A return

In the waning months of last year, I vowed to myself that I’d pursue “simple living” in 2020—that I’d slow down and take a more intentional approach to life. 

Then a pandemic happened. 

Suddenly, I was working from home full-time. I was getting more sleep (there’s no need to get up at 5:30 am when your commute is 30 seconds long and the gyms are closed). I was learning more about myself and the people and world around me. And after doing this for half a year, I’ve dived into minimalism and simpler, more intentional living headfirst. With the help of various books, essays, podcasts, and other resources from those who practice a more minimal lifestyle, I’m slowly achieving my goal in ways I never expected.  

And—lo and behold—after years of struggling with lack of motivation and determination, I feel ready to write again.  

A whole five years after my last post on this blog, I’m excited to return. I thought about starting a new one given the large gap in posting history … but what for? I’m trying to break my habit of letting perfection be the enemy of the good, and this blog seems like a great place to start.  

For those of you who still follow me since my days of regular posting: Things will be a bit different this time around, but I hope you’ll decide to stay. Instead of focusing on my journey as a writer—which leaves me feeling guilty and unable to post when I’m “not writing enough” —this blog will focus on a wider variety of personal topics: mostly reading, writing, and minimalism, but maybe other things that I’m passionate about as well. I don’t plan on pigeonholing myself in terms of topics or how often I’ll post. All that will be figured out along the way.  

Should Authors Write Negative Book Reviews?

As anyone who visits this blog or follows me on Goodreads can see, I’ve been pretty invested in book reviewing lately. It’s something I started way back when I blogged for Let The Words Flow and continued through my still-ongoing stint contributing for Paper Droids. I enjoy it, but lately, I’m questioning the practice.

I most recently reviewed Eleanor Herman’s Voice of Gods and Legacy of Kings. I was thorough and honest in my reviews, and even mentioned in my review for LoK that I want to be more straightforward with my reviews and ratings; I used to be the kind who would mostly rate books 4 and 5 stars for pure enjoyment factor and never really look deeper. Now that I’m a more “serious” writer, I want to take a more analytical eye to the works I read.

But while writing these, I felt an old, nagging worry resurface from the days of my very first negative reviews: what if the author reads this? Am I building up poor writer karma for myself? And what if, one day, I meet that author?

Do authors and aspiring authors have any place in book reviewing?

I reached out to Sara Letourneau on this topic since she also writes reviews in addition to her own work, and she had this great insight:

I both agreed and didn’t. I want to play it safe, but I also want to explore different ways of writing and reading. I want to keep my blog active and create a brand. But what kind of brand am I really forming by writing these reviews? It dawned on me that it might not be as positive as I thought–especially now that my Goodreads profile is that of Author instead of Reader.

I wanted to write about this because I was genuinely torn on my answer and writing is the only way I come to conclusions on difficult topics. I read a few articles and forum threads, reached out to Twitter, and eventually came to a conclusion. But before I go into my ultimate decision, I want to discuss the pros and cons I came up with:

The pros – or, why I write book reviews in the first place

  • Writing about what you’ve read helps you form stronger bonds with the material, improving your memory of its characters and plot. My memory often seems unaware that it belongs to someone only in her twenties, and so I enjoy reviewing because I too often forget the details of even some of my favorite books.
  • Knowing you have to write a review makes you read more analytically. At least, that’s the case for me. We all begin our writing careers as readers, and it can be difficult to separate “reading like a reader” from “reading like a writer.” I like to think I fall somewhere in-between—I read both for enjoyment and to improve my writing—but sometimes I could use the extra prod to dig deeper.
  • The book reviewing community is a wonderful place. There are a few rotten eggs including trolls, flamers, and plagiarizers, but it’s also an incredibly fun community filled with brilliant minds who engage with and look out for one another. I love talking about books, and since not a lot of people I know read what I read, this community gives me a place to do that.
  • You get advanced copies of unreleased books! This is the wrong reason to start reviewing in the first place (and it certainly wasn’t mine), but it’s definitely a perk. I’ve always craved the ability to get ARCs and read the latest and greatest before anyone else, so I thought reviewing more regularly would give me the credibility I needed to receive early copies and build rapport on NetGalley.

The cons – or, is it worth the risk?

