Bri Castellini - The Rogue MFA

Bri CastelliniMay 21, 2026

How To Give Feedback on Creative Writing in Person

So that people actually listen… and you get better feedback in return

If you can’t give feedback constructively, your writing community is unlikely to offer it back in return, which you need in order to become a stronger writer. Just because you’re “right” doesn’t mean it’s a good note, and while it’s straightforward enough to fix a grammatical error, when actually talking to another writer about their work and getting philosophical about it, there are more things you’ll want to consider before opening your damn mouth.

Start with the positives

Never start a feedback message, verbal session, or email with critique. It sets the wrong tone and immediately puts the other person on the defensive.

If you can find nothing nice to say, nothing the writer has succeeded in, then perhaps in the future you shouldn’t continue your feedback relationship with this person. Though if you can’t find a single thing nice to say, you probably aren’t looking hard enough. However, you still aren’t released from this requirement. Don’t lie to them, but if you must, dig deep:

Is the premise strong?
Do you like the character, or see potential in one?
Is the setting interesting?

There must have been a reason (outside of if you’re in school and forced to interact with this person) you decided to swap critiques.

In my foolish youth, I used to hate this advice. “If I don’t remark on it, I must have liked it or found nothing wrong with it! Everyone’s so sensitive!” Thankfully I’ve distanced myself from my libertarian upbringing, and also, realized I was a hypocrite. We share work to get better at our craft, absolutely, but it would be a lie to say we share it only for that reason. We’re also looking for validation that we’re on the right track, and even a single encouraging comment before a brutal critique session can be the inspiration we need to keep at it, to keep growing and improving.

Not to mention- you also want the writer to know what to keep!

It’s not just a kindness to start with compliments; it also makes the other person more receptive to notes. Would you trust notes from someone who finds nothing redeemable, apparently, about the work? Probably not. For the same reason I don’t trust notes on romance novels from my grandma who hates romance novels, I don’t trust notes from people who can’t find even one nice thing to say.

Ask yourself: what are they writing?

I would say the number one reason why feedback is rejected is because it’s not in line with the reality of the piece. This can manifest in a few ways, like a romance author getting feedback that it’s weird how often the characters have internal monologues referencing how attractive they find the other person, or a horror writer who gets notes about how in order to appeal to all ages, maybe they should dial back the blood and gore.

I’ve also seen this be problematic even more broadly, and it usually comes from this: the person giving feedback is attempting to shape the in-progress work to what they would write/would prefer to read, rather than helping it become the piece it intends to be. Occasionally the best thing to do is walk away with regrets- “I don’t think I’m the right audience for this piece, so my feedback would likely not be relevant.”

However, I think that feedback from sources less intimately familiar with the genre or format of the piece can be enlightening (to a degree), so it’s worth taking the time, before you start making comments in their document, to really ask yourself the question: what is this? What does it want to be? And how can my feedback help it be a better version of what it already is?

Be specific and actionable

“This is bad/not working” is not a real note. How can you make your feedback ACTIONABLE? What are you actually encouraging the writer to DO with your note? Change a word? Rethink a character motivation? Add a scene? Remove one?

Dig deeper when you’re explaining yourself- WHY is something not working for you? The fact that it’s not working is useful, but until you give them context for why not, you’re asking them to build IKEA furniture in the dark. They now know their first attempt was wrong, and they have all the pieces to get the fifteen differently shaped screws into the correct places, but wouldn’t this all be easier if you brought them a flashlight?

Only offer suggestions when asked

It’s often more constructive to let the person receiving feedback come up with their own solutions to a creative note, because at the end of the day, it’s their piece. Not yours. A writer interpreting someone else’s detailed instructions will always be less inspired (and likely less integrated with the rest of the piece) than someone taking a note and finding a way to interpret it within the context of what they’re already trying to do.

