Review Envy
I'm disappointed with myself for caring so much whether people review my posted fan fiction or not.
It seems to me that, given that there's no money in fan fiction, the only reasons to do it are (1) to have the creative experience itself, (2) to touch other people, and (3) to get to indulge yourself in the characters and the settings you love. ( Read more... )
Ken, I feel just the way you do. When I posted the first three chapters of MoO, I treasured every single review I got. 10 reviews for 3 chapters was really wonderful. People had read my story, odd as it was, and at least taken the time to let me know that they'd done so. Because, really, that's what those "Dude! Update soon!" reviews are . . . "I wuz here" graffiti on your story. Unlike most graffiti, however, they have value by their very existence.
You have to understand that I'm a little obsessive compulsive about numbers and analyses. I track, chart, and manipulate anything I can quantify, including reviews, views, favorites... all of that mess. So as I published more chapters, I watched more reviews arrive, and the craving grew. A review/chapter ratio of 3.33 was no longer acceptable. I wanted 5. Then 10. Every time a new chapter got a few more reviews than previous chapter, the craving grew. To this day, I can tell you that ratio to the third decimal place.
Then, horror of horrors, I got nominated for a DSTA. The pattern started over. It was great to be nominated. It was great to get even one vote in any category. Anything else was just icing on the icing. The next month, I wanted more votes, and I felt a strange resentment towards the stories that had won so many times, even though I knew (and still know) that they are at least as good as my own.
Then I won one. O frabjous day! I have achieved something and can now rest content! My worthiness has been validated.
Then I won a couple more, and I had become one of the Them. A mutual friend of ours, who is disturbingly perceptive about many things, told me that anything I posted would get a certain amount of attention, just because my name was on it. I voted for her story, because it truly was better than mine, but it wasn't enough.
And you know what? I still feel exactly as you describe. Chapter 14 got an insane 88 reviews, in spite of the fact that I was horribly nervous about posting it (for obvious reasons). When 15 came out, I wondered what I'd done wrong. Now, anytime a chapter gets less than 30.278 reviews, I wonder if I've lost my touch and everyone hates my story now. Today, my latest chapter got its 30th, and I literally sighed in relief.
How insane is that? I write MoO because I like playing with the concepts I've based it on. I value feedback from no more than a dozen people, and 12 is a heck of a lot less than 30. I honestly don't consider reviews or awards when I'm writing, but when the time comes to post a chapter or vote for awards, I find myself obsessing about them again.
As for the DSTAs... I now fear that I am denying wonderful authors their moment in the popular sun, simply because people recognize my name. And yet I have a spreadsheet of the voting results for the entire year, and I update it 2-3 times a day while the polls are open.
So I don't know the answer, but you've found the right question. Why, when we know what's really important to us, do we still crave the frivolities?
Dave
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There's a quotation from Donald Kingsbury's novel Courtship Rite (a really fun, weird book, by the way) that I can't give you verbatim because all our books are packed away until this beknighted home renovation is over. Here's the gist of it: "There once was a girl who had beautiful dreams. She sang in the street, telling passers-by of her dreams and begging coins to help her realize them. As each listener gave her a coin, she sewed it into her dress. Years passed, and she became an old woman, her clothes in rags, still in the street, her dress held together only by the coins. A passer-by came and handed her a coin, saying, 'Sing to me of your dreams.' Her reply, as she snatched it from his hand, was, 'I dream of coins.' "
Dave, you've caught the feeling exactly. Part of me thinks that this is the two different sides of my brain warring with each other -- the right brain wants truth & beauty, the left brain wants a measurable reward. Or maybe this is my Hufflepuff side vs. my Slytherin side? My Earth vs. my Air? My George vs. my Ringo?
Really, I almost want to blame this on evolution.
Ken
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