I’ve Heard Such Mixed Things
By Julia Whelan | September 29, 2022 |
It is a truth universally acknowledged, a reader in possession of a platform must be in want of an opinion.
As news desks covering books have disappeared, book bloggers and bookstagrammers and booktokers have proliferated. As such, I hate to break it to you, but you’re going to see some really mean comments about your book.
But chin up, because the reality is? There have always been people who hated your book. In a different generation, they just wouldn’t have had an easy way to let you know they hated it. And while that might not seem like much of a silver lining, then let this be: there are also people who love it and will talk about it so much you’ll wonder who, exactly, is paying them.
So, this is the way of things now, for better or worse. But whether the social media reviews are good or bad, it’s the volume of them that can feel particularly relentless. Your publisher wants them to be relentless. Relentless is a good thing in this ecosystem of content attention. Yet for all the good it may ultimately do, we should at least acknowledge that it’s different. That authors today are dealing with something authors yesterday did not: the presumption of access. And its corollary: the feeling that your reader is now looking over your shoulder.
So here are some things that help me navigate all that (when I remember to take my own advice):
No book is universally beloved so stop trying to write one that is. Because of my day job, I get tagged in reviews of other writer’s audiobooks. Sometimes I’m tagged even when the author isn’t, because while the reviewer liked my performance, it’s a bad review of the book (and the good reviewers have learned not to tag the author in negative reviews – seriously, what HEROES). So let me tell you: books you may think are universally beloved? Aren’t. There is some corner of social media that hates them. One of my favorite moments in one of my favorite movies, The Big Sick, has Ray Romano’s character utterly baffled by internet opinions: “This is why I don’t want to go online, ‘cause it’s never good. You go online, they hated Forrest Gump. Frickin best movie ever.” Even if you, in your social media bubble, have seen only positive posts about these books, trust me, if you scroll through the comments, you will inevitably see that someone has written: “oh, I’m so glad you liked it! I’ve heard such mixed things.” Whaaaat? you will think. Where? The internet. That’s where. Universally beloved books don’t exist. No one has ever written one. You will never write one. So you don’t have to try to!
Your opinion is just as valid as theirs. Roland Barthes argued that once a text is out in the world, the author, for all intents and purposes, is dead. That their opinion of the work they’ve created is no longer more valid than that of any reader. That’s a tough pill to swallow. After all, we are the final arbiters of right or wrong interpretations of our work. If a reader fundamentally misunderstands something about, say, our plot, then they are, objectively, wrong. But that doesn’t mean their opinion of the work is wrong. And in turn, that certainly doesn’t mean that our opinion of our work is wrong. In fact, I would argue – and I did – it’s the only thing that matters (see my previous post about only competing with yourself).
Some people are just miserable. In my experience, most reviewers understand how to say something that reflects their personal, subjective experience. “This book wasn’t the right fit for me.” “I just didn’t connect with it”. The ones who are vitriolic and have zero self-awareness (“this book is trash!!” “worst book ever written!!!”) are not to be taken seriously, the same way we don’t take seriously those same people in the real world. They are misanthropic and tedious on Instagram, just as they are in life. Would you let this kind of person offer their unsolicited opinion about your wife, your kid, your job? Realize this is a them problem, not a you problem. Have boundaries around whose words you take to heart.
If you can’t stick to your boundaries, then control your interaction. Goodreads is for readers, not authors. We all know that, right? So what are you doing on there? Can’t keep up with Facebook comments? You don’t actually have to. Overwhelmed by Instagram? Don’t let people tag you. Seriously. I know authors who have changed their settings to prevent people from tagging them. When they’re ready – if they ever are – to see what’s being said about their book, they will search for the hashtag. Or, a heretical proposal: you could delegate a friend to send you only the good posts. Now, some people will argue, well, if you’re going to read the good reviews you should also read the bad. Why? Please, explain that to me. The time for notes and critiques has passed. The book is done. Anything you may learn from bad reviews can only be applied to the next book and that’s like trying to divine from tea leaves what the weather will be tomorrow. Besides, if you’re anything like me, no one’s going to think there’s more wrong with your book than you already do. In my opinion, we all have to believe we’re writing for a reason. That all this work is worth it. So if you only want to read reviews that make you feel like it actually is worth it, then do that. Fill your boot, man. Whatever gets you back at the desk. For that reason, I love this post by Therese Walsh and I think about the phrase “protect the flame” at least once a week.
