The One Star Review

 

Moon set on the western edge of the continent.

 

 

Reviews. Am I wrong in thinking there's so much weird psychology wrapped up in them? I mean, sure. 95% of reviews aren't meant for the author at all. They're meant for other readers, a fact I appreciate. All hail ANYONE who spends the time and energy to read a book and the write a review. That's the greatest gift a reader can give an author, I think - it's time and life energy spent on your book. Doesn't even matter whether the review is good or bad. It's still a chunk of another human being's life being dedicated to your work. So please, if you review books (mine or anyone else's) thank you. I owe you chocolate.

 

The other 5% of reviews, though, that's where things get strange and where the agendas become far more transparent than I suspect the reviewer wants. You know how it is. Writer slogs for years trying to learn her craft and get published. Because then all her problems will be solved! Finally, the call comes. The first precious book goes out the door into the wide world. Someone reads it. Then someone else. Reviews start coming in. And they're okay! Until - hey! ONE STAR?? WTH? Your heart lands in your shoes as you read. 

 

Interesting story: It happened to Enemy Within. A reviewer on Amazon left a one star review saying he didn't understand why anyone liked the book, there was nothing new in it. (Even more interesting - I just went to find the review to quote it and it's gone. Huh.) Why did that review in particular stick with me? Was it because it was the first critical review of the book? Not hardly. If I want to play my critical review trump card, I note that no one less than Angela James wrote a very constructive, if critical review of the book. No this one star review stayed with me because the reviewer's agenda was plain in his dismissive tone. He's a frustrated writer. He had an idea that was similar-ish, but his was SO MUCH BETTER - the only problem was that he hasn't written it. He may never write it. It's much easier to take pot shots at the work someone else did than to do your own and face that the reality will never live up to the idea.

 

It seems like if a critical review is constructive and calls out issues that bothered the reader, then it's an honest opinion. The snarky one or two line reviews that don't actually give you any specifics - those set off my psychology senses (100% unqualified as they are) I think it's Julia Cameron who, in her ARTIST'S WAY books points out that the most vitriolic critics are creatives who aren't creating. I do my best to keep that in mind when some nitwit drops a snide, unhelpful line of bitterness into the flow of actual reviews.

 

Would I get 'author behaving badly' demerits if I pinged that reviewer with a note saying 'write yer damned book already?'   :D

 

 

 

PS: Don't forget to offer up suggestions for a name change! See Jeffe's post on the matter. You do NOT want me naming this blog. Just saying.

Reviews

Reviews are not something I do. "Grading" my peers seems disingenuous and dangerous, aside from the fact that I don't get to read nearly as much as I once did. That said, I make recommendations to folks who ask and I support my writing pals by linking to their stuff on Facebook when they are promoting something. I have also given a few blurbs when approached to do so.
My reviews have been mostly good, but there are some bad ones out there. I understand that this is the law of averages, and as my subject matter is such that some folks will object to it, I don't mind. Really. Reviews don't make or break my day. It's the constant contact from folks who've just discovered the series and want more--that makes my day. There isn't much that can break my day, and certainly not someone's opinion of my books. That just isn't me.

I Love Book Reviewers, But I Will Not Be One

I love reviewers. I truly appreciate the time and effort they take to write the review, to educate, inform, and instigate conversations. Like Jeffe, I really love book reviewers who write the insightful "why I loved/hated this book" reviews. As a reader, book summaries or cliff notes of the novel just annoy me. Oh, and spoilers? Grrrrr.

But.

I will not leave reviews for books. I will review shoes, paints, clothing, rugs, service providers, dog foods, shampoos, kitchen gadgets, etc. I will not review books. I will not publicly comment on the works of other artists in my field. Regardless of genre. I have made one exception. I will not make another. This makes my Goodreads page very dull, 'cause it's all about me, me, me. SorryNotSorry.

In my experience, there are three general categories of authors who do review books:

The Hat-Tip: There are plenty of authors who actively review the good, the bad, the ugly. There are authors who will only review a book they feel deserves five stars and heaps of praise. There are authors who will only review books 30+ years old or books far outside their genre. These authors ask for nothing in return for the review; they do it for the love of reading and being active in the readers' communities.

