It took a bit to find it, but here it is: http://www.lenswork.com/acrobat2.htm -- that lists all the Lenswork issues available online, and what you're looking for is one by Brooks Jenson, the editor, in issue #54. That's where I first found someone, in any industry, willing to draw the line between quality and not-quality:

I’m not sure why it is so difficult for artists to accept, but let’s face it, crap is crap. It is not sometimes crap and sometimes not crap. It is not neither crap nor not crap. Crap is not both crap and not crap. Such convoluted Zen logic may be appropriate in studying koans but when it comes to artwork such thinking is just plain intellectual crap.

And while I’m at it, let me address the other silly myth that “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” This may be true when we are talking about, as the original phrase was, the beauty of a woman. Although this cliché may be true about women, when applied to art it is not. Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but quality is universally recognized. Well, it used to be anyway.

Actually, I recommend pretty much all of Jenson's editorials; he has a great deal to say that I've learned can also be applied to writing, just as much as photography:

I think some of the misconceptions about making photographic artwork comes from the fact that photography is a universally accessible artmaking technology. It is too easily assumed therefore, that the creation of photographic art is a skill that is universally distributed; that everyone can do it well. This assumption entirely misses the point. The creation of photographic artwork has no more to do with photographic technology than a better brush determines the quality of a painting or that a superior instrument guarantees a
quality musical performance.

America is the land of opportunity – home of the free and the brave. We are winners here. We are all Horatio Alger in an artist’s frock. We all have the opportunity to grow up and become President. But, very few of us actually do. Similarly, anybody with a camera can make good art but very few actually do. Potential and achievement are two entirely different things.

It's far more intellectually honest, to me, to say, "it's crap and I like it for some other reason," than to say, "well, you're just too narrow-minded to see its quality." Nope. It's still crap, it's just crap that for some reason gives me the happy.

I think in part, it's not just the readers' self-identification with a story that gives them the happy, and thus sensitive to criticism, as though liking engenders association. It's the unwillingness to call a halt to the notion of relativity, as though some people just can't be expected to see that Rowling will never be Tolkein, and thus for them, crap is not crap but somehow an adequate quality.

Man, it's late. I'm not sure I'm making sense. But I still recommend Brooks Jensons' editorials.

Okay, I read Beth's post (which given my reaction to the last one, must say something about the respect I have for your opinions), and I thought it was well done. However, I'm still not sure about this idea of "good" and "bad" in writing. I mean, how can reviews be anything but subjective? Sure, we can read a book and give our opinion, and that opinion (even in its particulars) may be shared by a large group of people, but does that make it the truth? I guess it depends upon what rules we are judging it by, and the degree to which those are codefied in some way. What makes a good book "good" and a bad book "bad"? I know what the textbooks say, but in many ways this feels to me like trying to make a science out of something that is an art.

At the same time, I can appreciate what she says about a need for honesty and straightforwardness in reviews. Saying about a book that "it's just not for me" when in fact you hated it and can state explicitly why is a copout. Obviously the latter sort of review is more helpful in terms of improving the quality of writing in a genre as a whole. But it's still just someone's opinion, and whether or not you heed it as a writer depends on how much stock you put in that person's opinion.

Elisabeth, sG -- It's just past four in the morning here. I'm up because the puppies needed to go out, and I thought I'd check to see if I had managed to round up a posse of readers ready to string me up.

I can't pretend I'm fully awake, but I can say this: thank you for these thoughtful comments. There's a lot to digest here, but I'm thinking about all of it.

Bah. I'm actually gonna have to think when I blog if you keep linking me.

Anyway, one thing I said was "Just because you like it, doesn't make it good." But then I forgot to add: Just because you hate it, doesn't make it BAD.

And I'd say the things that make writing indisputably good are along the lines of three-dimensional characters who behave in believable ways, language that works on more than one level, evocative imagery, world-building that's based on logic and/or on fact, and a host of other things but I gotta go to work now.

(Did I post this twice? Sorry if so.)

I dunno.

I think, in romance particularly, where the genre is so fantasy based and reader identificaton with the story is so important, that objectively rating a story good/bad is slippery territory. Of course some writing is bad, but isn't a lot of it how good the story makes that reader feel overall, despite niceties of craft?