You didn’t write the book for the people who don’t like it. Intellectually, we know this. But when we’re slogging our way through a draft, spending years on this thing, it’s not, uhhhh, fun when people don’t like it. Oh, it isn’t personal? Of course it’s personal! It’s my heart and my brain and my guts and my time on this earth poured onto those pages about which your review just said, “I mean… meh?” As a writer, actor, and artist in general, I long ago learned you can’t please everyone. How could you? No one book (or performance or song or painting) can be for everyone. When you aim for that, you get books that don’t take risks, that don’t say anything new, don’t challenge. And guess what happens then? There will still be people who don’t like it. Why? Because it’s derivative. They’ve seen it a million times before. The goal is not, nor should it be, to “write for everyone.” It should be, I think, to write for someone. And on that note…
The final thing I’ll leave you with is that something social media does not celebrate is the magic of dumb-luck timing. So much energy goes into ARC reviews, then launch week, then the first month on-sale. But books continue to live and some of my favorite posts are the ones that happen 8 months, 14 months, 2 years after pub. When someone picked it up at a Little Free Library in a vacation town, or their cousin’s coworker’s sister gave it to them at a bachelorette weekend, or they saw another post where someone said, “I’ve heard such mixed things” and they thought, well, I’ll be the judge of that. I’m truly mystified by how books find readers at the right time.
Your book can be just what someone needed. And the same person, had they read it last year, or right after they broke up with their boyfriend or, hell, right after they fell in love with their new boyfriend, wouldn’t have liked it. They weren’t ready for it then. What we like isn’t static. When we were kids, we didn’t like brussels sprouts. Now, we may crave them. Crisped up, with a little balsamic glaze and bacon? Freakin best vegetable ever.
That’s who you’re writing for. Some future version of someone. You’re writing for an audience you can’t know, at a time you can’t predict. It’s some real message-in-a-bottle stuff. That’s what social media is like to me: making a wish, taking aim, and watching whose shore your book washes up on.
Question: Have you had the experience of reading a book and not liking it, then picking it up again at a different time and it’s like a new book?
Julia Whelan is a screenwriter, lifelong actor, and award-winning audiobook narrator of over 500 titles. Her performance of her own debut novel, the internationally best-selling My Oxford Year, garnered a Society of Voice Arts award. She is also a Grammy-nominated audiobook director, a former writing tutor, a half-decent amateur baker, and a certified tea sommelier.
Her forthcoming book, Thank You for Listening–about a former actress turned successful audiobook narrator who has lost sight of her dreams and her journey of self-discovery, love, and acceptance when she agrees to narrate one last romance novel–releases in August, 2022.
[coffee]
Great post. Thanks for the matter-of-fact reminder: Not everyone will love my book. But I hope someone will.
Best encouraging post I’ve read in a long time. Thank you for this.
I needed this post today! Thank you for the reminder to write for ourselves and protect the flame!
Wonderful post, Julia! Thanks.
A wonderfully thoughtful piece. Thanks, Julia. But the naysayers are sometimes (often) just plain wrong. Your first book was wonderful. I don’t remember it enough to qualitatively compare it to your second, but I ADORED Thank You for Listening, so I’m willing to accept your assessment. And now, thanks to today’s article, I’ve also found Therese Walsh. So thank you again. And as you implied above, if someone somewhere, sometime, finds one of books unexpectedly, and receives joy, or comfort, or wonder, then we’ve left the world a better place, regardless of our publishing statistics.
Thanks, Julia. Your post spoke to me. I write using my ideas; I get excited when a sentence is even more than I had planned. It’s been a long journey, but the novel I am completing is all I have wanted it to be. Will it get published? Will it get read? Writing is always about the words on the page, free expression and hope.