The Tainted: There are authors who will review in exchange for a review. This is a great temptation, especially when trying to trigger the magical algorithms to increase the visibility of a book. This is very common in the authorverse; so much so, that it's an unspoken expectation among certain circles. I withdrew from those circles...then reached for the bleach and a wire brush.

The Terrible: There are authors who use reviews as a portal to refer potential readers over to their books. There are authors who eviscerate anyone they perceive to be competition. There are authors who engage in reviewer wars--for books they have written and for books written by others.

I will not leave reviews for books. It's a respect thing in which I endeavor to treat my peers equally; regardless of their ability to entertain with a story. At the end of the year, when we Word-Whores list our Top Reads, that's closest I'll get to a review.  Even then I have to be careful, because...opinions, I have them. Often in caustic abundance. For all that it is easy to elevate with praise, it is equally easy to condemn by omission.

I'll stick to writing the books. I leave the reviews to the readers, gods bless 'em.

How a Vicious Review Opened My Eyes

This is one of my favorite photos from the RT Booklovers Convention in Las Vegas last week. Darynda Jones and I were on a panel and I think we were laughing here about people dissing fantasy heroines as unrealistic while loving Conan.

Hard to say, but it makes me smile every time.

Speaking of problematic labels... It's come to our attention here at the Bordello that our moniker, while entertaining in a snarky way, has become a problem. Apparently most firewalls object to the use of "whores" in the URL and, well, everywhere else on this blog. So, while we shall remain forever Word Whores in our hearts (and elsewhere), we've decided to rebrand.

And we're looking for suggestions for a new blog name! Put your ideas in the comments and we'll select our favorites, then run a poll in the sidebar. The winner will receive their book of choice from each of the seven of us! Caveat: our selection will strongly depend on domain/blog name availability, so you might check on that if your eyes are on the prize.

This week's topic is: Reviews.

Just that, and only that. Not like it's an enormous topic or anything, people.

The first thing that springs to mind is my very first encounter with a book review. Not a book report, which I feel like I began writing with a #2 pencil when my first grade teacher asked me to put into words all my feels about a book. No, this came a bit later, sometime after I was forced in 6th grade to read The Deerslayer by James Fenimore Cooper. (A book I loathed with the fire of a thousand suns - also a first for me.) I felt alone in my hate. The teacher who forced me to read it certainly didn't understand - and did not appreciate my mouthy opinions on the topic. Everyone else who'd already learned to loathe reading didn't understand either. My parents, friends, everyone I ranted to, responded along the lines of, "So? Everyone has to read books for school that they hate." But I never had read a book I didn't like before.

A horrible thing to discover.

At any rate, some time later - maybe a year or two - I came across an essay by Mark Twain called, "Fenimore Cooper's Literary Offenses." (Apologies in advance for some of the racist language in it - you know how Twain was.) Reading that terribly snarky essay LIT UP MY WORLD, people! Twain detailed everything I hated about The Deerslayer and taught me more. Through his eyes I finally understood why I'd loathed the book.

This is what a good review does.

These days it's anathema for one author to so viciously criticize another. It's not even acceptable, in many circles, for a reviewer to completely eviscerate an author's work this way - though it can and does happen. A huge difference here is that Twain does so with wit and incisive intelligence, which not all modern reviewers can lay claim to, particularly of the internet troll variety.

Still, a well-thought out essay on why a book did not work for a reader can be a wonderful helping hand. From Twain I first began to understand how a book could go wrong for me. He walked me through how to parse prose from plot, character from ... well, whatever Fenimore Cooper used to transmit dialogue.

Do I like it when I get a scathing review of one of my books? Of course not. But a well thought-out discussion of why a book didn't work for a reader reveals important qualities of the story to other readers. And it makes us think, which is always a good thing.

Haters Gonna Hate; Raters Gonna Rate.

So I have to confess to another bad habit, at least a bad habit for writers.  I like to go to the Amazon page of books I enjoyed (or Goodreads or what have you) and read the one-star and two-star reviews.  And, sometimes, they have valid points, and I can see where they were coming from.  Other times, said reviews are crazy-sauce.  If the internet has proven one thing, it's that some people will fundamentally mis-read something, and have loud opinions about it.

