Writing

My post from yesterday sparked some really interesting and respectful dialog. It’s true that I used a broad brush, and I’m aware that nothing is simple. However, I stand by what I said as general principles.

I find it easier to talk about what it’s like from the reviewer end. As an author, I’m fairly unknown. I have some positive reviews and some negative ones. I’ve had a few bizarre comments and some harsh criticism. I don’t ever want what I say to be taken as “bitterness” against reviewers. I might find some things reviewers have said to be unhelpful (the person who started their review with “I don’t understand bisexuals” comes to mind). But I stand by my belief that every reviewer has the right to say whatever they like about my work.

That said, there are a few things I’d like to say which come partly from my own experience as an author but mainly from feedback I’ve gotten from authors as a reviewer. Once again, these are broad, general ideas; your mileage may vary.

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1. We prefer if you read the tags and summaries on our books.

Not just the categories Amazon or whatever bookseller has used but the ones we provide in review requests or which other reviewers have used or which our publishers have used. I hear all the time from authors that they got feedback along the lines of “It didn’t have enough romance/sex for me.” Okay, but did you check to see that it’s not a romance? Did you read the blurb? Similarly, I have exactly zero right to complain that a book contains content I don’t like to read if it’s there in the tags or the synopsis.

2. Reviews can feel highly personal.

Yeah, I know. I said yesterday that reviews aren’t the writer’s personal mission to reward or punish an author. And that’s true, but we like when you keep your reviews free of personal commentary about the author. It’s so much easier to believe our work is complete garbage than to think it’s something special. It might not seem that way, judging by the way some authors behave like toddlers even when reviewers have gone out of their way to be respectful. But a lot of those reactions are because we feel like you’ve just confirmed that we are The Worst Ever. I’m not asking for anyone to coddle us, but please at least try to use neutral language and stick to specific points in the book, not snide remarks.

3. We’re tougher than we look.

Although my previous point made it seem like I think we’re fragile, we’re actually not. The majority of us appreciate thoughtful criticism. I was surprised at first by the number of times I would hear from an author who thanked me for my specific, direct feedback about a particular issue. More often than not, it’s led to some great conversations, and I can think of at least three times it’s resulted in a solid friendship. (I have to be careful here not to reveal authors’ identities because of the Amazon Review Watchdogs.) Those reviews are highly valuable to us. A low rating with a clear explanation is more sought-after than a high rating with some fluffy, bubbly text which tells us nothing.

4. It isn’t necessarily your job to “help” us.

This one is going to get me in trouble. My own opinion is that I’m not looking at reviews of my work to learn how to be a better writer. A reviewer may feel that’s their purpose, but those are the reviews I ignore. It simply isn’t the format I find most helpful to my ongoing process. I also think it smacks of a certain degree of arrogance on the reviewer’s part. I had one recently which said my writing was bad, which it very well may be. However, the exact same book had several reviewers who felt exactly the opposite. So whose “help” do I choose? If I took every single criticism to heart, I would be a wreck, so that’s out of the question. They’re not even all correct. Trust me, when I tried to do that, I ended up writing a book that I hated, and judging by reviews, readers didn’t like it too much either. The overall sense I got was that readers prefer me when I’m the real me, not their version of me. Reminds me of the song from Free to be…you and me: “Some kinds of help are the kind of help that helping’s all about. And some kinds of help are the kind of help we all could do without.” (Oh, god…please tell me there are other children of the ’70s who remember this album!)

5. Reviews should be about the content, not the minutiae.

I do think it’s acceptable to point out if a book was unedited or the editing was sub-par. But do I want a review which says that I misspelled something on page 34? No. I read a lot, I review a lot, and I edit people’s work, so I have a trained eye. Trust me, even books from Big Five publishers have typos. Pointing a couple out in a self-published or small press book is kind of pedantic. I have had a couple of people whose only reactions to my work are along the lines of, “You missed an end quote on page 86.” Literally nothing about the plot and characters, and not even general comments about the style, flow, and word use. I’ve seen reviewers go after an author because they hated the title. Didn’t even read the book. Take a step back, breathe, and maybe think about why you wish to point out nothing but these picky details without discussing anything else.