Of course, sometimes people want a suggestion. Sometimes they’re stuck, or they’re simply struggling to find the screw (THANKS, IKEA. THEY ALL LOOK THE SAME) with just a flashlight to guide them. I still maintain you shouldn’t have a singular “this is the right idea” pitch when you’re not a co-writer and are just meant to be a sounding board, so in that case, have two or three pitches. Give them some options, to show them they aren’t stuck and to ensure that there’s still a level of agency in their creative decision-making.

Even better, even when solicited, play the favorite game of every teacher that every student hates (but secretly benefits from): refuse to answer, and ask them questions. Go back a scene or two, interrogating the writer on what the engines of those earlier, working segments, were doing. Look at what comes next, and ask about the different ways and reasons to connect the disparate segments.

You have to let them find their own answers, even if you need to add a few new flashlights to the search (IKEA metaphor again, keep up!). Because ultimately, the only person who’s capable of turning on the overhead light is the writer themselves. As soon as you’re the one flipping that switch, it’s not their GRÖNKULLA anymore, it’s yours.

Your taste is not infallible

It’s easy to get caught up offering feedback to someone else to make their work more your taste/vision. Even when you’re collaborators, you aren’t going to get your way 100% of the time, and that doesn’t make the other people wrong. It makes them different.

Giving notes is vulnerable, and I don’t want to invalidate that. It’s less vulnerable than receiving them, obviously, but offering encouragement and advice on someone’s work is still a creative exercise. So just remember that this process isn’t personal, and at the end of the day, the work you’re thinking deeply about isn’t yours. You might disagree with how someone implements your feedback (or refuses to), but it’s not your work, and it’s important you remember that before you dig in.

Writers could stand to be less defensive about getting feedback, but editors and readers have some deep breathing exercises to do as well. I’ve seen feedback-givers foaming at the mouth, doggedly harassing a writer with the same note over and over in successive sessions after revisions have been made because the writer decided to reject it.

It’s one thing if the fundamental issue hasn’t been fixed, at which point you should probably revise the way you’re giving the note, but your particular note is not special or sacred, and this is not your piece of writing. [Olaf voice] Let it go.

Bri CastelliniMay 19, 2026

How To Take Feedback on your Creative Writing

Art is subjective, and it’s also intensely personal. Intellectually we all understand these things, and that criticism and notes are a necessary part of improving your craft, but emotionally it can be tough to stop ourselves from arguing against every possible suggestion. I feel you, defensive dudes. I am you. If you called me argumentative in front of my mother, she’d ask if you were really talking about her daughter, because “argumentative” is putting it way too lightly.

Feel like you’re not getting much/enough out of feedback sessions with other writers? Let’s talk about it.

Don’t Pre-Bias Anyone

It’s important not to be so hyper-focused (especially in earlier drafts) on what you want feedback on that you signal what elements in your project you aren’t as confident in, biasing your audience to solely focus on that. When you simply present your work as-is, it makes it possible for note-givers to take in the work free of expectation. Then, when they do or don’t bring something up, you’ll either be validated in your concerns or pleasantly surprised it isn’t as big of a deal as you worried.

It’s a fine line, because I agree with Kelly that you should have some semblance of guidance to give your readers, so I try to align how specific I am with instructions depending on draft phase and the person giving notes.

With a note-giver I’ve worked with before and an early draft, I’ll establish the themes/elements of the project I’m most excited and challenged by without offering specific details, page numbers, etc. That way, they know where my head’s at and can meet me there, giving us an aligned mission statement.

With a newer note-giver and early draft, I’ll keep it even more vague, since I don’t know their taste or perspective yet and want to learn it without biasing them.

Read Everything, Then Take a Walk

I get intense anxiety when I get an email of notes, both from the general fear of the unknown (did they like it??) and from the more specific fear of if this will be the email to put the final nail into my writing career’s coffin. Then I’ll read a note or two, see red if I disagree with even an ounce of it, and seethe before finishing consuming the advice days later, strung out and emotionally exhausted.