Your post oozes with voice, Julia. Love it!
Your question is timely! I just started a book and wasn’t connecting with the voice. I put it aside and decided a few days later to try again. I’m glad I did because about twenty pages in, I was engaged. It seems now in our insta-flash culture like an old fashioned notion to give something a little time. I certainly have put books down halfway through, or even close to the end. Sometimes you don’t connect. But there’s a hurry/anxiety thing out there in the world that seems to b encourage a thoughtless MO. It takes passion and effort and discipline to complete a novel. As a writer, I hope I can honor that by giving another person’s efforts my best effort at connecting. But like the old chief said to Little Big Man, sometimes the magic works and sometimes it doesn’t. Thank you for a wonderful post!
Less than three weeks to launch day. Thanks for the reminders.
Thanks for writing this. It really spoke to me (as an indie writer who probably takes the bad reviews too personally).
A keeper. You said everything we authors need to hear (and hear again), clearly and sensibly, Thank you so much! I’m now going to share the post on—yup, social media! xoxo
What a fantastic post and message, Julia. I think it’s safe to say you’re protecting that flame brilliantly. Write on!
Superbly said.
Good gosh, what an amazing post. I’m serious when I say, this should be required reading for every author at every stage in their writing life. Wow. Thank you.
What a wonderful post. Yes, I’ve had the experience of reading the same book twice, not liking it the first time and loving it the second time. I wish I could do that with all the books I didn’t like.
I knew when I wrote it that not everyone would love what I’ve written, but I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t, and it’s sooo easy to forget when faced with a negative response. Thank you for this reminder.
I am a lifetime Gail Godwin fan, but I hated the ending of “Father Melancholy’s Daughter.” I hoped for an entirely different outcome for Margaret, the main character — that she would lose the older, creepy (to me, anyway) clergyman love interest, who seemed to be a dull, humorless copy of her beloved father (who at least had a sense of humor), and break out into a new life. But the second time I read the book, I realized the ending was actually brilliant. It was true to the character; it reflected what Margaret wanted from life, not what I wanted her to want because if it was my life that’s what I would want. This is a story about Margaret, not me. I admire a writer who can write her character’s truth, not wish fulfillment. Satisfying in a different, more honest way.
Julia, your post was brandy-by-the-fire-wearing comfy slippers—heartening, but heady too. Many truths here, about the world having many bare, ungenerous corners, but ones with warm light too. Seek the light. You remind me that I should read Louise Erdrich’s The Sentence again, because I couldn’t connect, despite loving Beet Queen and the magnificent Round House.
As for brussels sprouts, I have ever (and continue to) likened them to Satan’s testicles, but that’s just me. Thank you for the lovely thoughts.
Julia, great words to remember. Thank you! I self-published a debut historical fiction book in May 2022. Surprised by readers still finding it. Reviews great and wanting more. Writing a sequel now. It’s a small audience, but that’s all I expected as a new author. Best to keep expectations real. 📚🎶 Christine
This was wonderful, Julia. Thank you for sharing your wise observations delivered with humor and with a wonderful and encouraging sense of perspective. I especially enjoyed this: “You didn’t write the book for the people who don’t like it.” I am passing it on to other writer buddies.
Just adding to the chorus of cheers for this brilliant and smile-inducing post. <3
I’ve always wondered why someone who didn’t like a book 1) finished reading it and 2) wanted to tell anyone about it. Talk to people about the books you loved and why.
I honestly don’t care what strangers think of my work, but I was surprised recently when an old friend had a strong reaction to what she considered unnecessary sexual aspects of my second book. I obsessed. I re-examined my choices. If only I had just read this, which I think is the nut of Julia’s post:
“The time for notes and critiques has passed. The book is done. Anything you may learn from bad reviews can only be applied to the next book and that’s like trying to divine from tea leaves what the weather will be tomorrow.”
