Write a RAVE review of your work. [Write as if you are a reviewer and not the author.]
This was the writing assignment from my poetry mentor, Nadia Colburn.
I felt the dread and resistance in my bones, my heart, in the rigid tension in my limbs and shoulders. No!
I think I even tried the assignment at the beginning of the month when Nadia assigned it, but I did not get far. When Nadia reminded us of the assignment, I dutifully copied and pasted it into a Word doc to be dealt with… um… later.
The document remained open for days. But no words followed the questions.
Our group met this morning. Turns out, half of the six of us had hit a wall with the assignment.
What Stops Us from Writing About Our Work?
For me, this wall felt familiar. A few years ago, I spent weeks, then months, trying to write the back cover copy and Amazon description for Breathe. Write. Breathe. Similar story for The Joy of Writing Journal. My first book was easier—the publisher, Health Communication, took care of that one.
Nadia had given us valuable instructions, including several questions to ponder. Write about:
- What is the work doing that is unique?
- What other artists is the work in dialogue with?
- Why are you the exact person to be creating this work?
- What does the reviewer love most about it?
- Why and how is this work essential, important, inspiring, and lovable, unlike other work?
What happens when I’m asked to write about my work?
For me, the exercise and questions evoke confusion and overwhelm; my brain short-circuits. I have forgotten how to access my Muse, my connection to creative source.

I trace some of this reaction back to family systems—a father who was afraid of creative success, while being a wildly creative composer and songwriter. My father wrote songs, poetry, and musicals, most of which were never performed, though some came close (Joseph Papp was interested in one of his musicals, but production would cost a fortune and, in the end, the board couldn’t put their money on a musical that ended on a down note).
I think my father’s challenges go deeper than what’s on the surface—maybe an ancestral pattern of playing it safe, not speaking your truth, not using your voice, remaining little-known.
My mother, too, put limits on her creative success and reach as a watercolorist. Yet, over time, by selling her paintings cheaply in the local gift shops and at a restaurant in the tiny town of Alma, New Brunswick, on Fundy Bay, she became a bit of a local celebrity.
Everyone could afford an “Elizabeth Tener.” Some visitors collected a new painting every year they visited Fundy National Park for their family’s summer holiday. And so her reach expanded to local galleries and museums in Albert County. And to the Unitarian Church she attended on Long Island, where my parents lived the majority of the year.
So, I had two models. And I’ve lumbered along, certainly getting my work out there to an extent. And yet, I still feel these restraints on how much I am willing to step into my power, how far and how loudly I’ll let my voice reach and ring out. The more visible an opportunity becomes, the more tension and confusion I feel around it.
Clearly, this exercise has brought up something. Something I’ve been wrestling with my whole life. Some unfinished work. Some level of healing to be addressed.
What happens for others
Others in our group described their own challenges—that it felt like bragging, obnoxious. Or that, in childhood—in their families or at school—it had not been safe to say anything positive about themselves, and therefore doing the exercise felt unsafe.
One writer, Kathleen Vakalo, found herself thinking there was no escape. She felt her only option was to quit our group, rather than do the assignment!
And yet, she did find her way through it before our session.
A small voice inside her said, “This is it. This is the existential turning point of your life. You are seeing a truth. You must do this.”
And writing her “review” actually became the turning point her Muse had promised! WOW!
You can imagine that her words stirred something in me.
Another, whose review was so specific and truly captured the brilliance of her work, shared how shy she felt to read it aloud to us. That it was not an easy exercise for her either. But she wrote on deadline last night, “without much time to mess with it,” and she didn’t overthink it. She found the questions Nadia posed quite helpful in guiding her.
My AHA moment in writing about my work
I realized that while some of the questions still stopped me in my tracks:
- What is the work doing that is unique?
- What other artists is the work in dialogue with?