In an attempt to be less Like That, I’ve found it can be helpful to suck it up, read the entire message of notes, and then log off and take a walk. No podcasts, music, or mobile games—just walk. Let the notes, and all the feelings they bring to the surface, sink in. Get mad, get sad, spiral into existential dread, then take a deep breath and remember that we asked for these notes, we want our writing to improve, and the person who graciously took time out of their day for us is just trying to help.

It doesn’t completely cure the defensiveness, but it helps.

Shut Up

When you’re getting notes in person or on the phone, you can’t really take a beat for a walk and re-centering, so I’ve found the next best thing is to, simply, shut it. When you’re getting feedback from more than one person, you’ll get far more out of the session (and be far less combative with very nice people taking time out of their day to do this with you) by listening more than you talk.

Really, this comes down to a single consideration- how do you want to spend your time… arguing with your feedback givers, or hearing what they have to say?

You can answer questions, sparingly, but it’s far more valuable that you know how people answer their own questions without your input, since you won’t always be in the room when audiences experience your work. The insights of how an audience interprets things that aren’t clear to them are an invaluable part of this process- there’s no right or wrong, there’s just an honest reaction, and then it’s up to you to figure out how to either course-correct that reaction or lean in.

Caveat- just because you stay quiet doesn’t mean your truth doesn’t matter, or that you should put up with being marginalized by writers without your lived experience crapping all over your hard work. But part of listening is deciding if this is even the right feedback group for you in the first place, and also, it’ll tell you who is and isn’t your true audience. My point here is not that you should shut up and let other people tell you what’s what, but rather, that by inserting yourself too frequently, you’re losing the opportunity to hear how people honestly reacted to your work and what misconceptions they were left with that you’ll want to shore up in the next draft they may not even realize they’re incorrect about.

Look Deeper

No matter how practiced or well-meaning, there comes a moment in every feedback interaction where the person giving notes makes a suggestion or pitch to improve the work. This is where most defensiveness stems from, because the easy reaction is to argue about why that suggestion doesn’t work or make sense. A-ha! You think. Finally, the truth comes out—they don’t understand me or my vision and thus it’s already perfect as-is!

I’m sorry to break this to you, but their suggestion doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s a great idea, maybe it’s a terrible idea, but in the end, it doesn’t matter. They aren’t rewriting this story—you are. So, if you disagree with the suggestion, the disagreement is not the point. Instead of arguing about a suggestion made, your job is to try to understand the root of the suggestion so you can solve the underlying problem in your own way.

Example:

Suggestion: You should make the talking iguana a talking owl, actually.

Defensiveness impulse: They can’t be an owl! There’s already a talking owl character in the third act, and I don’t want to undermine that reveal. You fool. You worm.

CURIOSITY DRIVEN response: That’s really interesting. What’s not working about this character being a talking iguana for you? And how/why would an owl fix that problem for you?

The defensiveness impulse is correct, but again, that’s not the point. Something isn’t translating, and you can’t fix the problem by convincing them their suggestion is wrong, only by understanding the core of why they felt the suggestion was necessary in the first place.

Of course, sometimes people just want an entirely different book. That’s a failing of the feedback-giver (more on that here), and learning to sort through feedback that’s valid for what you’re trying to do and valid for what they’re trying to read is the work of time and experience. My best advice is to get broader feedback before making a change that feels fundamental in an uncomfortable way, and use those extra data points to make your ultimate decision.

Remember Why You’re Here

At the end of the day, the goal of receiving feedback should not be validation, even if it’s what we all secretly want. Don’t fish for compliments, as that’s not a productive use of anyone’s time. Be genuinely interested in and open to how to improve your work so it communicates your vision as clearly as possible to the greatest number of people, and remember: we do this because stories matter to us.

So, ask for what you need without biasing people, take some time before responding if you can, otherwise listen closely and look deeper than the surface level suggestions. Your defensiveness is only hurting your relationships with other artists and the work you care so much about.

