In the previous celebration post of my top 10 tips overall, the final tip was to join the circle of writers: our creativity flourishes best together. A vital part of that is giving and receiving feedback well. Over the last ten years, I've given feedback on well over a thousand pieces of writing and I've learnt a lot about giving feedback that genuinely helps people. In my own writing groups, I'm both giving and receiving feedback: being on the receiving end is essential for my own writing and to remember what it's like for my students. So gathering all of that together, here are my 10 best tips for giving and receiving feedback.

1 Ask questions

When you give someone writing for feedback, say what you want feedback on. Tell them what level draft it is, eg first draft, reworked but not edited, almost-final draft, so they know where to pitch their feedback. If there's a typo in a first draft, you don't need to know; almost-final draft, that's useful info. Then ask questions. Useful questions for fiction might be...

What do you think of x character?
Did the tension lag in any bits? Did any parts feel too expository?
What do you guess / suspect will happen next?
Is the voice consistent?
Where could I add more description?
Middle 2 paragraphs of pg 3: I'm debating cutting these. What do you think?

For poetry, questions might be...

What mood does it evoke for you?
What's your interpretation of what it's about?
What does the reference to x mean to you?
Which do you think are the strongest / weakest lines?
What do you think of x-y rhyme pairing?
How does the metre flow for you?

Keep your questions open-ended, avoiding spoilers and yes/no answers. For example, instead of "Can you tell Y is the murderer?" ask "Who are you most suspicious of?" Instead of "Is X-character coming across as intelligent enough?" ask "How is X-character coming across?" For characters, the three-traits test is good: everyone in the group writes down three character traits for that character, then compares. That gives a great cross-section of views – plus if people are struggling to think of three, you know the character isn't clearly defined yet.

These questions are important for the people giving feedback, so they know what to comment on. They're equally useful for you: thinking carefully about what questions to ask gives you new insight into your writing. It also acts as a lovely safety net while you're writing. If I'm having a difficult-words day or feeling insecure, I dash down the questions to ask my writing group, then carry on, knowing their help will be coming in the future.

You're also allowed to ask for positive feedback only. If something's tentative first-draft, you don't need to know the characterisation's still weak or pages 2-4 are all exposition: you need to know which stuff is exciting and interesting. You need enthusiastic readers who'll help you spot the possibilities.

Finally, put your questions at the end of the piece. Let the reader form their opinions then see what you want feedback on. Often, in our group, we find we've flagged things up before reaching the question on that issue, which is an extra confirmation it needs sorting out.

2 Say what's good

The first time my students give me work for feedback in a course, the instruction sheet says "DON'T PANIC" (in large friendly letters) and then "You're not being marked on your work: I’ll tell you what’s working well in it and give you suggestions to improve it." Sometimes students joke about the "shit-sandwich" approach: the idea that to give negative feedback, you start and end with positives. But that's not what it's about, in writing feedback. Yes, hearing positives makes it easier to take negative feedback on board, but saying what's good in writing is 100% valuable in itself. We need to be told what's good because we don't already know. In a first draft, you often can't tell. By third or fourth draft, something you worked hard on at the start is so familiar you've forgotten it's even doing something important. If you're cutting your writing down for length (I'm a chronic over-writer), it's a Godsend to have the group's feedback on which are the best bits, so you know to keep those.

Saying what's good in someone else's writing is also one of the best ways for you to improve as a writer. Spotting flaws is much easier than spotting what someone's doing right. Flaws stand out more. We're trained to look for the negatives. And we spot the flaws in areas we're already good at. If your dialogue is excellent, you see in an instant that someone else's is clunky. But spin it round. If your dialogue is poor, can you spot good dialogue? Seeing what other people are doing well teaches you far more than seeing where they're not as good as you. Everyone wins.

3 Say what could be improved

This is the second half of what I promise my students. Hearing what's good is essential, but so are suggestions for how to develop. If something is unclear or confusing, if the tension lags, if you genuinely can't make head or tail of a poem, that’s part of feedback. When a writing group or writing-buddy relationship becomes too "kind", it slowly stagnates – and it's not actually kind, because it's not helping each other progress.

That said, be gentle in your delivery. Talk about the writing, your response to it and understanding of it, not about the author. It helps to use “it” and “I” language, not “you”. Instead of “You lost me on pg 3” say “I found pg 3 a bit confusing”. Instead of “All your exposition is slowing down the story” say “It has a lot of exposition, which is slowing down the story.” We identify strongly with our writing so a critique can feel personal: help it stay focused on the piece. And remember to stick to the brief, ie their questions: if someone's submitted first draft and doesn't want line-by-line feedback, don't go in with your editorial red pen, Just because you've spotted something doesn't mean it needs flagging up now.

