This month, I promised to write about my critique group, known to ourselves as Tres Amigos, although neither Chris, Dan, nor I have Spanish descendants.  Boiled down from a larger group that met at a community college, the three of us have met monthly at each other’s homes since 2015. After a decade, we have gotten to know each other’s work pretty well.

I have written about this critique group before (Writer’s Journey, April 2025) and will not bore you with the details again. You may want to refer back to it, if only for the Gado Gado recipe, which is included.

I will be very specific by giving an example. The storyline might be a little hard to follow since it is being taken out of context. Below is a piece of the story I submitted to Dan and Chris.

Before the sun set on the day, the twin approached the Black Castle. He saw his brother’s horse—riderless—grazing. He left his horse to graze with his brother’s and made for the castle on foot. He blew his horn, the sound of which echoed, then he lowered his visor. The grated window soon slid open, then closed, and the gate creaked open.

“I am the Lady Berberisca,” said the witch. “Whom do I have the honor of addressing?”

Now the twin raised his visor. Upon seeing the face of the knight she had just murdered, she turned to flee, but his sword pierced her back before she took another step.

“What have you done with my brother, cruel hag?” he demanded.

“Brother… Restore me, and I will show you.”

“Restore you?” He laughed bitterly. “How might I do that?”

“Easily, with flowers from the plants Everlasting and Dragon’s Blood in my garden, boiled in a cauldron.”

Dan suggested the word “foraging” instead of the word “grazing” since the word “graze” appears in the next sentence. (Yes, that is how granular we get, and why it takes us an hour to cover ten pages.) Nonetheless, I am going to stay with “grazing.” It is the right word. Horses do not forage. I could have substituted “munching grass,” but that sounds a little silly to me.

Chris caught me on the witch introducing herself. It was out of character and totally unlike her introduction to his brother earlier in the story. Both Chris and Dan were thrown off by the line, “Brother… Restore me, and I will show you.” They took it that she was addressing him as “brother.” My intent was that she suddenly recognized that he was the brother of the knight she had just murdered. When both your critique partners don’t get it, you need to fix it.

They both agreed I needed another beat in the paragraph describing the knight stabbing the witch. Also, I had not given quite enough detail about the operation of the magic healing potion.

Below is my rewrite following their suggestions.

Before the sun set on the day, the twin approached the Black Castle. He saw his brother’s steed—riderless—grazing. He left his own horse to graze with his brother’s and made for the castle on foot. He blew his horn, the sound of which echoed, then he lowered his visor. The grated window soon slid open.

“Another pesky knight? Why does your kind keep bothering an old woman?”

The window closed, and the gate creaked open.

“Whom do I have the honor of addressing?” Her voice held sarcasm.

Now the twin raised his visor. Upon seeing the face of the knight she had just murdered, she screamed, “No, you’re dead!” and turned to flee, but his sword pierced her back before she took another step.

“What have you done with my brother, cruel hag?” he demanded.

“Brother? I see,” she groaned. “Restore me, and I will show you.”

“Restore you?” He laughed bitterly. “How might I do that?”

“Easily, with the purple flowers from the plants Everlasting and Dragon’s Blood in my garden. Boil them in a cauldron. When the water cools, lower me into the potion.”

I hope this illustrates why I think you should be in a critique group. It is too easy to be blind to missteps in your writing.  Of course, it needs to be a group you feel you can trust. A decade of working together will do.