Learn more about The Rogue MFA and our community here. When you’re ready to rock, join our Writing Community Hour over on The Rogue MFA YouTube channel (which meets every other Thursday evening at 4pm PST/ 7pm EST), where we’ll be building routine and community with YOU. Subscribe to get notified, and if you’re even a little bit interested, please fill out our quick survey so we can expand these in the future with you in mind.

Bri CastelliniApril 23, 2026

5 Epistolary Elements For Finding Your Character’s Voice

When lacking primary source documents for clarity… create your own!

I love epistolary novels so much I wrote my undergraduate thesis on them. While the spirit hasn’t moved me to do a fully epistolary story in years, the unique opportunity for character-development via their primary source documents remains a vital part of my writing process (and my reading preferences). Sometimes, these elements make it into the final draft. Sometimes, they remain as brainstorming content in the background that I might trot out eventually as bonus content.

Regardless, including epistolary elements in character design is more than a gimmick.

First, some questions to ask yourself

What primary source documents does my character create most often?
1. Are they a list-maker or a sporadic out-of-context sentence recorder? Do they write letters longhand, or uphold a years-long email correspondence with a friend? Do they prefer email or Slack/Microsoft Teams for work communication?
Do they use proper punctuation in texts, or slang and abbreviations and emojis?
1. For my historical baddies- what’s their handwriting like? Sloppy and rushed, elegant and measured? Do they use a fun sign-off when sending letters, or stick to a classic “Yours”?
How might I contrast what they say/record in private versus what they’re thinking?
1. And, even better, what they say/commit to writing that others will see versus what’s kept private? Much character can be found in the contrasts!

Next, some epistolary prompts

Journals, diaries, or private blogs
1. A classic for a reason! These can be an unfiltered goldmine of insights about your character, their thought process, what they feel is useful to record, and how they’re feeling in the moment. The trouble is that most adults don’t keep these, certainly not in contemporary, so your prompt may be- if they kept a journal, what would they be talking about in it?
Recent text history
1. Think back to the character interview prompts we talked about earlier in the month, and your character’s community in particular. What are the last 2 or 3 text conversations they’ve had? Are they purely practical, like letting a neighbor know they accepted a package for them, or a thread that’s just “Happy Birthday! // Thank You!” twice a year with no messages in between? Do they have a group thread where they share their Wordle results? Is their mom texting them incessantly, to crickets?
Lists
1. What’s on their grocery list, or daily to-do list? What calendar events appear in a typical week? Are they hyper-specific about their lists, naming quantities/brands/flavors, or do they make do with “milk & breakfast stuff”? Do they have a bucket list, or New Years Resolutions they’re working through? Do they actually follow these lists, or just make them to feel in control and then forget all about them?
Calendar/Daily Planner
1. Are they so anal about their calendar they even schedule in bathroom breaks, or is this more a place to generally remind themselves when they’re meant to be somewhere? Do they meal plan and have what they’re eating listed here? Are there recurring reminders of some kind (“Tuesday- Take Out Trash”)? Is it color-coded?
Goodreads/Letterboxd
1. What are their recent reads & watches (or favorite reads/watches of all time) and, if they’re inclined to share this sort of thing, what were their reviews? What media are they consuming, and is it because they sought it out or because someone recommended it to them/dragged them to something?
  1. Side note: if you’re writing a male character whose favorite book is Infinite Jest or whose favorite movie is Fight Club, I do consider that a red flag

If there’s a place for this in your final manuscript, great! I’m always going to be in favor of epistolary flavor. But even if there’s not a natural place in your writing style to slot in a letter, crafting these documents as a brainstorming exercise will tell you so much about your character, their voice, their priorities, and their point of view, all of which are things you’ll need to figure out anyways.

Want a full template with even more unique prompts for character development? Our paid subscribers at Substack get all of our templates included – past and future!

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