I could shift my attention away from myself. As I did that, I tapped into a reader who is moved by my work. I became curious about what’s possible for that person. What might their experience offer them?
I came up with this:
What a treat to read “Poetry Nite at the Rite Aid Parking Lot” by Lisa Tener. There’s a freedom in her poetry, a playfulness and also a willingness to go deep. As a result, her poetry is penetrating, healing and nourishing in ways that surprised me.
I found myself feeling unusually open, happy and inspired throughout my day after reading it. In her evocative language and powerful cadence, the everyday becomes exalted.
I am sharing these poems with people I love. I look forward to more from this inspiring and liberating poet.
On persistence and comparison
My review had nowhere near the depth, precision and detail my colleagues’ reviews embodied, but it felt like a start. I’m still struggling with some of those questions.
Here’s what one of my colleagues/friends wrote for her rave review of her own work:
I have just finished reading the first book of collected poems by K_____. I am excited and delighted. The poems are brilliant.
K___ sees outside the boxes of perception that arise from language and convention. Her observations are astute, her language unexpected. With each poem, you find your sense of reality has expanded. But it is more than perception.
By putting words to what she observes and feels, she expands and illuminates the experience of the reader. Her poems bring you into your body; they don’t leave you in your mind.
There is lightness to her poems, to her reality, even, at times, a whimsy, which she is able to reveal when the feelings are dark or heavy. She has the gift of detachment at the same time of feeling.
Wow, right? And if you read any of her poetry—I will let you all know when she publishes—you’d also see how well this review reflects her work.
I still feel a bit like a deer in the headlights (ugh, such a tired metaphor, but accurate), and it’s hard not to compare my own review to this. When I compare, my classmates’ reviews sound way more eloquent and original. They say far more about their work.
On the other hand, when I let go of comparing, I kind of like what I wrote. My first pass at reviewing does capture something of what I hope my poetry does for my readers. Maybe my poetry is a bit simple. But I do believe it’s healing. And potent. Oooh. I like that word. I’m going to add it to my review!
Inspiration returns and here’s an invitation for you.
And now, here comes more as I write this post.
Some of Tener’s poems feel like potent incantations conjuring the words, sounds, images, rhythms to heal our deepest wounds. In the aftermath, we feel the aliveness freed up by the alchemy of poetry.
Thank you, Nadia Colburn, for this empowering exercise. And thank you to my beloved groupmates for your honesty, vulnerability, exquisite writing, and inspired reviews! And for all the support to show up messy!
Reader-Writer, here’s my invitation to you. Write a review of the book you are working on. Your book doesn’t have to be complete or even begun! Just write a RAVE review that captures what you believe your book is capable of doing! Please share your review, or an excerpt of it, in the comments below! I’d love to read what you envision for your work and its impact, plus I know how powerful this exercise can be!
And while it takes a bit of time, sharing our work here on the blog is an act of community—that’s how we share our voices—in community!

But sometimes, I get an oddball submission like this one:
Having attended the Stevie Awards banquet in the past, I recall sitting at a table with women executives from IBM, solopreneurs and small business owners on different occasions. What if several of them received my book and realized what a great tool it is for fostering creativity within teams? I envisioned reaching many more people than Amazon might send my way. Hmm. How to make the possibilities clear that this book could help with any creative tasks, writing or otherwise? And that I could help these teams with creative problem-solving,
We got together, and the three of us hired our own publicist, who got us book reviews in the Chicago Tribune and 22 Chicago-area newspapers. Yet, when I called a Chicago Barnes & Noble to suggest they carry the book to prepare for what I was sure would be an onslaught of customers, they said they could only purchase one book, which would not be restocked. “I have a ‘do not replenish’ here in the system.” Some sleuth work revealed that the book’s dimensions were a no-no for bookstores (the days before the days before Amazon ruled the roost).
Here’s some homework for you (feel free to comment below!):








ing investors in Neuronetics’ introduced me to 

Lisa: You know, I do some work with the idea of Attraction and how to create what we truly want in our lives, and I’m excited to talk with you specifically about how we can do that more with our writing, with our creativity, and even with the platform building, publishing, business-building pieces, and for readers, you know, these pieces are important because if you want to reach people with your book, you do need to have some kind of business platform.
Lisa: Tama Kieves has a story about trusting in the writing of her book, This Time I Dance and then things just unfolded for her in a truly magical way. She had some platform—teaching workshops—but it wasn’t a huge platform. She focused on the book and then putting it out it there and self-publishing. Then a publisher came to her because she just loved the book.




























