Watch What You Say. I'm Reading.

Jeff Cohen

I believe every review ever written about my work. Each and every one. No exceptions.

Wait! I hear you scream. Some of those are raves that absolutely adored your story and others are one-star masterpieces that took you down in a flying tackle, kicked you in the head a couple of times, spat on you and left you for dead. How can you possibly agree with both of those?

It's easy. I'm a writer.

In each of us, I believe, there exists both a raging, surging, voracious ego and a slinking, whimpering, cowering introvert who lives in dread of being discovered a complete hack whose lack of talent is matched only by his audacity in trying to get people to spend money on his worthless words. I think my books are funny, engaging and entertaining. I also believe they are obvious, clumsy and poorly considered.

I'm right, of course, assuming that the truth lies somewhere in the middle. My own attitude will vary based on what day it is and which review I read last. If it's someone who seems to have actually had a thought before expressing it (something other than, "It arrived on time and undamaged") I respect the reviewer's opinion and assume s/he is correct. That cuts both ways. A positive review feeds the ego and a negative one provides nourishment to my inner Renfield.

This doesn't have a huge effect on my actual writing, as I am never foolish enough to read reviews right around the time I'm going to start on the day's 1,000 words. A pan at that moment would probably paralyze me for an hour at least or make the work that day unreadable on the next.

Many authors (and actors, artists, directors, etc.) claim they don't read reviews of their work. I tend to disbelieve them, but I definitely admire the sentiment. I wish I didn't read them, but believe they are in fact necessary to the process.

Writing is a form of communication. It exists to take the thoughts in one's head and make them available to others. If you don't want anyone to hear your thoughts, it's probably best not to write them down, say them aloud, record them, film them or post them on Twitter at three in the morning. Just ask a few presidential candidates how that's going.

So given that idea, the intent is to essentially ask people to read one's work. We write to express ourselves, but that doesn't really happen much unless someone is paying attention. You can express yourself all you want in a room alone, and if that makes you feel better, do it. But for those of us who desire an audience of some kind, the idea is to attract readers.

Reviewers are readers with a platform and an opinion about the work. How can you not read those? And if you really don't--which I still believe is a lie in most cases--how do you know what people think about what you've written?

Sure, you can make the argument that an artist should not tailor the work to an audience. Giving the people want that want, especially when they have the capacity to actually ask for it, is not a really healthy way to flourish as a storyteller. It's better to have the Steve Jobs philosophy and give the people what they want before they know they want it.

But if you finish the work, send it out shuddering and hopeful to its readers, and then don't check in to see what they thought of it, are you really doing yourself and your writing a service? I read the reviews. I'm not sorry to say that. I read each and every one and actually seek them out in order to do so every now and again.

I'm lucky in that the majority of the reviews that I've read have been kind to the work. But there have been some head-kickers and I've read those too, deciding if (after an obligatory time to cool down and reflect) I believe the reviewer might have a point and if so, whether I should take note of that for future writings.

One reviewer (and I forget which one) noted that in one of the Double Feature books I had "used up his allotment of commas by Chapter 3" and when I looked back I saw that was true. Which is why I cut out two unnecessary commas from the sentence you just read.

Others simply have issues with things I either see as virtues or as necessary, and after the reflective moment I ignore those. I do want to please readers but as Abraham Lincoln (or Billy Wilder) once paraphrased, you can't please all of the people all of the time. Hell, you can't even please all the people on the same Tuesday.

Yes. I read reviews and I take them to heart when I think it's appropriate. The raves I tend to think are from people who set the bar low. The pans I think actually hit the nail on the head and I go and hide for a while before deciding what to use and what to throw away. Then it's back at the 1,000 words again.

So if you're considering reviewing The Question of the Unfamiliar Husband or any other of my books, please feel free to say exactly what you think. But know that I'll be reading and so might my mother, so watch your language. For my mother.

Otherwise, have at me. You can't say anything I haven't already thought.

6 Comments

You know I love your writing, Jeff. EJ. Whatever name you're going under at the moment. I haven't read any of the Aspberger's books yet but I want to.

Posted by: Toni Lotempio | October 26, 2015 at 04:50 PM