6. Reviews may not be the best place to discuss poor editing.

I don’t think it’s wrong, necessarily. I’ve pointed it out in reviews. For people who struggle to read poorly constructed sentences, it’s probably a good idea to know from a review if a book has that problem. I mentioned yesterday that I found The Handmaid’s Tale to have this problem. However, all that’s required is a mention. It doesn’t need a paragraph describing it in detail or listing all the flaws in hopes the author will go back and edit. If you really want to go to that much trouble, try contacting the publisher (or the author if it’s self-published). We’re not all that hard to find, even big name authors. I think for me, what it amounts to is if you’re not willing to talk to the author directly about it, and you’re not willing to contact the editor or publisher, then a public review (which the author may not even read) isn’t the best place. You may be inadvertently calling out an author who can’t afford a better editor. Suggesting maybe that person shouldn’t have published something if they couldn’t pay is classism.

7. Please tag your reviews for spoilers.

I’ve put spoilers in a review before. The few times I’ve done so, it’s because I thought some of the content might be triggering for readers. I may have put in spoilers on a small number of other occasions when something was done particularly well but was integral to the plot. In every case, I white it out or use spoiler tags. I make it clear my review contains such content. It is really, really aggravating to me as a reader to have a story ruined before I’ve read it. It’s extremely frustrating as an author to have worked hard to lead up to a big reveal in the plot but have reviewers take away the fun for readers. Just don’t.

8. Leave meanness for private conversations with your friends.

You and your three besties hate some book? Fine. Go mock it to your hearts’ content in a private discussion. A review is not the place to pile on an author. It’s not just about the hurt feelings of the author. When one reviewer shreds a book and twenty other people who have not even read it jump in to participate, it creates a toxic atmosphere. I’m aware that people sometimes need to express anger because a book has perpetuated, say, racial stereotypes. That’s not what I’m talking about. I won’t name names, but I’m guessing there are people reading this who know exactly the type of thing I mean. (For my own safety, if you do, please, please, please do not provide any identifying details in the comments. I don’t need those folks coming after me. Seriously. You know they will.)

9. Reviews work best when they are clear, direct, and specific.

I mentioned yesterday that authors rarely get upset over 5-star reviews, and I was informed by several people that some do. If the review contains spoilers or if the review has no substance, some authors will vent about it. (I maintain that the level of upset is still a lot lower than a 1-star review containing spoilers or with no real explanation.) The thing is, I’m pretty forgiving. I know that not all readers are able to write well, and I think it’s a bit snobby on our part to expect that they do so. But that only applies to the average reader, who really might be just leaving a quick note to say they liked or didn’t like the book. Reviews provided by book blogs and online media sources need to be well-crafted for a number of reasons.

The reasons why you like or dislike a book are important. For me, as someone who also spends time in social justice arenas, I need specifics if you find something problematic in what I’ve written. My personal goal as an author is to represent a wide variety of people and do so respectfully. It’s not a matter of “diversity for diversity’s sake.” For me, it’s about the people in my own life and honoring and celebrating the wide range of people I know. So if I’ve done it poorly, not only do I need to know, I need to know what specifically was inappropriate. Writing a review which says, “This book is transphobic AF” tells me nothing. (Note: This applies only to people pointing out what I’ve done but who are not part of that marginalized group. I don’t expect marginalized folk to educate me.)

10. We don’t always read our reviews.

No matter how good your intentions, and no matter how hard you’ve worked on a review, we may not read it. I tend not to read my reviews unless I’ve been contacted directly or I’ve sent a review request. Just like you ultimately have the right to put whatever you want in a review, I have the right not to read it. Being indignant because your opinion went unheeded by me is silly. If you want me to see it, then contact me. I’m really easy to reach by multiple social media avenues, all of which are conveniently listed on this blog (and I think on Goodreads, too). Just so you know, even if I’m not reading your reviews, I’m still glad you’re voicing your opinion. I’m glad you read my book, even if you hated it. And I wholeheartedly believe that even if you ignore everything on this list, you have the right to do as you choose without fearing that I will go after you publicly. You have my guarantee.

