Why I don't write (or read) bad reviews
I once was a bad review aficionado. I'd cherry-pick all the most negative reviews and read them first. 1-star? Surely more useful than all the gushing 5-star reviews that didn't say much about the book beyond, "I <3 this!!!" I preferred snarky, intelligent commentaries exploring the mechanics of why a particular character sucked or why the author was to be avoided. Books that have less mud slung at them must be better books. Right?
But.
Bad reviews and I have broken up. We're no longer seeing each other. Occasionally, I glance at an unpleasant review of a book I just read, or even break the taboo of glimpsing a not-so-nice review of my own novel. Believe it or not, my reviewing philosophy changed before I became a published author, before I crossed my fingers and toes in the hopes that readers would love my book and not pick it to pieces in the pursuit of a snarky laugh.
Now, I'm more likely to roll my eyes at a reviewer's attempt to cleverly eviscerate a work of fiction. To me, it's like listening to a kid rant about the disgusting taste of broccoli. Or worse, an adult eating a cake someone baked and then publicly dissing the poor confection. That's just rude. Sure, food critics exist. I don't read their opinions, because I figure that if I want to know whether I'll like a culinary creation, I'll have to taste it myself. No amount of broccoli-haters will deter me from trying it--and loving it. And no amount of book-haters will stop me from cracking open a new novel.
If I had a book reviewing clone with identical tastes, then maybe I'd pay attention. But since there's no Karen II who loves absolutely everything I love, I don't see why anti-recommendations help in the slightest. You hate my favorite book? Whatever. I want a reviewer raving about the deliciousness of a new paranormal romance, so I can drool in anticipation, rather than a killjoy reviewer who stops me from trying something.
Sure, an exciting debate between good and bad reviews can make me curious about the book being fought over, but more often than not, a bad review taints my opinion of a book so that I'm hesitant to even pick it up. Because in the end, bad reviews--unless they backfire--encourage people to read less books, not more. As an author and bookaholic, that's a fate much worse than literary gluttony. Give me recommendations any day, and I'll do the taste-testing myself.
Originally published at KarenKincy.com.
But.
Bad reviews and I have broken up. We're no longer seeing each other. Occasionally, I glance at an unpleasant review of a book I just read, or even break the taboo of glimpsing a not-so-nice review of my own novel. Believe it or not, my reviewing philosophy changed before I became a published author, before I crossed my fingers and toes in the hopes that readers would love my book and not pick it to pieces in the pursuit of a snarky laugh.
Now, I'm more likely to roll my eyes at a reviewer's attempt to cleverly eviscerate a work of fiction. To me, it's like listening to a kid rant about the disgusting taste of broccoli. Or worse, an adult eating a cake someone baked and then publicly dissing the poor confection. That's just rude. Sure, food critics exist. I don't read their opinions, because I figure that if I want to know whether I'll like a culinary creation, I'll have to taste it myself. No amount of broccoli-haters will deter me from trying it--and loving it. And no amount of book-haters will stop me from cracking open a new novel.
If I had a book reviewing clone with identical tastes, then maybe I'd pay attention. But since there's no Karen II who loves absolutely everything I love, I don't see why anti-recommendations help in the slightest. You hate my favorite book? Whatever. I want a reviewer raving about the deliciousness of a new paranormal romance, so I can drool in anticipation, rather than a killjoy reviewer who stops me from trying something.
Sure, an exciting debate between good and bad reviews can make me curious about the book being fought over, but more often than not, a bad review taints my opinion of a book so that I'm hesitant to even pick it up. Because in the end, bad reviews--unless they backfire--encourage people to read less books, not more. As an author and bookaholic, that's a fate much worse than literary gluttony. Give me recommendations any day, and I'll do the taste-testing myself.
Originally published at KarenKincy.com.