4 Listen and consider

When you're receiving feedback, it's tempting to jump in and say "So what I was trying to do there was..." or "I need to put that in because..." Bite your tongue for a bit. In some groups, we've even had a rule that the writer isn't allowed to speak for the first ten minutes. That helps the feedback stay focused on what's actually there on the page, not what the writer meant to be there. It also helps you listen and process your first responses, especially if you're feeling defensive. Nod, thank people, make notes. Once you've listened fully, you can ask follow-up questions: "I do need some of the stuff about lemons as set-up for later: do you think it would work if I just kept x line?" "I can see the character's not coming across the way I intended. Which bits made her seem hostile, to you?" and so on.

The other part is to consider. No-one's feedback is the Word of God engraved on stone tablets. It's another writer's opinion. If you disagree strongly, don't chuck it out immediately: sit with it a bit, sleep on it, think it over. Consider it. And if you consider it's wrong, then you can dismiss it.

5 Feedback should help people write more

I've had a number of students join a course with serious scars from past feedback from other courses or agencies. Often they've stopped writing for years. The thought of getting feedback again has made some of them shake and nearly cry. I'm in awe of their bravery, that they have still signed up for a writing course, that they're giving me their writing to read, however fearfully. And I am Mother-Bear furious with the people who did that to them.

Feedback should help people write more. The single biggest factor in improving our writing is writing more. All the theory, tips of the trade, and craft-of-writing books in the world are useless unless we're writing lots. We don't have to figure out every writing trick ourselves, through trial and error, but we do need to use them in our writing – which means we need to be writing. If someone's feedback stops a person writing, that feedback is a complete failure. It doesn't matter how clever it is, how "insightfully" it "identified the problem": it has failed at its fundamental purpose.

Remember this, if you've had or if you get feedback that quashes you: the person giving the feedback has failed, not you. To avoid ever giving feedback like that, all these tips will help, plus a few other pointers. First, pitch your feedback to the person's level. Look at where they are in their writing development right now, and choose areas to improve that are within their grasp. Second, be selective: don't detail every single aspect that could be improved; focus on the things that will make the biggest difference. We are all always developing as writers, but we can't develop on every front at once. And we'll develop best by continuing to write.

6 Think growth not talent

One student, who's also my oldest friend, told me, "Your feedback's always so helpful for improving stuff, but it's so positive that I don't know if I'm any good at writing." We had a slightly puzzled conversation, because I'd just told her, in her written feedback, what was good in her writing and what could do with work. Eventually she said, "But what if someone's just really bad? Would you tell them?" Then I realised we were coming at the question from completely opposite ends.

There's no such thing as a bad writer. There's no such thing as a good writer. There's no such thing as talent. There are people who have some slight advantage – for instance, learning to read young and growing up in a wordy household, which creates more exposure to language, so their early work is ahead of their peers, so they're encouraged and praised, so they do more, and continue to, in the constant sunlight of admiration... That's just getting good by doing something lots and being encouraged, but it gets mistaken for talent.

We all develop as writers. Would I tell someone their writing is "bad"? No. Nor would I think that. It's at a particular level of development. I'd tell them what's good in it and make suggestions to improve it. As I told my friend that evening, some of my students producing fantastic quality work, publishable and/or published, gave me intial submissions that she'd call "bad". If I'd cut them off then, they'd never have had a chance to develop. If a student wants to know if a particular piece is ready to be sent out for publication, that's a different question, which still isn't about them being good/bad, but how developed that particular piece is. None of it's about being "good" or "bad", it's about developing.

I've learnt to reflect that in my language, when I give feedback. In the early days, I'd say "You have a talent for description" or "You have a flair for dialogue", and so on. Sounds encouraging, right? Actually, it's unhelpful and even insulting. It insults the work they put in to write that description and dialogue: it didn't "come naturally", they did that. And it doesn't help them. Next time they're stuck with their dialogue or description, what should they think? That they've lost their flair, their talent? If I recognise the work they did and say what they did to make that bit good, then they can do that again next time, when it's coming less easily. These days, my feedback will read more like this: "You've written very natural dialogue, by using contractions and leaving out unnecessary words. The way you imply x, rather than explaining it, gives us a sense of how well they know each other." and so on. And it feels a hell of a lot better to be praised for the specific choices you've made than to be told you're "talented".

7 Set time and length limits

Whether you're writing buddies, a writing group, or a teacher taking in work for feedback, set strict length limits on how much someone can send in. Our group of 4–5, which meets weekly, has an upper limit of 4000 words. (Introduced to keep me in check!) For student submissions, I limit it to 2000 words of prose or one poem of 40 lines. Likewise, set time limits for when stuff need to be sent by, if you're reading each other's work before you meet, and set time limits for how long you spend on each person's work. These may seem like humdrum logistical points compared to the other tips, but they're the basis of a healthy long-lasting writing group or buddy arrangement: clear boundaries which keep it doable for everyone. Reading other people's work takes time, talking about it takes time, we all have other things we need to slot it around. Respecting everyone's time keeps the relationships harmonious.

8 Be careful who you ask for feedback

You show your family and friends your writing, and they read it. (Result!) You say eagerly, "What do you think?" and they say, "I liked it." You push for more feedback. Striving to be helpful, they start to criticise it. They point out typos, tell you they don't like the genre, flag up a swear word a character used... The experience is upsetting for everyone and discouraging for the writer.

