There are aspects of the rise of online booksellers, e-books, reader-reviews and the general phenomena surrounding reading and the internet that I like very much. But there are also parts of it I abhor. Self-publishing, the rise of small e-book presses and the refusal of publishers to do the marketing they once did has meant that much of the promotion of a new book falls onto the writer. Personally, I find it deeply embarrassing. My job as I see it is to write as well as I can and inform potential readers of my books’ availability – in moderation! That’s it. There are writers who put a lot more effort into self-promotion; I respect them for their energy, but I just can’t do it. However, when writers get rude and pushy and demand not only reviews, but GOOD reviews, I draw the line. That’s beyond the pale.
I just read a rather disturbing blog post over at The Masquerade Crew, by @DianthaJones on some of the staggering harassment she’s had from writers: How not to piss off a book blogger.
To writers:
I commiserate with writers. If you’ve spent the better part of six months to a year carefully crafting a novel, lovingly bringing the story and characters to life, then it can seem very disappointing when your acclaim, sales and reviews don’t seem to reflect that effort. But I would like to be clear: just because you want to be a writer doesn’t mean anyone owes you anything. You don’t have a right to earn a living at it just because you think you deserve it. And if this isn’t tolerable to you, there are many other jobs and endeavors that are more likely to reward your efforts. You should find another. Either write because you love it and you feel a sense of accomplishment from doing it, or don’t do it at all.
You also don’t have the right to keep pushing your book down everyone’s throats on every social media platform available. Yes, please inform us when you publish something new. And please offer us some insight to your work and your craft. But for god’s sake, it has gotten to the point where I am loathe to follow writers on Twitter for fear my timeline will become nothing but a stream of ads of ‘buy my book’.
I’ve never requested a review and I won’t give a book away for free to get one. I know this is common practice, but it offends me to do it. If someone has paid for my book and then reviews it, I feel it is a supreme compliment, whether the review is good or bad. They’ve paid their money, read the thing, and have every right to have an opinion on it and to express that opinion – but not the obligation to do so. And, good or bad, a review means that a reader has gone above and beyond the call in not only spending the time to read the book, but the additional time and thought to give it a review.
Yes, I agree that the rise of the reader-reviewed sites and sales outlets has meant that the landscape of critical literary response has changed dramatically. Readers, as opposed to critics, have been empowered to have their opinions heard like never before. And yes, they don’t feel the same obligation to give anything but a gut-level response. Some reviews I’ve read are poorly constructed, unthoughtful and sometimes – I have heard through the rumour mill – strategically vicious. This is the price we pay for the rise of these technologies. But, keep in mind, prior to this, a writer had to cross her fingers and blindly hope that some professional critic would bother to peruse the book and give it some response. Most writers published into silence and the only feedback they ever got was a sales sheet at the end of the year. Things aren’t perfect now, but they’re better.
However, the bottom line is: if you can’t take a bad review, don’t publish your book. Period.
To readers:
As I said before, readers now have a power to express their opinions, promote books they’ve enjoyed and criticize books they didn’t enjoy in a way that, even a decade ago, was unimagined. However, your public outlet comes with some responsibility. Whether your review is positive or negative, once you decide to air your opinion publicly, you do have an ethical obligation to give reasons for your opinion. Otherwise, it informs no one; it’s just an unthinking exhibition of your delight or your disgust. It doesn’t add to the debate and it turns the reader-review landscape into a mud-bath of unreasoned reactions.
Also, if you’re reviewing outside your favourite genre, then be big enough to admit it. Say you don’t usually read (insert genre here) and so your reaction is not one moderated by any great knowledge of other books within the genre. Well-considered reviews are contextual, so if you don’t have context, be kind enough to fess up. Your honesty adds legitimacy to what you say next.
To readers and writers:
We need to be respectful of the fact that we are all walking an unfamiliar path. Our ability to communicate with each other over published works has never been like this before. Readers want to read good books and enjoy them. Writers want to write good books and have them read. There are limits to what we can expect from each other.
No reader has the right to expect to read a work of considerable length for free, but they do have the right to expect a fair level of craft on the part of the writer. No writer has the right to expect that all readers are going to love their books, and they need to understand that for every person who loves it, there are probably an equal number of readers who didn’t. Anything else is delusional.
Play nice, people. We need each other.
What can I say? Brava, and thank you. My thoughts exactly.
I could not have stated it any better. Very thoughtful treatment of very real metamorphosis of the writer-reader-critic dynamic.
Still a novice at this whole writing/publishing game, I’m honestly appalled at the behavior I see fellow authors engaging in. I’d like to think I’d be better than that, given the opportunity. However, one little piece of your blog post bothered me. It’s where you say, “You don’t have a right to earn a living at it just because you think you deserve it.” I realize what you’re really trying to say, but the starkness of these words still irks me.
You see, I *do* have a right to at least try to earn a living doing what I love, and I do think I will have deserved it if I succeed.
But no, I don’t think any author is *entitled* to success. We all still have to earn it. And being an asshole to the people who would help you up your ladder is not going to endear you to anyone. I’d like to think I would behave differently and your post definitely helps broaden my awareness. Thank you.
“You see, I *do* have a right to at least try to earn a living doing what I love”
You absolutely have the right to try. But that is not what I said. I have met a lot of very bitter writers with a raging sense of entitlement. It makes them personally miserable and very unpleasant to be around. It’s incredibly hard to earn a living as a writer. Hardly ever has it had anything to do with how well you write – evidenced by the brain-numbing popularity of writers like Dan Brown and E.L. James.
My point really was: first, write because you love to write. Any other primary motivation is going to make you a deeply disappointed person.
I don’t have an issue with other authors succeeding. I work in my own little bubble and I applaud any writer out there who succeeds in getting on a bestseller list. I want to write, no matter what. I’d love to be able to make a living at it, but I’m not quitting my day job anytime soon. But I’m also not going to stop thinking about how much I want to write full-time and trying to work my way toward being able to do that. I used to feel lost, wondering what the hell I had to offer to the world doing what I was doing… shuffling around in corporate monotony. Now I have a passion. I found it late, but it’s here and it won’t fucking shut up. I don’t feel entitled, I just need to write, and if I can capitalize on the products of my imagination, all the better.
I’m entranced by the vast disparity that exists within this industry as a whole, but I suppose it’s the same with any industry. Some will thrive while others wither.
Maybe the uproar over E.L. James’ success is a knee-jerk response to us thinking the evolution of writing is heading in that direction. If she’s the fittest what does that signify? The thing is, popular culture works very differently. Fads rise and fall like the drop of a hat. She’ll fade away eventually but she’ll make room for a more open interest in women’s sexuality in general. It’s already happening. I’m irritated by the lack of skill in the writing I’m seeing as a result, but I have no doubt it’s making room for women who might have the skill, but still lack the courage to put themselves out there and write more frankly about sex. In that sense E.L. James is a pioneer.
In the film, “Real Genius,” there’s a scene showing a classroom full of small tape recorders (one on each student’s desk, no actual students), each recording a lecture being “given” by the tape recorder up front. No professor, no students. No one is really “there,” much less listening live, or interacting at all. My Twitter stream (authors) reminds me of that.