I had an email recently from someone who’d read my blog. If all the ‘fucking’ words were removed it would be very short message. The reason for the complaint? My inability to spell.
‘It’s fucking “color” not fucking “colour,” and much more of the same. Oh dear. I realise (that’s fucking ‘realize,’ asshole) we poor ignorant Brits spell the odd word differently and I make due allowances for the poverty of expression amongst many people who rush to judgement, but imagine going to the trouble to berate a simple blog author in this way without even considering he may be British. There are enough clues in the text, I would have thought. Perhaps there’s another Liverpool in Arkansas.
At what point does criticism morph into abuse? I’ve sold over 100,000 books and expected the occasional bad review. It’s no use saying ‘oh, I never read the reviews’ either as otherwise I’d miss out on the glowing praise that occasionally flutters my way. I could pretend to treat the two imposters with equal disdain, but that’s not part of human nature.
One of my reviewers took the trouble to write a review – one star awarded presumably because the option of no star was not available – and derided the content of my novel despite admitting he’d not actually read it. I find that astonishing. Okay, I’m not as vulnerable as some. I can take any amount of abuse – I’ve had plenty, much of it justified, not always related to something I had written – but there are many people out there who devote years of their life to writing books only to suffer the gratuitous outpourings of people who don’t have a fraction of their ability denouncing their efforts in insulting terms. John Dryden summed up critics very well in this wonderful quote –
‘Those who write ill, and they who ne’er durst write,
Turn critics out of mere revenge and spite’.
I occasionally write a review of a book I’ve read and enjoyed. I want the author to know the pleasure I’ve received from reading their work. Conversely, when I read a book I didn’t enjoy, I say to myself, ‘not for me, this one,’ and move on. I don’t denounce its faults, as they appeared to me, on a public site for the whole world to read. Enjoyment of a book is subjective. ‘We like different stuff,’ my four-year-old niece told me once when I confessed I wasn’t over-keen on watching her favourite DVD for the tenth time in succession. Out of the mouths of babes, eh? We do, indeed, like ‘different stuff’.
Criticism can be hurtful, particularly if it’s unfair or unjustified. I’m not talking about me; I’m big enough and ugly enough to take a few slings and arrows in my stride, but others aren’t so fortunate. Writing a book is hard. People who’ve never accomplished it should think twice before berating those who’ve done what they were incapable of.
Rosanna Arquette – yeah, I know, I’m going way off beam with my examples here – said this about criticism:
‘Criticism really used to hurt me. Most of these critics are usually frustrated artists, and they criticise other people’s art because they can’t do it themselves. It’s a really disgusting job. They must feel horrible inside.’
I’m including that quote because a dear friend has received a withering assessment of her work from a person claiming to have read her book. I’ve read the book and read the comments in question. They don’t match up. Not remotely appropriate.
As I do with comments on my own books I checked the number of previous comments made by the reviewer. As I’d suspected, this had been their only review. I told my friend that when I received an adverse comment from anyone who’d never made a comment on any other book, I ignored their words, no matter how harsh, as they were almost certainly intended to be malicious and were not a true reflection of readers’ views.
Of course, the words hurt. Sales of the book may well be affected too, but if it satisfies the desire of whoever made the comments to vent their spite in public, so what? Hmm! Jealousy, envy, call it what you will, is the reason behind so many adverse comments. I don’t ignore them; I post my harshest reviews on Facebook, add them to my book description, give them a true airing. Allow the rest of the world to see what tossers these people are.
Sadly, my friend doesn’t share my relaxed attitude to criticism. She’s hurt and upset. As with Trip Advisor and sites of that ilk that have mushroomed in recent years, the trend is to be overtly critical, to look for faults and disregard virtues. If you publish a book it’s there to be shot down in flames. If you’ve suffered, don’t fret too much. The reviewer may not have ‘got’ your book, but ‘we like different stuff,’ remember? They may not even have read it. A final word from Sydney Smith, a renowned literary critic:
‘I never read a book before reviewing it. It prejudices me so.’
Gulliver Smith 