My
entire philosophy regarding nasty comments from readers referring my works
comes down to the following three statements:
1)
You can’t please everyone. Ever. Period.
2)
Sometimes reviewers hate you, sometimes they
love you. They are entitled to their informed opinion.
3)
(insert the sound of a “raspberry” here.)
Sometimes,
however, you might feel the need to respond. My advice? Don’t. Below are a few
articles regarding the basics of WHY you should not respond. They come down to
one word: Professionalism. I’m here to write stories, sell stories, and hopefully,
make a living, the rest of it is just part of the business. I DO actively look
at reviews. Now and then they are useful. Sometimes not so much.
I’m
going to go over one of my favorite subjects yet again. Oh, we’ve visited here
before, you and I, assuming of course that you bother to read what I write
here. Still, some places need to be seen more than once, don’t they? Some
subjects seem to need a fresh viewing from time to time.
Not
all that long ago a few of my peers were talking about one of the big boys.
Mostly what they had to say was pleasant enough. A few people seemed puzzled by
the gent’s actions, but not shocked. The person in question had turned them
down for blurbs.
Yes,
you in the back with your hand held high? ‘What’s a blurb?’ A blurb is that
little sentence or two that writers ask their peers and those they admire or
envy to give to them regarding their latest books. Just what their value is
seems to be a very serious question to a lot of people, but the basic notion is
that these little quotes could potentially help sell books. As a point of fact
I’m exceedingly fond of selling books, so I recommend that if you can get
blurbs, you do so.
Now,
I’d like to put this into perspective if I may. If we work under the assumption
that the level of popularity and sales attained is a quantifiable issue, and we
then work under the belief that this issue can be studied and used to our
advantage, then it’s safe to assume that someone like Stephen King, Dean Koontz
or J.K. Rowling are likely to get substantially more requests for blurbs than
someone like yours truly. Why? Because they are household names. True, not
every person on the planet knows who they are, but millions do and that says
something substantial. Thousands might know who the hell I am, which means that
using the earlier assumptions, the aforementioned authors probably get (to keep
with my so far scintillating numerical analogy) butt loads more requests for
blurbs than I do. I get enough that I have to regretfully turn down far more
than I can accept. It’s become a necessity. I have to write, you see, and I
have a day job, and a family and, well, a life. I can’t spend all of my time
reading, much as I might want to, and I insist on actually READING anything I
might be asked to blurb. Damned rude of me, I know, but there it is. My point
here being that the folks who do the asking of some of the bigger names run the
same risk of getting a “so sorry, no time right now” as anyone else.
But
I digress (maybe). We were talking about politics.
Oh,
now I remember.
I
made a comment amidst the very small and private group. I pointed out that I
was fairly certain the author they were discussing pretty much didn’t like me.
A few others clarified who they knew that this author likes and doesn’t like.
And
here we go. According to most sources, there is only one other writer that this
particular writer actively dislikes. Examples were given. I nodded and
listened.
Now,
I bet a few of you are annoyed with me because I haven’t mentioned a single
name regarding this conversation. In fact the only names I’ve mentioned at all
were three that I used to show the difference in magnitudes between my success
and that of authors who have become “name brands.”
Guess
what? That’s the best you’re going to get out of me.
Why?
Politics.
I
don’t like them. I never have. They merely make things murkier than they need
to be. I may not like an author. An author may not like me. It doesn’t matter.
We don’t have to collaborate on a novel any time soon and even if we did, I
think the professionals would set aside egos and differences long enough to get
the job done.
See?
There I go again, pointing out that this is my job. My career. Like that should
make any difference at all.
It
does, of course. I’m in it, as the saying goes, to win it. Yes, I love writing.
Yes, I would still write if I never sold another piece. I will, however, do my
damnedest to sell every piece that I write, or barring that, I’ll figure out
why I couldn’t sell it. Just like other professional writers do. Just like
comic artists and actors and even the occasional poet does. It’s called
professionalism.
