shit. 🙂