In offering feedback for dramatic writing, we want to dish out the highest quality information we can for the best possible outcome.

We want to serve the most nutritious food for thought.

In our last article of this series, we talked about how feedback can be downright malnourishing unless we pay close attention to the ingredients: The common criticisms playwrights report about the feedback they receive, what playwrights are looking for when asking for feedback, and what a participant’s role and goal is when giving feedback in workshop.

In this article, we’ll discuss how we originally began a playwright’s feedback session, how that strategy got playwrights feedback that was akin to quick junk food snacks, and what we changed to get playwrights the hearty, tasty meals of information that they craved.

Originally, NWTW began this way too. But playwrights reported that it produced largely fruitless, sugar-coated feedback. After time and experimentation, we resolved the issue by moving away from asking what was good and, instead, asking participants what they thought was interesting about the work. We asked them to state what captured their attention, what made them want to learn more about the characters, setting, ideas, or story; what made them need to keep reading?

Starting the Feedback Session

Workshop feedback sessions often starts by inviting each participant to comment on what was good about the submitted pages. This approach can break the ice, build the writer’s self-esteem, and start the discussion on a positive note.

What is Good vs. What is Interesting

When we first made this change, participants initially slid back into the old habit and focused on “what is good.”

But our workshop hosts discovered that nudging participants to focus on what struck them as interesting yielded more satisfying feedback for playwrights.

Examples over time drove home this point:

Examples from Workshops

Commenting on “What was good?”

• “The bit about the funerals is great. It cracked me up.”

Same participant commenting instead on “What was interesting?”

• “I found it interesting how the two characters grew more connected when sharing their hilarious and horrible experiences they each had at the funerals of family members. It really made it clear why they’re so drawn to each other.”

Commenting on “What was good?”

• “The dialogue is good. It’s easy to distinguish each character’s voice.”

Same participant commenting instead on “What was interesting?”

• “I found the character’s habit of utilizing equations in their speech interesting because it showed a different aspect of their personality while still keeping the character consistent. This is the person who used to tell me math jokes and I only listened to them so they’d let me cheat off in them in class.”

Other “What was interesting?” Examples

• “I didn’t find it to be ‘good’ per se, but I really found it interesting how the character’s comments about his college apps implied to me that there is a connection between his desperation to be liked by everyone and his desperation to be accepted into every college he applied to.”

• A participant commented how a mother character’s interactions with her daughter were interesting because they revealed why the daughter had such a strong need for independence. Although the feedback was positive, the playwright admitted this observation was not what they were attempting to accomplish with the scene—yet it was so specific, the feedback clarified which of their choices caused the scene to go off target. The feedback made it easy for the playwright to see how to tweak the scene and hit their intended mark.

NWTW used this technique in its early workshops as well, but playwrights reported that the format often led participants into giving feedback that was vague and opinionated. When discussions naturally evolved out of the popcorn feedback, it was common for the discussion to become a conversation on how the playwright should “fix” the script, or about how one or more of the participants could write it better themselves—which, or course, is the exact kind of feedback playwrights were trying to avoid.