There
are probably a lot of people who can say things about my writing that are
negative. Hell, a lot of them already have and unless a miracle occurs, a good
number more will in the future. There are a lot of folks who could probably
debate my personal grooming habits and whether or not my deodorant fails in the
height of the summer should they be bored enough.
Most
of the time, however, what they can’t legitimately accuse me of is saying
anything nasty about my peers. (Hey, I’m not a saint. I’ve slipped up a few
times).
So,
while skimming over my usual haunts on the internet, I ran across a header that
referred to “hating your readers.” I was between paragraphs and composing the
next part of a YA proposal in my head at the time and I decided I’d go ahead
and look it over. The board in question was Shocklines.com and the subject was,
for a change of pace, exactly what it claimed to be. A writer who believes that
if you don’t hate your readers, you are somehow doing it all wrong.
Actually,
to be fair, I’ll quote the writer in question: “Hating the reader means not
writing to/for a favourite group of people. Hating the reader means not writing
to his/her expectations of your current saleable standing or reputation. Hating
the reader means writing from your very centre.” Mike Philbin
Okay,
fair enough. He redefines a few times, but I can see where there might be a
seed of logic or two in the argument. It’s the hatred part that gets in the way
of this making sense to me.
I
can’t hate my readers. First, they help pay my bills. Second, while I fully
believe in writing for yourself first, even if I didn’t I have to tell you, the
reader doesn’t really come into the equation until the book is done. Oh, and
third, some of them send me e-mails and tell me that my writing is fun. That
alone would guarantee a certain level of affection, believe me.
I
write for me. I always have, and I always will. Let me explain that to you.
It’s my story I’m telling. It’s my imagination that I’m using. If I start
second guessing what other people might think about how I’m telling it, I can
guarantee it’s going to fall apart long before I’ve finished telling the tale.
As
I’ve said before, writing is a business for me. that means that when it’s all
said and done, I want to sell my works to a publisher who will kindly pay me
money and take care of all of the uglier parts of the job, like making certain
that everything is just so and spending money I certainly don’t have on
advanced copies for reviewers, and maybe even a little actual advertising.
My
job isn’t finished, not by any stretch of the imagination. There’s proofs to
read, edits to go over, arguments to be had about the format, etc. That’s all
part of the work part of being a writer and all of that, like worrying about
the readers’ desires, comes after I’m done writing the story.
First,
however, I take care of the fun part. The initial tale to be told. Again and
with feeling and possibly even with apologies to a few who might be offended by
the notion, when I’m writing, it’s all about what I want. Do I want the
protagonist to get the girl? Maybe. Will my main characters all come out of the
conclusion unscathed/ Not bloody likely. Those decisions have to be mine when
I’m writing. Otherwise, I’m not writing for me anymore and something has gone
horribly, horribly wrong.
I
understand what the man who started the thread was going for, but even with the
decision to leave the initial draft of the book in my own hands, I can’t fathom
the notion of hating the reader. That’s like loathing your parents for giving
you a roof over your head and nurturing you for the first part of your life.
And yes, I know there are a few exceptions out there, but for the most part,
the average parent doesn’t abandon us at birth and leave us to manage on our
own at the age of two, or beat us black and blue and lock us in closets. If
yours did, I’m rather surprised you have the time to read this between therapy
sessions.
I
write for myself. I don’t try to predict the market, or choose my subjects
based on the latest growing trend in paperbacks. Dear Lord, what a waste of
time. You’ll never, ever get it right. By the time you’re aware of most trends,
it’s too late to catch them, and even if you do, I don’t honestly believe
you’re doing yourself of anyone else a favor by trying to catch up on what was
written two years ago.
At
the very least, calling the idea of writing for yourself “hating the reader,”
is a poor choice of words. At the most, it smacks of preposterous arrogance.
That’s just my two cents.
James A. Moore
On a side note, I just finished the signature sheets for this one. Should be a LOT of fun! And since October is almost here, it seems appropriate.
I love your posts, they make me laugh. Great opening to this post!
ReplyDeleteAs for the rest, very valid points made. As someone who reviews and does author interviews...may I just say I WISH every author approached their writing job as a professional.
But hey, they just make the real professionals stand out that much more. :)