The Seven Stages of Giving Your Manuscript to Beta Readers for Feedback
An incredibly accurate but completely unscientific review that will probably not make it into the DSM-V.
I just finished the 7th draft of my novel manuscript. That’s right, draft number seven. If you believe that particular number is lucky, then please send all of those positively superstitious vibes my way, because I’ll admit that I would love for this to be the final draft. I’m very ready to do something else with my free time besides revision and re-outlining for a little bit.
But in reality, I know that this is just one of many, many versions my manuscript will go through, especially if I go the traditional publishing route. And I want this to be the best it can be before I resubmit to the agent who gave me a revise and resubmit, or R+R, and then query it more widely to other agents. So with that in mind, I recently sent my 7th draft off to a number of beta readers, also known as people who will read my manuscript in a certain timeframe and give me targeted feedback on how to make it better–and, in particular, to cut it down from its current length of 97,200 words (I know, I know).
Photo credit: My Canva pro subscription and the emoji library. This is not actually my working title, more an expression of my feelings at the current stage in my editorial process.
For those of you who are writers and have not reached this stage yet–or those of you who are smart enough to never go through the book-writing process–here is an incredibly accurate but completely unscientific review of the stages you go through when giving your novel manuscript to beta readers for feedback.
Relief and/or exhaustion. “Oh thank GOD that’s done. I deserve a break. I’m gonna kick my feet back and wait for the feedback to come rolling in–never mind, I still have life stuff to take care of and a day job.”
Distraction. “How many ways can I avoid thinking about what my beta readers must think of my manuscript? I know, I’ll reorganize the cabinet under my bathroom sink. Maybe I’ll find a new workout routine. Or maybe I’ll finally watch [INSERT STREAMING SERVICE SHOW]!”
Denial. “I just won’t think about it. Out of sight, out of mind. Except for right now, I’m just going to go back to the sent email and look at the attachment of my manuscript and…immediately find a typo I didn’t catch when I was doing my exhaustive final spell check. Shit!”
Anticipation. “Did my phone just vibrate? Is that a text with feedback? Maybe I should just refresh my email one more time. Couldn’t hurt to check their Instagram either. Maybe they’re posting their reaction faces in real time as they read my manuscript. Wouldn’t that be funny? Except that’s dumb. They have lives, too. Also Instagram just sent me a helpful notification that I’ve already spent 30 minutes on the app today. Ignore.”
Existential dread. “What if they hate it? What if they’re secretly rolling their eyes at every cheesy word on the page? What if this is stupid? What if I have to start over? What if this dream I’ve had since I could hold a pencil isn’t worth anything and I’m a hack?”
Euphoria, Cringe, Nothing in Between. “Oh my God, feedback! THEY LOVE THIS PART. They…hated this part. THIS PART MADE THEM LAUGH! This part is ‘not believable.’ Oh….oh my God…feedback.”
Gratitude. “I can’t believe people are willing to read something I wrote for 90,000+ words and actually tell me what they thought about it. Even if it hurts my ego. I love them.”
I’m currently cycling through this with a couple of different people, but after all of these stages, there’s one, final, very important eighth stage: butt back in chair. This means sitting back down, looking for common threads in everyone’s feedback, and incorporating it into the (gulp) eighth draft.
To everyone who has read my manuscript so far, at any stage: THANK YOU. Your thoughts give me so much anxiety and bring me so much joy. I can’t wait to show the world the final product that you made possible.
*Yes, I realize that friends and spouses are not going to be the most unbiased source of feedback. I’ve learned that the last thing you want to hear from anyone critiquing your manuscript is “it’s great, no notes!” because that ultimately doesn’t help. But hearing anything critical from spouses or friends is really hard, too. Thankfully, I’m friends with and married to incredibly kind, thoughtful people who will both tell me how great I am and point out inconsistencies in timelines.