Earlier this year, I read a story in the literary magazine The Masters Review. I often struggle with fiction marketed as “literary”, and wasn’t expecting to find a story so compelling that when I ran out of train journey I couldn’t quite put it down. I finished the last few pages while walking down a crowded platform, which is incidentally a terrible idea. Do not do this.
After a bit of dithering, I dropped an email to the author telling them how much I’d enjoyed the story, and why. The dithering was largely because I assume writers getting published in heavy-hitters like The Masters Review will be deluged with praise all the time, and are probably fed up with total strangers landing in their inbox to gush and have opinions at them.
I got back a genuinely lovely reply, which among other things suggested that (at least in this case!) this is not true. The author gave every impression of having been delighted to receive an out-of-the-blue compliment from someone on the other side of the world.
Having let my first proper, published story loose in the world a few months ago I, as a very minor and beginner author, was overjoyed to hear from people who liked it. Especially people who told me why, or pulled out something particular to comment on. My favourite bit of feedback remains the email from an old friend who, in between complaining about IT problems and updating me on his kids, simply wrote “loved this bit” and quoted a single sentence. It was my own favourite sentence from the entire story.
Since then I’ve been trying to do a better job of telling people that I like their stuff. On Twitter, it’s easy to share something, say how good it is, and tag the creator in so that they catch it. I’ve had a few lovely interactions on Twitter recently with people whose work I’ve enjoyed.
My guide to telling someone you like their stuff is simple: be honest, be kind. Be specific, and say what you liked or why - it’s much more meaningful than a blanket “that was great”. Don’t necessarily expect a reply. Don’t offer critical feedback (unless they asked for it, in which case knock yourself out).
Now, go forth and praise the good stuff.