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I hope that my two posts have given both authors and reviewers some things to think about. Neither list is exhaustive, and both lists are my own opinions based on experience. You don’t have to agree, and you’re welcome to add more to either list.

It’s difficult to be a person on both sides of the situation because I’ve seen a lot of unnecessary hurt and drama. The fact is, for those of us who are self-published or with small presses, we often rely on each other for multiple parts of the process. That can produce some unhealthy interactions. Maybe if we work to understand each other we can build better trust and community.

A recent (and somewhat contentious) discussion on what “belongs” in a book review prompted me to consider the question at a deeper level. I’ve been reviewing books for a few years, and it’s something I genuinely enjoy doing. I love to read, and my reviews at this point are split 50/50 between what I’ve bought and free review copies provided by authors/publishers.

As an author, I can understand wanting to receive good reviews. This is especially true for people who are self-published or go through a small press. We don’t get the advantage of being picked up for review by the New York Times unless our work manages to viral. It’s even more true for niche writers, such as those of us writing LGBTQ+ literature.

That said, there are a few misconceptions people have about what it’s like to be a reviewer. So I’m going to clear up some things.

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1. Reviews are not for the author.

That should be obvious, right? I mean, sometimes they are. Uncle Bob writes a cookbook of his favorite chili recipes, or Grandma Jane writes a mystery-thriller with a crime-solving horse, and every family member might get a copy and review it on Goodreads. But most reviews are not personal gifts (or punishments) for the author. The purpose is to tell the world what the reviewer thought of it so they can decide whether or not to buy it themselves.

2. Reviews are not personal.

Even if someone thought a book was complete horseshit, chances are good they don’t know the author. Part of that is Amazon’s rules. You can’t review books for people you know, although how they determine your level of “knowing” someone is debatable.

I have actually tried to write a review with the author in mind. The person is my “author crush” (you know, the one who writes in your genre who you’d like to be when you grow up). I read a book and tried very, very hard to make it personal, and yet I still had to put in something for readers. I have many people following me on Goodreads expressly for my reviews, and it seemed unfair not to make sure they didn’t one-click just because I loved it.

3. Reviews are personal opinions. Yes, all of them.

Even if a book is critiquing only the literary style, the plot, and the character development, it is still the reviewer’s own opinion whether or not the author did it well. This is true regardless of whether the author is Uncle Bob, Grandma Jane, or Neighbor Joe or if it’s J.K. Rowling, Stephen King, or Ernest Hemingway. If you doubt this, go look at the reviews for any author published with a Big Five house or any book considered classic literature. You will find people who simply use the space to say they hated it or it was the best thing since sliced bread, but you’ll also find people who authoritatively critique the so-called objective elements. Reviews are opinions, but some people are better at expressing them than others. And some people just want a good story and don’t care if you are a minimalist (Hemingway) or love your adverbs (Rowling). What makes a book good or not is subjective and depends on a whole lot of factors.

I found that The Handmaid’s Tale was a fantastic story but painful to read because it was not well edited. It wasn’t a deal-breaker, but I struggled. I don’t like to have to work that hard to enjoy something, and that would have factored into my review if I’d posted it. Whereas another reader might not have minded or even noticed the issues. I cried my way through Elizabeth Berg’s The Art of Mending because the characters were so similar to people I knew. I read them as being well-written because I could sense them so well. Another reader said they hated that book because the characterization was bland. Which of us was correct?

4. Reviewers have the right to determine for themselves their criteria.

Because books and reading are both personal and communal experiences, there’s no set of rules to determine precisely what makes a book good. There are some common elements, but even those are subjective. Some readers have a set of things they look for as marks of a good example of the book’s genre. Others are looking primarily for entertainment. Neither of those is better than another. Personally, I’m looking for a book that both entertains me and speaks to me as a person striving for social justice. Anything that takes a step backwards is probably going to get a content note from me. If a book features a black character but I end up feeling like I’d be embarrassed to give it to my black friends to read, it’s not getting a good rating. There might be a few people in my circle who would love it anyway, but I’m more concerned with the wider implications. I recently gave a high rating to a book which had less than spectacular writing style but addressed a social issue that’s relatively uncommon in fiction. Other people were much more bothered by the author’s style than I was, and I don’t have a problem with that. After all, what good is a book that has an important message but readers find irritating to read? It’s okay for both of those things to exist simultaneously. In fact, it’s ideal—it gives potential readers a chance to understand more about the book and make their own decision.