Geez, many romance readers refuse to read books if they are in a setting they don't prefer, the characters are of a race they can't easily empathize or if they can't wholly sympathize with the character's actions--so how can it be said that their judgements are based on craft alone?

A person can read a lit book for craft alone, glorying in the intrusive author presence and masterful command of prose and characterization (whether the character is sympathetic or not), but I don't think most people read for sheer entertainment based on these sort of things.

They read for story and enjoyment, and sales figures show that it's quite possible to enjoy the hell out of a crappy book.

[side note: the formatting is odd in my response -- for some reason, the second paragraph of the quotes ends up looking like my words rather than Jenson's. The preview didn't look like that at all. Very odd.

So, to give proper credit: It's Jenson's words, from "And while I'm at it..." to "Well, it used to be anyway." and then a bit from me. And after the second large quote, Jenson again from "America is the land..." to "...two entirely different things." and then all me again.]

From a writer's point of view, I heartily agree with Beth's take on critique comments ("But it's not catty or mean or vindictive when I respond with, 'Hey, if you want your reader to care less about the people you're writing about, go right ahead.' ") I always ask my beta readers to tell me what's NOT working. I like attagirls as much as the next writer, but they don't do me much good if the scene I'm writing falls flat in 10 different ways. I'd rather a little pain now from a friend than a lot after reading a review when the flawed book comes out.

(...) sales figures show that it's quite possible to enjoy the hell out of a crappy book.

Well, yeah, Monica--that was basically the point Beth and assorted other people are making. The fact that novels by Dara Joy, Connie Mason, Cassie Edwards, Nicholas Sparks, John Grisham, Jackie Collins and a host of others are bestsellers is proof that crap is enjoyable, and crap sells. The definitive proof of this is Naked Came the Stranger; if you've never heard of it, check it out.

A person can read a lit book for craft alone, glorying in the intrusive author presence and masterful command of prose and characterization (whether the character is sympathetic or not), but I don't think most people read for sheer entertainment based on these sort of things.

A minor quibble: is intrusive author presence considered GOOD craft? I always thought of it as, well, bad craft if done too much and too often.

And Sara: good point about how JNMCT is still a valid view. I used an incredibly convoluted cilantro analogy on my blog to illustrate it, ha.

It seems to me that writers of critiques might use the JNMCT line when they realize they have entered into a subjective view of the work, and for whatever human reason, can't get back to writing the critique in an objective fashion. Perhaps a cop out then, or perhaps a polite white lie. Sara - your use of JNMCT for Hemingway and Joyce doesn't strike me as a loss of subjectivity however - it strikes me as a healthy self-aware reader. You are conscious of your capacity for a certain style or tone of writing, and acknowledge it with the polite JNMCT. Mind you, after dissecting the writing to confirm "it's not you, it's me."

I have to chime and agree with Beth. A badly written book is crap no matter how much it sells or how many people defend it or how much you or I like it. You must objectively determine whether a book is good or crap. Maybe it would help if reviewers gave two pieces of information in their review:

1) (Subjective review) I liked / didn't like the book because ...
2) (Objective review) The book was well written / poorly written as evidenced by...

OK. I said I wouldn’t comment. However, now you’ve asked for the third time; so here goes my critique of Beth’s critique of Snow and Ashes. I’m going line by line through her critique, commenting only on specific items, not on the blowing off steam items.

The fire scene: Ether is explosive at 1.5% by volume of air, and is 2.55 times as dense as air; so it would tend to diffuse down into the first floor. So a fireball of it would be possible. It flashes at -20F; so I’m not sure that its burning would actually catch anything else on fire. BUT I COULD BE WRONG. However, the dry phosphorus on dry wood would cause an uncontainable fire (No CO2 extinguishers). But I didn’t write the novel; so I must give DG the benefit of the doubt that an ether fireball would start a fire on other stuff.

Tin foil cover: DB had received requests from male readers to stop “girly” covers. Although SD/RL says that she has no control over the book covers, I think the publishers heard the STOP “GIRLY” COVERS and did that.

Let character die: Can’t kill off Jamie or Claire until the end of the series, and I’m not ready for the series to end.

