Hit Me, Baby. One More Time.
“I have been harboring a nagging suspicion about Malcolm Gladwell for some time now. There is a word that keeps knocking at the back of my mind. That word is ‘fraud’. I suspect, in short, that Malcolm Gladwell is a fraud. I finally picked up his book from a couple of years ago, Blink. He subtitles it “The Power of Thinking Without Thinking.” The book oozes with a slickness, a snake oil salesman’s set of cheap tricks and pseudo-intellectual come-ons. My feeling of distaste is so strong that I’ve come in a perverse way to admire Mr. Gladwell. He has caused me to hate again. I hate Blink.”
“The first punctuation mistake in “Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation” (Gotham; $17.50), by Lynne Truss, a British writer, appears in the dedication, where a nonrestrictive clause is not preceded by a comma. It is a wild ride downhill from there. “Eats, Shoots & Leaves” presents itself as a call to arms, in a world spinning rapidly into subliteracy, by a hip yet unapologetic curmudgeon, a stickler for the rules of writing. But it’s hard to fend off the suspicion that the whole thing might be a hoax.”
Do you have any idea how hard it was to find actual published reviews of an author being trashed by bona fide critics from the media (reviews on amazon.com don’t count)? It’s amazing. You’d think that in the age of the internet, with its all-access pass and unlimited staying power, this kind of acid spewage would have websites devoted to it, maybe even corporate sponsorship, but no. Nope, not anymore. Uh uh. In today’s enlightened era of political correctness, criticism like this is mean; and we can’t have that because it might hurt someone’s feelings. God forbid we do something like that.
Believe it or not, I actually enjoy reading reviews like this from critics: they’re entertaining. How could you not laugh about that diva nonrestrictive clause refusing to go on stage after a second-string piece of punctuation like the comma? Why, the rest of the paragraph would laugh her right out of the book if that happened! Seriously though, the aforementioned reviews are good writing, but not simply because they’re grammatically acceptable. They are passionate in their hatred which translates into a perverse sense of fun for the reader. It brings the normally dry, uninspired criticism to life and compels us to read more. Tabloids have this quality, and we know how popular they are, but do we take them seriously? Be honest, after reading those reviews in the introduction, are you more likely to remember the venomous quips or the books themselves?
Writing a book is hard enough; shouldn’t our public just be grateful for our offerings and forgive the occasional imperfections? Apparently not, but hey, it helps keep us honest. Before bothering to react to criticism however, consider the source first. Is the reviewer well-established in the industry or could it be an un-credentialed intern filling in at the last minute? Is the critique backed with specific examples from your book or is it a broad hatchet job attacking you, the book and the parents who bore you? Finally, ask yourself if there’s any merit to what the reviewer is saying. Can this be a learning experience that will enable you to take your future books to even greater heights (you know, after you’re done sticking all those pins into the little doll)? If nothing else, consider the possibility of publicity derived from controversy. A bad review can get people talking about your book, exchanging ideas and maybe even swaying opinions. Isn’t that what we writers want, more people reading and learning, regardless of circumstance?
Before you scream out the resounding,”Noooooooooooo…” that is your worst nightmare, allow me to propose a theory. It’s a little unconventional, but give it a chance: a bad review is not the end of the world.
“Maybe not your world, Newbie. Talk to us when you have a book published. It’s not fun when you’re on the other end of that criticism!”
“Yeah, nobody even knows who you are. We have reputations to protect. You don’t have a clue what it’s really like out there.”
Okay, true, I don’t have my book published yet, nor have I encountered the review that will end my career before it’s even begun, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t given the matter much thought. So quick to judge, you people. Once again I’m going to drag you back to the beginning. Book reviews are subjective: they’re only opinions. And an even more shocking notion: bad reviews shouldn’t be taken personally. Now before you decide I’m a complete twit, when I say bad reviews shouldn’t be taken personally it’s because the intended target isn’t the author, but rather the book. Cold comfort perhaps considering the amount of personal attention that went into creating that book, but it is an important distinction. The critique is not about you as a person; it’s about what you’ve sent into the world to be judged- and judged it will be.
Think about this: when you’re discussing books… movies… sports teams… with your friends and you have a conflicting opinion, do you put on your PC face and speak only in neutral terms? Would the conversation go like, “It certainly is a shame that Green Bay and Brett Farve couldn’t come to an amicable agreement on Farve’s position in the Packers organization?” Or is it more likely to be, “Ted Thompson was a damn fool for letting Farve go to New York and Farve was a traitor for leaving?” Presumably, it would be the latter and few fans would have trouble repeating that on camera if the opportunity arose. Now, is that flattering to hear? No, but should Ted Thompson or Brett Farve cry in their beer over it? I don’t think so, but then I’m not them- again, subjective.
Some might argue that candid criticism has no place in a public forum and to that I say, “Why not? What is the big deal?” It’s not that I’m looking for a community bloodletting, but if people truly believe in what they have to say, why shouldn’t they be comfortable standing behind it, in public or not? Is the strength of a person’s character no longer considered a virtue? Isn’t it better to know where people stand than to play politics and be left to wonder? Don’t reviewers have an obligation to be honest with their audience? If something they’ve read comes across as utter dreck, shouldn’t reviewers have the courage of their convictions to say so instead of worrying about how they will be perceived and how their images might suffer? Why make the faithful readers suffer a bad book unnecessarily: where is the justice?
I don’t understand why are people so afraid to say and write what they really think. People judge you everyday whether you know it or not. They can only make you feel bad if you let them. My advice: don’t let them.
Look, how you choose to react to a bad review is completely up to you. If you want to burst into tears and vow to never pick up a pen again, so be it. If you want to invest your 401K into a national ad campaign refuting every negative review you’ve ever received, have at it. Or you could simply decide not to read any of your reviews and nip that problem in the bud straight away. The point is, the fallout is only as bad as you allow it to be. As always, the ball is in your court.