Julia, thank you for a wise perspective on the attention we give to opinions. I’ve always felt that once a book is out in the world, it belongs to the reader and each reader brings their own sensibilities to it. I always hope to make a connection but you’re so right to remind us that we didn’t write the book for people who don’t like it. And it’s so true that our own opinions can change as well. This happened with Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables–I picked it up thrice to read but put it aside after 50 pages or so…until the third time when I was recovering from hand surgery in Belgium. The difference was that I’d visited the places in Paris Hugo writes about and somehow it made all the difference in the world. But my childhood favorites remain so even now. I’m looking forward to reading your books–on hold at the library!
I know I read books as a teen I disliked and later re-visited them, but damned if I can remember which ones. That, I think, is a matter of maturity. I’ve not done it as an adult. You’ve presented some thoughtful points here about not paying attention to the naysayers, who will ALWAYS be in existence. It’s possible I AM one, LOL, as I’ve found that being a writer has profoundly changed my ability to enjoy a book without criticizing/analyzing/comparing it to mine. (look at all these filler words! Too repetitive! Where’s the conflict/tension? Etc, etc.). I belong to a fans of fiction book rec site, and half of the books they rave about I can’t stand. I joined mainly to keep up with the pulse of readers, and frankly it depresses me. My target audience for my next book seem to crave light, fluffy, escapist, Harlequin-like beach reads. Which my story is not. Consequently, yesterday I was feeling like the thing is going to go straight into toilet-like oblivion when it’s released. Thanks for the lift and words of encouragement. Those of us in the trenches can’t get enough!
Perfect. Excellent reminders.
And I actually do designate a “bad review” screener, because ain’t nobody needs that nonsense.
This post is brilliant.
I don’t read reviews, ever. After my first book years ago my editor at my publishers told me not to read them and I took her advice and never looked back and I’ve been the better off for it.
Good advice! I learned early on in this business not to let the bad comments get you down or keep you from doing what you love and it came from a family member. Thanks for the post.
Yeah, I give books multiple chances. Every book gets at least the first 25% before I set it down because that’s about how long it takes for the inciting incident to rear its head. I WANT to get that far — for epic fantasy, that of course means 80,000 words deep.
However, I will say that readers who hate a book tend to show me all sorts of things:
1 star reviews — they didn’t want this kind of book, categorically. This book wasn’t meant for them.
2 star reviews — they thought this was a different sort of book, were poorly connected through the book, therefore this book was also not for them.
3 star reviews — near miss, often the most I learn about hide in these reviews
4 star reviews — also a near miss, I could have tweaked something to give this a 5
5 star reviews — someone is delusional, I’m not that good
So, generally, i learn something from every one and tend to read them all, against advice. Even 1 and 2 star reviews tend to show me something about myself and toughen me up for the next round.
I’d like to second the last comment, as you can learn a lot from negative reviews. Even books by very experienced authors, let alone first-time ones, aren’t perfect. If your books are regularly scoring well above 4 stars at Amazon after getting lots of reviews, then, well yes, when you get a bad review it likely is because it was “not right” for that reader. But if your books are scoring lower, then you probably need to improve as a writer, and bad reviews that are conscientiously written are a good way to figure out where you can do better. Why would you ignore them?
If you really do write well but are still scoring low, particularly in a genre, then you may learn that your book isn’t hitting the genre target right. You may decide from this that you don’t care (it’s your book, after all), or, if you’re economically motivated, you might learn from your reviews how to hit the target dead center. Or perhaps you might decide that this genre isn’t for you after all. Isn’t that better than continuing to write the same type of book with less success than you could have had if you knew where the issues lay?
At a more elementary level, if a lot of reviewers say, “this book got off to a very slow start,” well, it probably does, and if you’re self published it’s very easy to fix, time aside. Reviewers can also let you know you should have hired a proofreader, that you got a key fact wrong, and so on. Some reviewers might share this rudely, but doesn’t mean the information isn’t still valuable.
So of course, you need to have a thick skin and learn to ignore the crass and the unkind. But I would never ignore reviews by readers who cared enough to take the time to share their thoughts. Isn’t that the kind of reader you’d like to please?
This is absolutely fabulous advice. I’m going to share it on social and make a note to read it myself once a week!