When you read a new novel or short story, it evokes a response, most times emotional, sometimes clinical. You may revel in each new story until the author disappoints you, or you may seek reasons to put the book down unless reluctantly persuaded to continue. Whatever type of story is immaterial. This is how you read, which is not to be confused with how one critiques.

The key here is the emotion created in you. You may feel the need to rant following a rather lengthy dialogue that didn’t seem to matter to the story, or you may be provoked into nostalgia that tears you from the page. You may laugh out loud in a public place and, after a hasty moment, reconsider explaining yourself to the crowd. As you work through the prose, whether you are whippet fast or basset hound slow, your opinion of it evolves. The end result, to you, is more important than the story’s actual end.

What this produces is the subjective critique; the review we fashion from our experience of reading this story—and every other story we have read that might influence our perception. For example, reading CS Lewis’ Narnia series after JRR Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings would form an opinion far different from the reaction if your order of perusal was reversed. This is not to say that either response is right or wrong. It is, specifically, yours. More to the point, this personal effect is disconnected from the fair and supportive review you would likely wish to offer the author.

At the same time, the author must come to grips with the knowledge that every reader’s opinion is valid. Even as he latches onto the least praise, he also seeks precise direction in which to improve the failings within the story. This mismatch between opinion and necessity often defeats the congenial intentions of the reviewer.

As a reader, you know what you enjoy, even if you don’t always know why. Commonly, your preference in reading material is about style, and very few accomplished writers are in the practice of altering their style. Imagine a new writer, trying to find the best approach in which to write, and being pushed to write in 3 new techniques, based on what you and other reviewers like. Or a more advanced author, having spent the last 5 years working on descriptive prose when, in your opinion, she should have been improving her pacing.

The reviewer should remember that their opinion, while important, is not the function of the critique. The purpose is for the writer to improve, and one’s fondness for open-ended stories does not mean this should have one, too, but perhaps its continuity suffered in the end because a plot point was not explained properly. The craft of the writer did not drop because you truly dislike stories written from multiple POVs. Instead, she may have chosen the wrong POV for a few chapters.

Remind yourself that the author is less interested in how you feel than how you explain. More times than not, the reasons a reviewer doesn’t like a story are personal, and clarification of that (without actual details, mind you), will remove some anxiety. In telling a writer that you weren’t able to finish his story, try to offer reasoning that can be translated into improvements.

Most of these confusions are unavoidable, but a little understanding from the side that has less invested can ease the pain of the subjective critique.

Related posts:

1. Funny as a Critique: Hilarity Meets Structure