5. Reviews for websites are generally not professional.

The definition of professional is “paid.” So if reviewers for a given website are not receiving payment for their content, they are not professional reviewers. That’s not to say they shouldn’t be good at what they do, but you can’t expect the same level of writing from a website called “Friends Love Books” as from the NY Times. That said, you should be able to expect higher quality writing from a book blog/website than from someone who happens to have picked up the book for fun and decided to leave a review. If you’re mostly getting poorly written reviews which don’t tell you anything about why the book is or isn’t good, you have the right to avoid sending things to that website for review.

6. Not all reviews come from websites.

People read stuff. They like it or they don’t. Sometimes they post their reviews. Positive reviews might be a way to find like-minded readers for discussion. A lot of people who write negative reviews do it because they’re venting or want to be validated by other readers. Is it sometimes annoying? Yes. But we’re not hall monitors of the internet, and we can’t control what other people think or type. Best to ignore it and scroll on past, no matter how hard it is not to look.

7. No one complains about positive reviews.

In all the time I’ve been reviewing, I have never once seen someone gripe that a favorable review was unprofessional, biased, or otherwise a bad thing. The most I’ve seen is people wishing that readers wouldn’t leave only a star rating, but they say the same regardless of the number of stars. Other than that, most authors are thrilled by positive reviews. You could write absolute nonsense and no one would gripe that it’s badly written tripe. The second your star rating dips below a 3, it becomes an issue of “bias.” Perhaps rethink this.

8. The power of a reviewer vs. an author is not a zero-sum game.

An author’s career does not rest on a single 1-star review from Judy’s Favorite Reads that calls the book overly sentimental trash. Both authors and reviewers have the power to destroy each other, especially if the reviewer is also an author. The recent episodes with people attempting to reveal an author’s personal details or the times authors have gone shark-attack on reviewers for negative feedback are proof. It’s unnecessary to create that much drama just because someone didn’t like your alien cowboy tentacle erotica. Equally bad is for a reviewer to personally attack an author because they didn’t like some fussy detail. You don’t launch a Twitter battle because you have an overly developed sense of righteousness. It’s not the review that harms; it’s the vicious actions people take apart from it. We may all hate Amazon’s ever-changing review policies, and they certainly need some nuance, but they do help in some of these situations.

9. Readers have the right to not like something and say so.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard, “Well, why did you read it if you didn’t like it?” Sometimes I finish it because I was asked to. Sometimes I think it’s going to be the type of thing I like, only to discover it contains material I find offensive later in the story. I have a list on my blog and on my page for the site I review for, and I make it clear what I will and won’t take. I’ve had authors lie to me outright or by-pass my rules because they think theirs is an exception. I’ve also had times when the content is what I was willing to take, but it turns out the author and I don’t define it the same way. I usually finish a book because I want to give it a fair chance. For example, I don’t read books marketed as “gay for you.” But I’ve read books which looked like they were going that direction and ended up being fantastic by the end. A book can’t always be evaluated based on the first couple of chapters.

10. It takes a long time to craft a good review.

I spend anywhere from 30 minutes to 2 hours on a review post, depending on the length of the book and the genre. A romantic comedy short story takes much less time to review than a literary story of the same length. This isn’t because the literary work is “objectively better” or even because I like one genre more than the other. I see them as being entirely different things which I will evaluate based on many factors, and I’m not comparing the two when I read or when I review. This is why I can give Harry Potter (any of them) the exact same star rating as The Old Man and the Sea. I’m not evaluating poor Harry as a work of high literature; I’m viewing those books as engaging children’s/young adult books.

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Ultimately, the question of what “belongs” in a review is the wrong thing to be asking. It’s not my job as an author to cater to reviewers (I’ve tried that; the experiment did not go well). Nor is it my job as a reviewer to stroke an author’s ego (that also ends badly the first time you hate one of their books). In both cases, it’s only my job to do the best I can with the tools at my disposal and hope someone gets something out of my work.