The value of bad book reviews

Being a published author means I have to regularly confront the scariest part of being a human – being critiqued. 

Recently, I read my first truly brutal book review of something I wrote. In the category of roses and thorns in the book business, this was definitely a thorn. 

I had never had this experience before. I’ve been critiqued by professors, mentors, and other no-nonsense writers. But that’s bearable because I can at least “fix” what they are critiquing. When it comes to having a book published, it’s out of my hands, so being critiqued on something that’s fully baked feels strange. 

The last book was – for the most part – ignored by reviewers because I did not seek out an audience. I naively assumed people would find it on their own, which means outside of friends and family, not many people know it existed. This time, I hired a great publicity company that specializes in authors. Jackie and the BooksForward team have worked hard to get my book in front of the bookstagrammers, book bloggers the Goodreads tastemakers, and booktok stars. People are talking. People are reading it. In fact, more and more people every day are saying good things about it. But that doesn’t guarantee that new readers have to love it. It is their right and prerogative to say how they really feel about something I wrote.

But it still stings when someone says they hated something.

In a weird way, It was a similar feeling to when a boss or authority figure has yelled in me. That shaky feeling of, “Oh my God, I messed up and this person is mad at me,” surged through my body like cold, cold panic. I did not enjoy it. 

But that’s show biz, baby.

I knew immediately after I’d read my unflattering review that I was officially part of the arts and entertainment industry … someone did not like what I made. In fact, they kind of hated it. Perhaps I will receive my “official writer” sash in the mail with an “unflattering review” merit badge already affixed to it?

When I first started writing years ago, I met someone who ran a review website specifically for romance and paranormal romance. And they did a really good business with it. They had a whole team of reviewers under them and it was all online. And I thought it would be fun to review books. I wanted in. I volunteered my services as a reviewer because I loved to read and I could write. She said yes, and off I went. I thought if I could do this, then maybe I could launch my own side hustle of writing reviews while I wrote books! Sounds smart and reasonable!. 

I lasted all of two months.

Turns out, I did not enjoy the job as much as I thought I would. And the moment I realized this was after I submitted a review of a fantasy/fairy/erotica/adventure novella. I nailed the writer for sexposition (which Game of Thrones made visible on HBO two years later – so, this writer was well ahead of their time). I used many negative adjectives. I went full-on Dorothy Parker. I was cutting, quipping, and maybe a little boozy. And smug. That, too.

And the author reached out. I found myself in a comments section having a conversation with them. They weren’t mad at me. In fact, they were incredibly cool over it. They LOL’d some of the cutting remarks I made. They took everything as constructive criticism, and in the end, they thanked me. What a class act! I felt like complete and utter garbage.

Normally, I try not to investigate other people’s opinions of me. I don’t often read reviews or evaluations, and I try not to ask a gossipy relative, “But what did they say about me when I left the room?” I’ve been warned by my therapist to remember that people are more excited to leave negative comments than positive ones. So I try to leave it all in those spaces on the internet where people can have candid discussions that I can actively choose not to eavesdrop on.

So I don’t know why I even read this particular bad review. Curiosity? Self-destructive patterns? Lack of anything better to do? Who can say?

After the back and forth with the fairy fantasy writer who took my criticism like a champ, I realized that reviewing other writers was – as my poet friend would say – “not good for my spirit work.” I still offer critiques in workshops, but I no longer wanted to offer reviews and get paid in free books. And maybe that should be how it works – writers should write, reviewers should review, and everyone else can just consume the content. I don’t know. There are lots of critics who choose to become novelists. And if they can separate those two worlds, good for them. It is not something that I can do.

There is an excellent episode of Gilmore Girls where Rory tries out her Dorothy Parker persona on a ballet performance. While her editor and grandparents loved it, she ended up on the receiving end of the ballerina’s wrath. And while the message to Rory was she could be honest without being harsh, Emily, as always, pointed out the value of bad reviews. Funnily enough, the older I get, the more Emily makes sense to me. She pointed out that bad reviews keep people from wasting their time and money. 

Isn’t that why we read reviews? Isn’t that the point? I look over reviews from everything from books to handheld vacuums. I want to know what I am investing my cash into. But I also know that sometimes when I read a bad review, it makes me even more curious to what’s going on. 

My husband hates this, but I love to play a little game called, “How bad is it?” If a movie gets destroyed by the critics, I’ll watch it. Because I want to know, how bad is it?

Sometimes people like bad things. 

• Showgirls

• Vanilla Sky

• The Disaster Artist

• Cheesy romance

• Cringe rap

• and Taco Bell

How bad is it really? Showgirls became a cult classic. Taco Bell definitely kept my belly full when I was a college student and could only afford a few Taco Supremes and extra Fire sauce. The Disaster Artist was a memoir about a horrible self-funded film, that was adapted into an Oscar-nominated movie, and now the original film, The Room, is a cult classic. 

There’s beauty in the bad sometimes. Make bad art and someone will always comment, “If that’s all it takes, I could have made that.” Great! So let’s do it. You make your bad art. And I’ll keep working on my bad art, and it will get better and better and then eventually I’ll have good art. And so will you.

As long as we keep making and ignore the naysayers.

XOXO,

B.

Despite any reviews, I am incredibly proud of what I accomplished with Pretty Girls Get Away With Murder, and if you are curious as to whether it is good, bad, or even meh, grab your copy and be your own judge. Paperback books purchased through the website will be signed and mailed directly to your home.

Pretty Girls Get Away With Murder

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