Knowing that, am I going to be able to keep myself from reading my one-star and two-star reviews? 

No, I'm not.  I'm really not.  I just don't have that kind of self-control.

However, what I think I'll be able to do is roll with those bad reviews.  I won't respond to or challenge the reviewers. I will likely rant and scream a bit within the confines of my own household, but nothing public.  I mean, I was an actor and theatre producer, so I've had bad reviews before.  I can take it. 

But.... I might also see some valid points. Points that I could learn from in the next project.  Or give me insight into which aspects of the books are or aren't working for people.  Because, it would be the height of hubris to think that I've got everything figured out and there's nothing left for me to learn.  Even the most misguided, vitriolic bile-spitting hate-screed of a review could have a seed of value I can harvest.  And if there isn't, then... ignore it.

And since there's always more to harvest, it's off to the word... fields.  Hmm.  That metaphor isn't quite as romantic, is it?

A Question About Questions

Hello, all! I’m Jane, your part-time Whore, here to fill in for Allison while she rests up. And how convenient for me that my first post gets to be me asking you questions, because I don’t have to worry about whether this post will totally suck. ;)

Or maybe I do. Yeah, I think I will anyway.

At any rate, my question for readers is tangential to Jeffe’s question on Sunday about authors interfering in reviews. It’s really a question about questions. We live in a remarkable age when we have immediate access to the people who write the books we read. But it seems as though the more opportunities for communication there are, the less communicating is actually happening.

One of my favorite authors, Lynn Flewelling, hosted a writing workshop at sea a few years ago. A chance to meet one of my favorite authors, talk about writing, and go on a cruise to the Caribbean? It was a total no-brainer. And one of the best vacations I’ve ever had.

Since then, those of us who cruised together have followed and friended one another across the social media-sphere, and Lynn has been absolutely lovely, chatting and engaging with those of us who attended, and sharing her daily life in 140-word bits, even seeking us out and hanging with us when we happen to attend the same conferences. It feels like we’re friends.

And there are other authors I’ve spoken to on Twitter whom I’ve never met, but who’ve answered me back, which is always a treat. When I was a kid, I dreamed about being able to talk to writers, even fantasized about attending and hosting writer salons. (I know. I’m a dork.)

But something has changed recently in this still-somewhat-new world where readers have immediate access to authors. As with the recent Goodreads brouhaha, there are readers who don’t want to hear from authors at all. Any kind of response by an author (even “thanks for the review”) is met with hostility and mistrust. I’ve heard some bloggers say that if an author comments on a blog post, it shuts down communication because people know the author is reading.

(Wait…don’t leave! I really do have a question!)

Why should the act of communicating shut down communication? (That’s not my question. I’m getting to it.)

Writers are always admonished for getting upset about rejections and bad reviews. “You have to have a thick skin if you’re going to put your words out there in the world for others to read.” Yes. Yes, we do. And readers’ words posted publicly are words, too. An author definitely shouldn’t abuse a reviewer or reader for their opinion or hound them with all the reasons they’re “wrong.” But wouldn’t it be great if you could, I don’t know, just ask an author a question about a book and get an answer without bringing about the Zombie Apocalypse?

Yes, that was my question. I know, I buried the lead. (Or is it lede?) No! Or Yes. Dammit. I hate those kind of answers.

When I come across comments in reviews or on blog posts where readers have questions about my books, I wish I could just pop in and say, “Yes, that character will show up in another book,” or “No, that isn’t the end of that series.” But I know I can’t answer even the most innocuous of questions because of the perception of author intrusion. And that makes me sad, because I love being able to talk to my favorite authors about their characters—and frankly, I love to talk about my characters—and I hate to see this medium that allows us to connect in a way that was never possible before devolving into a battleground where words are only used for spite.

I had a dilemma today about a reader question. Someone tweeted about a bad first impression she’d gotten from one of my books. I debated whether I should respond or not. I didn’t want to be That Author, and I’m not going to argue with readers about how they feel about my books. Every reader is entitled to her opinion and reaction.