Non-writers are usually hopeless at giving feedback – and fair enough. You have to know a lot of the machinations of writing to give useful feedback and being a reader isn't enough. I'm a driver, but I couldn't give a car mechanic feedback on their work; all I can say is "It's making a funny noise" or "The noise is gone now." It's not fair to expect our family and friends to give us helpful feedback, especially when a piece is still developing. If you want help, ask fellow writers. If you don't have a writers' group or a writing buddy, set one up. Lots of students on my courses form writing groups at the end of the course, and anyone who's been on the courses can join the Slack / Facebook community, to find people to form groups with.

Be especially careful not to ask for feedback when you actually want praise, validation, or just to share your world. It's easy to fall into this trap with parents and partners / love-interests: we say "What do you think?" when we mean "Look what I made!" So use your writer-words to say what you really mean: "I'm so pleased with this poem and I wanted to share it." "I'm having so much fun creating this world and I wanted you to know about it too." If you really need them to say more than "I liked it" then return to Tip 1 and ask questions you want the answers to. "Which is your favourite bit?" "Which character did you like most?"

Your family, friends, and partners are there to love you and share your delight. Your fellow writers have the know-how to help you develop your writing.

9 Avoid group-think in writing groups

Similar to the danger of a writing group or buddy arrangement becoming too "kind", a group can develop "group-think" over time. That's when keeping the group harmonious becomes more important than thinking critically and independently, and it can lead to some very skewed perspectives.

To avoid this, firstly, actively embrace disagreement within your writing group. If one person thinks a particular page should go and someone else loves it, good! If one person hates a character and someone else loves them, good! Never try to move from that to a group consensus: someone will be backing down and you'll be losing their insights. Make a note of the differing opinions, and you as the writer can choose your course later. Secondly, work apart and then together. In the three-traits test, everyone writes down their own view of a character and then compares. In our group, by sending our writing in advance, we read it independently and then compare our views. When people are forming and expressing their opinions at the same time, it's very easy to landslide down with the first, loudest, or strongest opinion, and not even notice we're not thinking independently anymore.

The beauty of a writing group is getting multiple opinions at once: keep them multiple.

10 Have multiple feedback sources

Having multiple opinions within a writing group is fantastically helpful. Having multiple groups and writing buddies is also good, not disloyal. We need different people for different stages. The person you've talked out the whole plot with can't tell you if your suspense and reveals are working: they already know everything. The group that helps you hammer and polish your first draft can't read the final draft with fresh eyes: they know every detail of what you're trying to do. This is also where family, friends, and partners come back in.

In my writing, my partner knows every detail of the world. I read aloud the raw first-draft to him in the kitchen in the evenings, at the Plough on weekends, on holiday in Turkey. That's him being my cheerleader and my love: I want to share my world. I thrash out plot problems and pick his brilliant brain: then he's my co-creator. When I turn that raw first-draft into actual story, I write it, type up, print it, add bits, refine it, print a clean copy, and give him that to read: then he's my alpha-reader. He flags up anything that strikes him as odd. Sometimes practical matters: if you saw a barrel lengthways, it'll fall apart. (Doh!) Sometimes story-structure matters: x character seemed completely unsurprised by that news. Sometimes suggestions: he'd like to see that scene in more detail or that part is happening too fast. I make adjustments and then it goes to my writing group.

The writing group are my writing experts: they hammer down into the serious story structure stuff, flag up exposition, comment on prose. I come away with a sheaf of edits and usually some reworking. If I'm heavily rewriting a scene, I'll bring it back to them for a second pass: it's not going to surprise them, at that stage, but they can help me check the language.

When the book is finished and I've edited it, then I need fresh readers. These don't have to be writers, necessarily, just readers, so it can be friends and family. This isn't about looking for expert advice, it's finding beta-readers for a reader-response to the finished book. To make that work for both of us, I need to remember Tip 1 and ask questions. At the end of each chapter: "How is x character coming across? What do you think will happen next? Who do you suspect? What most surprised you?"

That's 6 different roles, some of which need more than one person: cheerleader, co-creator, alpha-reader(s), writing expert(s), beta-readers. Some of them can overlap and be the same person; some absolutely can't, because it needs fresh eyes. It's not "disloyal" to have several writing group / buddy arrangements: it's important. And we absolutely can't be alone, as writers. As I said at the start, we need each other: our creativity flourishes best together.

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My aim, as a teacher, is always to empower my students: people shouldn't be dependent on me, to write. But we don't have to be independent, either: we're interdependent. Over the last ten years, I've learnt so much more about teaching, thanks to all of you and your feedback, created so many new courses and workshops, thanks to all of you and your input, got to read so much of your lovely writing and share in so many different worlds and stories. The solstice tips today and the year's almost over, so this is the last of the ten-year celebration posts, but the Writers' Greenhouse is going strong, thanks to you. And whatever year it ends up actually happening, we are definitely having that ten-year anniversary party!