If ever there was an occupation that has you reaching for the stars full of joy and gratitude one minute, plunging into the abyss the next, it’s that of the author. I say this with absolute certainty, having written five books. Two were paid publishing deals (yes my popularity with these sterling publishers baffled me, but nevertheless they were willing to open their cheque books and promote my books). One was pure vanity publishing – you pay through the nose for everything and get dished up mediocrity on stalks, and two were deals of sorts, from small publishing houses with enough faith in me (some may say, madness) to produce my books – at no charge.
Waspish critics and Marlon Brando
As you would expect from a person who has written from the age of 4, and who prefers writing to retail therapy (hubby arches eyebrows and asks me if I would say this under oath), I’ve amassed many fans over many years and indeed a clutch of waspish critics.
It was Marlon Brando who said that if he walked into a room filled with fans, it was the one critic he would remember. Hardly surprising from where I’m standing. Feelings of joy are but fleeting, words of woe weave their way in and won’t budge for ages. They cause us to temporarily abandon sanity in favour of tracking said critic to their home and … I digress.
So, in homage to honesty, and some may say, in the interests of purging my innermost demons, I’m devoting this month’s column to a whistlestop tour of some of my one-star reviews, with a few surprising stories at the end to keep you on board Planet Dee.
Let me say, lest you think I can’t write for toffee, the five-star reviews massively outweigh the one stars. Had the negative trajectory continued unchallenged, my pen would have withered on the vine after book one. There’s something particularly jolting and indeed jarring about that first one-star review for each one of your books. It has you scratching your head, wondering if said reviewer has made a mistake in putting your book in their spotlight of shame. Perhaps they’ve taken a pin on the map named ‘where can I next spread my venom?’ and stuck it anywhere. But yes, it’s your book that is being mercilessly savaged and usually over several paragraphs.
So, are you sitting comfortably?
Book Number 1 – the therapist
All was going swimmingly. My brother had written a rave review for this book, followed by several other family members, whom I was able to bribe with promises I would not make them endure further readings. Then in dropped my very first one-star review. The fact that it was 19 years ago, and I can still remember it, tells you all you need to know about my fragile ego. The reviewer began by describing my book as a tribute to Noddy of Toy Town in its searing simplicity. His wife had bought him the book, and he’d read it with mounting incredulity. He would have given zero stars if he could. He was irked that he could not send it back for a refund. My tips were so simple and so obvious I should find another occupation. He poured scorn and spectacularly so. As we authors are prone to do, I looked at some of his other reviews and discovered I was not the only author to be so mercilessly destroyed by him. His occupation? A therapist specialising in happiness and positive living. I kid you not. I did not book a session with him.
Book Number 2 – the colleague
This book hit the bestsellers with a bang, which was wonderful for my ego until I received a one-star review so vitriolic that I even lodged a complaint with Amazon. The reviewer described me as, clears throat, ‘a con, a liar and a plagiarist’ followed by several paragraphs, each one mounting in their character assassination. It was so awful that it led to more sales. Readers poured in to support me, saving me from a long drive to Beachy Head. I subsequently discovered he was a member of my professional body. Thankfully, he crept away but not without a fight and not one I was willing to join.
Book Number 3 – the non-believer
Another bestseller, I was celebrating 99 consecutive five star reviews and then in popped the first one star. This time I was criticised for the 99 great reviews. They were clearly false, the reviewer asserted and although he had not read my book, he just knew there was ‘something fishy’ about these reviews. Ironically, I had now moved on from asking my family to post reviews and was standing on my own two, trembling legs. Had this person posted the same review for book number one I would have come clean with a ‘guilty as charged, guv’ board, wandering the streets begging for forgiveness. But on this occasion he was bang out of order. Nothing fishy to be had.
Book Number 4 – the friend!
To date I have not had a one star review, but I did have an overly critical three star review that should have landed in one star category and it was from a person I knew. Suffice to say the relationship cooled and is still in the freezer.
Books 5 and 6 – the wait
I realise I’m tempting fate here but so far so good. Five stars all the way…
The truly jaw dropping author moments
Let me bring this dizzying journey to an end by sharing two experiences that to this day, still fascinate folk and I don’t have to embellish them. The first involved an author who visited me at a Waterstones book signing event in a northern town. Everything went swimmingly. Books signed, number one at Waterstones and this charming person (who stayed for several hours and bought a copy of my book) asking if I would include him as a guest writer in my next book. Not one to offend I offered a non-committal response only to discover a week later he had indeed reviewed my book as promised and had proceeded to tear apart the fact that it included two chapters with guest contributors. He poured scorn on this. Words really did fail me except when it came to my firm response when he followed up.
However, the experience that still holds an audience spellbound to this day, was that of the British soldier who messaged me from his base overseas. He had taken my book and was enjoying reading it in readiness for the new business he was starting when his army career ended. We arranged to speak only for the line to cut out after a most enjoyable and from my perspective, fascinating twenty minute conversation. His girlfriend, a soldier based in Germany rang to explain he had managed to access a phone and wanted her to convey his apologies for cutting short our conversation. His base had come under enemy fire for several minutes. Thankfully, no casualties. I forgave him and we continued our conversation when he was back on British soil!
Who says the life of an author is dull? Not author, Dee.
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