  • You never know who you’ll meet. Say you write a negative book review—albeit a thoughtful and analytical one*—and a few months later you meet that author at an event. Conferences are a great place to pitch your work, but if that author finds out you’re that reviewer, you may have a hard time making many connections there. This doesn’t even have to be out of any malice on the author’s part, either—people talk, and even though it’s a creative field, publishing is still an industry and all industries have politics. Someone who hears about your negative review may simply decide that you’re not professional enough to work with them.
    *Note: for the sake of this post, I’m talking strictly about constructive reviews; I don’t think aggressive, snarky reviews have any place under an author’s pen.
  • Writing reviews takes time away from your actual writing. I’m going to quote Redditor ThomasEdmund84 on this one: when discussing the cons of book reviewing, he said, “I got addicted to reviewing and oftentimes ended up focused on getting reviews out and getting fake internet points than writing my own stuff.” This is so true. In my case, at least, I already feel pressured to read certain ARCs and new books so I can get a review up ASAP. I’m not sure why—I’m not a book blogger. I used to write recommendations for books I enjoyed because I was bubbling over with excitement for them and had to talk to someone about them, STAT, whether they were new releases or old favorites. So why am I now focusing on reviewing instead of spending that time on my own writing?  Why am I making reading a job, instead of letting it be the relaxing learning experience I’ve always enjoyed?

I’ve come up with twice as many pros as cons, but the cons are probably three times as daunting. The second con is something I’ve felt immediately: earlier this year, I purposely cut back on the amount of unpaid blogging and writing I did on the side to make more room for my creative work, and yet I’m falling into the same traps of spreading my time too thin again. Being a regular book reviewer is a full-time job in and of itself, so not only is it taking whatever little creative writing time I have away from me, it’s also making reading a chore. Not good.

The first con is a much slower, creeping terror, one that causes a great deal of anxiety for me (and has in the past). Example: I used to know a writer who’s now successful. After we lost touch and (s)he got published, I read some of his/her work and wasn’t thrilled. I didn’t understand the hype. But instead of keeping that to myself, I went ahead and gave some low star ratings on Goodreads and a very short, but negative, review. I don’t know if (s)he ever saw my reviews, but I never heard from him/her again—even when I tried reaching out some time after.

This was dumb. This wasn’t just a person I could bump into in the future; it was someone I already knew, albeit not well. But we were never particularly close and hadn’t spoken in some time, so I figured “what’s the harm in being honest?”

Turns out, plenty. I was convinced that I screwed up royally and I still think I did. There’s no way to tell, without being completely tactless, if this author saw what I wrote. Sometime after I started to feel guilty about this, I wrote a post on my old blog both congratulating him/her on the success and apologizing for my review. There’s no way to know if that post was read, either, and I eventually decided to remove it because it felt too desperate and called attention to something I wanted forgotten.

I’ve yet to run into this author, but if I do, I have no doubt that it’ll be tense. Even if he or she never read my words, I know I’d feel incredibly paranoid—and that itself would make the meeting awkward. This is a situation I never want to encounter again. At best, I’m risking complete paranoia over something that may or may not have been read; at worst (and I say this knowing full well that I don’t have many blog readers, but it’s STILL a possibility), I’m insulting a future peer and potentially tarnishing my name with them, their literary agent, their publisher, and all the other people who put work into that book. Why put myself in that position when book blogging isn’t a major part of the career I’m working toward?

Since then, I’ve struggled with this royally. There have been a few works I’ve read by authors in my network that I didn’t enjoy, and since I hate being anything but 100% honest, I struggled when rating them on Goodreads and deciding whether or not to review or even rate them at all. Ultimately, I opted to avoid reviewing the books of anyone I know that I didn’t enjoy, because it just wasn’t worth the risks—not to mention hurting someone’s feelings.

So I think it’s obvious what conclusion I’ve come to. The internet is a public place and what you write can and will be found. Ultimately, I have to agree with author Kristen Lamb who, in her blog Three NEVERS of Social Media for Writers, put it pretty simply: “Our BRAND is AUTHOR, not ‘book reviewer’ Book reviewers have to be forthright to be taken seriously. This means some books will get shredded. This can undermine how our fellow writers feel about working with us as authors.”

Of course, this isn’t definitive and I’m sure some people can find a balance between the two. There are exceptions to this rule—after all, I’ve definitely seen Stephen King really rip apart a few books. But until we reach King Status, it’s probably wise to stick with the old “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything” route. And, of course, this does not apply when you’re personally asked for an honest review or constructive criticism.

So, if you see my more negative reviews come down from Goodreads and my blog, you know why. I just don’t think it’s my place to continue sharing these—after all, as much as I fancy myself an analytical reader, I’ve yet to publish a novel of my own. So who am I to judge?

If you’ve stuck with me this long, I’m really curious to know what you think about this. If you’re an author of any kind—published, self-published, not published at all—how do you handle reviews? Are negative reviews off-limits, no matter how constructive and kind they are? Let me know!


Book Review: Legacy of Kings by Eleanor Herman

23569428Legacy of Kings
Eleanor Herman
2.5/5 Stars

Imagine a time when the gods turn a blind eye to the agony of men, when the last of the hellions roam the plains and evil stirs beyond the edges of the map. A time when cities burn, and in their ashes, empires rise.

