Thursday, May 9, 2013

The Thing About Reviews

The thing about reviews is that every writer craves them. Some won't admit it, some absolutely refuse to read them, but it's the one thing we all want as writers -- validity. At least there was one person who read MY book, and has something to say about it.

Good or bad, we take what we get.

I remember when I got my first reviews. I couldn't breathe. My heart beat unnaturally. I thought I might puke. I actually held my breath until I read the number. 5,4,3,2,1.

Now, after so many good, bad, and just plain weird, when I see I have a new review, I cringe until I see the number. I'm afraid to read what someone might say. I keep telling myself I shouldn't even bother reading them. But I do.

A good review is like having your 26th birthday over again. It can set you up for weeks of nonsensical smiling.

A bad review will have you shaking in your shoes. And in bed for most of a perfectly good weekend.

Writers, or any kind of artist really, are solitary by nature. We don't like to spend a lot of time in the "real world". However, we know that ulitmately our goal is to have our work read. To have a good review, you need an unbiased opinion. Joe America is our preferred reviewer. Someone we don't know, who lives and works in another part of the world, read our book. And left his opinion of it. And those kinds of reviews are the ones that count the most.

Good or bad.

I don't solicit reviews because when I do, the reviews never get written. So my reviews are from people whom I didn't ask to write them. I tried contacting a couple of review sites, but I had no luck. Some of their reading lists were 8 months out. So my reviews come from Joe America.

It's nice to know that I can write something and have it read by someone who lets me know, good or bad, how they liked it. I know I can't please everyone, but to have someone say, "Hey, I liked what you wrote." just makes the grass a little greener.

And if you know a writer, and have read their book, go write a review. It'll make their day.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Are Your Friends Jealous of You?

I got a birthday card last week from my best friend. We've been friends since 1978. We were so close at one time, we could finish each others sentences, and often times, read each other's thoughts. But when I had the Monster, and then moved away to NC, our relationship changed. Not in a bad way, just life. I haven't seen her in over four years, haven't really talked to her either, sporadic phone calls at Christmas or birthdays at best. The card came out of the blue. And I say that because I wasn't expecting it. Now that we're "older" we don't celebrate the milestones like we used to.

Anyway, it wasn't so much the card that got me, it was the message inside. She told me how proud she was of me, and I had been the only person she ever knew that ever truly followed her dreams. She knew I always wanted to be a writer.

And this got me thinking to other friends I've had. Kathy for one. We were roommates for a couple of years back in the 90's. Then jobs took us in different directions. (She actually spent 5 years teaching in China.) Last year she called me, (another out of the blue -- almost 10 years) wanted to know how I was, where I was, what I was doing. I was excited to hear from her and we spent almost 2 hours on the phone. She promised to keep in touch. I sent her an email with photos of the Monster, and copies of the couple of books I had already published (because she wanted them). I never heard from her again.

Then there's Kelly. We were friends from the restaurant. The last time I spoke to her, she wanted to know how I was, what I was doing. I told her I'd self-published a few books. She wanted to know if they were selling. I told her they were. And then she changed the subject. I let it go, but during our conversation, another question she asked brought me back to my writing endeavor. When I tried to answer her, she said, "Oh, that's just a hobby. What do you do for "real work"? I don't have to tell you that writing is "real work".

So tell me, are your friends jealous of you, or do they support you?