Rape scene: I think it’s possible that DG intended a Claire rape since Brianna’s rape in Drums of Autumn, a literary device to show parallel occurrences but not parallel attention by the characters involved. Since Brianna’s rape involved a possible pregnancy, I expected Jamie’s concern to be about pregnancy. Claire seemed angry, not traumatized. Thus, taking her to bed soon seems to me to say he validates his love for her and does not have ill feelings about it towards her, i.e., SHE’S NOT RESPONSIBLE. In addition, in decades past, the doctors doing artificial insemination on wives urged husbands to have sex with their wives that evening so that there might be a possibility of the husband’s being the father. I think Jamie’s actions go along with this. He does talk with Roger to get Roger’s thinking.

Grisly things: OK with me. I enjoy Claire’s approach to dealing with them, particularly the penicillin, but not everyone’s cup of tea. The experiments with ether by Clair and phosphorus by Brianna were required to have ether and phosphorus in the house (remember the title of the novel). Since the expected fire didn’t occur, it is feasible to me that they kept the bottles in the house. This is exactly what was going on in labs here even as late as the 1970’s. Little thought was given to the potential disaster. Still, I kept thinking the dummies should put the stuff in the outhouse.

Hmm – I don’t remember the “hot dog” comment. I use it quite often, and I wasn’t a cub reporter in the 1940’s. Oh yes, this is the newest time traveler. He’s found himself in a time he despises, and I think he’s trying to maintain his language to keep some root to his past/future. He has absolutely nothing else but his language and his thoughts.

Wendigo: barely remember that; so won’t comment. I did think it was cool that Jamie hinted that the Indians should hide out in the Smokies. That is exactly what happened!

Ian’s confiding about his family to Brianna rather than Jamie. Don’t know. But at the close of the novel, Jamie doesn’t about it. I suppose that will come up in the next novel. Otherwise, I don’t see why Ian didn’t talk to Jamie or Claire about it. Of course, with respect to the mammoth, why didn’t he talk to historian Roger about it?

Roger’s “sudden” calling. This wasn’t sudden. He’d recognized his pacifism back when he became captain in The Fiery Cross. His great uncle steeped him in Presbyterianism. He anguishes over the 2 men he has killed. He realizes his calling is tied with helping people. For me, it fits.

Hot sex with almost-60-year-olds: Well, that’s not racism, not sexism, so maybe we’ll call it agism. Since I’m in that age group, I’m profoundly insulted. I think it’s great they have an active sex life.

Don’t know about the lawyer.

Don’t know why Jamie must go back to Scotland for the printing press. Surely there are some in America. Maybe the price for a boat ticket is less than the price for a press. Roger managed to work his way on a boat. Maybe that’s how Jamie will do it, since he has no $.

Why is he coming back? Well, that really is a valid point. I can’t see why. Since Brianna et al are going to the Scotland stones and Roger had a professorship at Oxford, why do anything about “saving” America for his descendants? Claire and Jamie don’t know they’ll settle in Scotland. Could Jamie possibly think they’ll settle in America? That’s a stretch!

No goodbye scene: Brianna reminds herself they’ve been saying goodbye for months since the baby was found to have a heart defect.

The gold: No idea, unless that becomes relevant in the next novel.

No story about the Revolution: I think that’s going to be the main emphasis of the next novel.

Cut the first 700 pages: Not for me, I like all the adventures. For me, all the novels are about lots of adventures with an overtone of romance. DG insists these are not romance novels; so I don’t expect them to follow the format of a romance novel. I’m not sure if there is a format for an adventure series. (SD/RL, is there? I consider your series also to be an adventure series with overtones of romance.)

Some things that Beth didn’t comment on that I sort of hohoed about (But I didn’t spend many years critiquing the novels the way DG spent writing them; so who am I to complain?) Aspens and larches don’t grow in the East. I guess Claire could make that mistake, but she did spend years in Boston; so I think she should know that. The travel distances between Edenton and Wilmington by land are quite large. Their horses must have had Pegassus genes. Else they must have been traveling by water a lot. The distance from Fraser’s Ridge (within 10 miles of the Tennessee/NC border, aka the Indian Treaty Line) to Salem can’t be covered by horse in a few minutes or hours. Nowadays mostly on interstate it takes 2-3 hours to go between them. This paragraph is sooooo picky! Who gives a flip? I consider Snow and Ashes one of the best of the Outlander series.