Alexander, Macedonia’s sixteen-year-old heir, is on the brink of discovering his fated role in conquering the known world but finds himself drawn to newcomer Katerina, who must navigate the dark secrets of court life while hiding her own mission: kill the Queen. But Kat’s first love, Jacob, will go to unthinkable lengths to win her, even if it means competing for her heart with Hephaestion, a murderer sheltered by the prince. And far across the sea, Zofia, a Persian princess and Alexander’s unmet fiancée, wants to alter her destiny by seeking the famed and deadly Spirit Eaters.

Weaving fantasy with the salacious and fascinating details of real history, New York Times bestselling author Eleanor Herman reimagines the greatest emperor the world has ever known: Alexander the Great, in the first book of the Blood of Gods and Royals series.

I’m not too sure where to begin with my thoughts on Legacy of Kings. If you follow my blog or my reviews, you’ll know that I originally rated its prequel, Voice of Gods, a 4 before dropping it to a 3 just the other day. I made that change because reading LoK reminded me of all the things I took issue with in VoG—only in this one, they were amplified to the Nth degree.

Still, I enjoyed VoG, and I was really amped to read this one when I finished it. But LoK left me disappointed. To avoid getting too lengthy, I’m going to break down my main issues with this novel into a few short(ish) bullet points:

  • Convenience. The characters never truly have to work for anything; just as I mentioned in my review of VoG, there seems to be a deus ex machina for every problem.
  • Too many points of view. Disclaimer: I love GRRM’s writing, which has many more points of view than LoK, but his books are also more than twice as long as Herman’s and have more room for it. Reading this, I felt as if I didn’t spend enough time with the POV characters (of whom there were 7) to care much about them, which resulted in quotes like “her heart leaps to see him the way he used to be when the world was still good” not doing much for me. It’s one of those sentences that’s supposed to convey how much the characters have gone through since the novel’s events kicked off, but it genuinely doesn’t feel like much. Which brings me to…
  • Pacing. It took me about a good 2 weeks to read this book, and it’s really not that long. But I had a hard time getting through it because, quite frankly, my eyes would glaze over here and there. There were pacing issues on a much smaller scale, too, such as the fight scenes. One of the fun parts of this novel is all the action, but much of it is lost in long, rambling, matter-of-fact paragraphs that don’t do much to build up the tension.
  • Telling vs. showing. A lot of LoK is told rather than shown. I can’t tell if this is cause or effect of my lack of interest in the characters, but I couldn’t connect to their emotions at all when the narrator was just handing them to me. I think it’s a little of both.
  • Unoriginality. I realize this is harsh, and I’m a pretty firm believer in true originality being dead, but some characters, relationships, and plot points in this book seemed almost directly lifted out of other popular fantasy works like Hunger Games and Game of Thrones. The similarities in the relationships between Kat/Jacob and Katniss/Gale are frustrating. I’m also pretty sure several Game of Thrones characters have cameos in this novel with little but their names changed.
  • Loose ends and plot holes. I’m tempted to write this off as the book being part of a yet-unfinished series—not all questions are answered just yet—but some of the narratives seem to just drop off rather than coming to a satisfactory cliffhanger or conclusion.

I was tempted to mark this one as DNF and move on, but I enjoyed VoG enough that I wanted to see how it all tied in.  Even now, dissatisfied as I am, I’m curious enough to know what happens to all the characters—and how all those loose ends will be tied up—that I may pick up the sequel when it comes out (though that’s a very strong “may”). That mild curiosity is enough to keep this book a 2.5-star read as opposed to a strict 2 or even 1.

As much as I wanted to put this down because I just don’t have time to read books I don’t fully enjoy, I was eager to have the opportunity to write a full, honest review for a book that didn’t quite work for me (and I really think that’s all it is; I know there are so many other people out there who love it). I used to be one of those people who rated everything 4 or 5 stars, but as I grow as a reader and a writer, I’m trying to take a more critical eye to stories and be a bit more honest in their star ratings. I also don’t think books that would have worked for me just 2 or 3 years ago would stand a chance now, which is something I realized after reading through and agreeing with all the one-star reviews of Fallen (a novel I rated 5 stars in 2012).

(Post-script, because I forgot to include a very big gripe of mine in the first draft of this review) – Herman also kept using odd words that yanked me out of the story to question their usage. I’m pretty sure the ancient Greeks and Macedonians weren’t using “reconnaissance,” a 19th century French word that was used way too many times for any novel, let alone one set in this time period.

Did you read Legacy of Kings? What did you like about it? What didn’t work for you? I’m eager to hear others’ thoughts, because I know this was a highly-anticipated one!