But in the end, I decided to reply since I’d been specifically mentioned in the tweet. She may ultimately hate the book and decide her first impression was right, and I can’t do anything about that. But I can do something about the next book. And I want to know how people feel about my writing. I want to have those conversations. Not to rebut every word of a review, but to be accessible to readers. When I was growing up, if I wondered why the writer of a book I’d read went a particular direction, I was pretty much stuck just wondering. (I’m still wondering what happened at the end of most of Phyllis A. Whitney’s books.) But I also don’t want to intrude on the reader’s experience.

So in case you’ve forgotten what the heck I was talking about, like I’m about to, my question is this: Do you want to have conversations with the writers of the books you read? And if so, what kind? If you @ them on Twitter or tag them on Facebook, do you want a response or are you just letting other readers know what you think?

Sock Puppets, Private Armies and Paying for Reviews

When I think of the term "sock puppets," this is comes to mind. I didn't even watch a lot of Kukla, Fran and Ollie, I don't think, since its heyday was WELL before my time. I think my mom and aunt had lingering fondness for it, so I knew about the show through them. More, it stuck with me because something about it profoundly disturbed me.

I mean, it's weird, isn't it? A person puts a sock on their hand, makes a pretend mouth move, and talks to it. And makes it talk back. I don't care if the sock is decorated in a cute way or is as elaborate as a ventriloquist's dummy. The basic premise is the same: a person attempts to create the illusion of two or more voices talking but, no matter how cleverly done, it's still only one person, talking to themselves. It's almost a little insane.

So it amuses me that "sock puppets" is the term commonly being applied these days to authors who assume alternate identities to talk about their own books. Here's a notable new incident. Or who lever other people into talking about their books - either through reciprocation, the "army" mentality or by paying for reviews.

I'm rarely a black and white girl, but I'm coming down on this one as just plain wrong.

More, I find the practice profoundly disturbing. And a little insane.

The thing is, as writers we have control over what we write. It's a solitary, insular process. Once the book goes out into the world, the book is in the hands of the readers. And the readers get to think whatever they want to about it. The writer is no longer in control of that and this is how it should be. That's how art and communication work. Action and reaction.

A writer does not get to control how readers react. Much as they might like to.

To me, it's a violation of the purpose of the story. If I tell you a story, I don't get to grab you by the shoulders and demand that you cry on cue. If my story didn't communicate what I wanted it to, this is my freaking problem, not the reader's.

So to me, it doesn't matter what form of sock-puppeting an author uses - it's all an attempt to circumvent the cold, hard truth that how our work is received depends entirely on the work itself.

No, don't tell me about luck, or who gets more publicity dollars, or how x, y or z is not fair, or how some books don't deserve the attention they get. None of that matters. Only how readers receive the work matters.


Now, I do rate and review friends' books from time to time. And this is my grey area. I keep this clear for myself by a) openly acknowledging that I have warm, fuzzy feelings for this person to begin with, b) only saying what is absolutely true about my reaction to the book, and c) only reviewing those books I feel like I can genuinely praise. I know this is the "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" school, which many reviewers say is wrong. But I'm not a reviewer. I'm a writer and a reader. I get to gush a little when I love a friend's book.

However.

And I do think this is a big HOWEVER.

I never ask my friends to review my books. And I don't reference those reviews when they, out of the goodness of their hearts (and hopefully some gushiness of their own sometimes) do write up something.

I should caveat that blurbs don't count. Those little one line bits where one author praises another, that get stuck on book covers? Those are a realm unto themselves, and everyone should understand that those are largely friendly and professional courtesy. They're not reviews. Every author I know who's asked to do a blurb struggles to make it true, but it not an biased review of any sort and should never be represented as such. So, if you ask your friends to blurb your book? Don't put it as a review on Amazon. Please. Put it on your website or whatever, but be honest about the provenance.

Otherwise.

If you pay someone to review the book? You've tainted how they receive it.

If you're part of a team, where you all agree to review each other's books as part of pimping them? You are a compromised reader.

Even if you're doing a bit of reciprocation - I'll review yours if you review mine - it's a biased review.

If you're donning a secret identity to discuss your own books? Then you're only talking to yourself.

And that's just crazy.