I confess I did not know what a Beta Reader was for a long time, but I did use them on a regular basis: I just didn’t know what they were. Shyly, I would offer my books to my sisters, hoping they would come back with some kind of feedback, or at least “I enjoyed it”. I trusted them to give me a broad-picture review. I didn’t need deep, line-by-line criticism – that often came later from other sources – but I did need someone to take the high level and tell me if the story was enjoyable or just plain sucked and should be shelved or fully re-written.
My most valuable feedback I’ve ever received came from my sister (who is now also a writer – shout out to Renee Dahlia!)
I love pirates, and after watching Cutthroat Island (Geena Davis and Mathew Modine, underrated schlocky fun but also rather brilliantly terrible) I wanted to write my own pirate epic. So I did, and I was so proud of it. I loved this book and still do, and I sent it off to Renee and said “tell me what you think”.
I got one line back:
“You can’t throw the goat into the boat.”
What? What was she talking about?
The shout frightened a goat a sailor was trying to load onto the ship. It bleated, struggled and caused both goat and sailor to splash into the water. Leo rushed to help him and the goat out.
On the deck of the ship there was a moment where nothing happened, and then a man came out of the main hatch. He looked no different to any other sailor in the Caribbean, apart from the abnormally large, plumed hat perched on his head. He watched, amused, as Leo threw the goat onto the dockside, Whistle caught it, and both sailors heaved themselves onto the wharf.
I read this over and over. I had no idea what Renee meant. I phoned her. “What are you talking about? Isn’t that hilarious? The goat fell into the water, and he jumped in, and can’t you see him splashing around with his arms around this animal… it’s supposed to be funny.”
“How deep is the water?” she asked, patient but exasperated.
“Deep enough for a ship,” I said.
“Uh-huh. And is he treading water, while holding onto the goat?”
“I suppose…”
“Have you ever tried to throw something, even a ball, while treading water?”
With sudden, awful clarity, I realized what she meant. “Yep, got it,” I said, and hung up.
Sometimes you’ll write things that seem like great ideas at the time, and you love them, but they can actually be a bump in the road, the stub of a toe that jerks a reader out of the story completely, and they can’t let go of it. That’s where a good beta reader will be invaluable, especially in the first draft. They’re someone you trust to let you know where your roadblocks are, where your book rises or falls, or where it’s just missing things.
When you write, you forget how much you live inside your own head, inside your own world. If you’re like me, and you have maps and charts and notes about characters, you might not realise how little you’re writing those down, or, conversely, that you are including too much, perhaps. It’s helpful to have someone who can read it and honestly give feedback. You can choose to keep it or ignore it, that’s always up to you. I’m happy to receive criticism. It makes my ideas fizz, and I have to find solutions for the breaks in the text that they can see and I can’t.
And sometimes, you just need someone to tell you not to throw the goat into the boat.