Bad Reviews: An Undiscovered Tool for Writers
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Part 1 of 3: The Story You Tell Yourself
There are a hundred reasons to stop writing or marketing your book. Most of those reasons come down to mindset, a negative story you tell yourself about your work, your worth as a writer, or what the world is going to say about your book.
Let’s call those negative stories your one-star reviews. Today I’m going to share a method for converting the one-star reviews of your imagination into a valuable tool for dramatically and sometimes comically changing the negative stories you’ve been telling yourself about your work. It’s been working for me, my colleagues, and some of my clients, and it might work for you.
THE USEFUL NEGATIVITY OF BAD REVIEWS
There’s a good argument to be made against reading your actual reviews once a book is out: they’re painful, and we writers are famously capable of ignoring a dozen five-star reviews and dwelling on the one hater. We know we’re never going to withdraw the book, fix it for that one unhappy reader, and reissue it. So why bother?
But have you ever checked one-star reviews of books you’re considering reading? Even as you wince for the poor author, have you ever had the worst reviews convince you to buy? For instance, has one angry reader of a nonfiction title accused the author of a particular bias, confirming that the book is exactly what you’re looking for? Has one displeased reader complained that a love story is shockingly racy, when racy is just what you’ve been craving?
This is useful negativity. Today we’re going to learn how to use it for ourselves. I’ll start with two examples, one from nonfiction and one from fiction, then provide some exercises for you to try.
RACHELLE’S STORY: NONFICTION
Rachelle Ramirez, the Pages & Platforms expert in narrative nonfiction and memoir, has been working on a nonfiction book for the ADHD writer. She submitted some sample chapters to our SHEG (Super Hardcore Editing Group) because she was having trouble getting the book off the ground.
What the rest of us noticed most was a big variation in voice and style. In one paragraph, the prose was technical and academic, reflecting Rachelle’s advanced degree in psychology; in the next, it was personal and funny. It was hard to follow because it was speaking first to one kind of reader, then to a very different kind, back and forth.
When we asked Rachelle about it, she expressed uncertainty about who she was trying to reach. Was it an academic reader? Every ADHD writer? All writers? She said she was using the more technical language to establish her credibility and then moving to the more colloquial, friendly language to engage the intended reader. She was having a hard time choosing one voice or the other, and the overall effect said clearly that she hadn’t settled on her specific “ideal reader.”
“What’s the worst thing you can imagine someone saying about your book?” I asked her. “Imagine that it’s already published and you’re getting reader reviews. What do the one-star reviews say?”
With permission to cut loose, she came up with a bunch of over-the-top terrible imaginary reviews, and each revealed a fundamental mindset problem. Let’s have a look:
DOUBTS ABOUT CREDENTIALS, CREDIBILITY, “THE RIGHT TO WRITE” THIS BOOK:
What made the writer think she was qualified to write this book?!
I couldn’t trust the author because she didn’t cite all the sources for her assumptions. Does she think we should just believe what SHE says based on her experience working with writers like us?
FEAR OF BACKLASH AGAINST A PROGRESSIVE, FEMINIST PERSPECTIVE:
Another arrogant woman without a real book of her own, assuming she can help the disadvantaged. Boohoo. We have publishing standards for gatekeeping that shit.
A man should’ve least co-authored this book. Too much feminist thinking. Hello? The literary canon is filled with books by men for a reason.
WORRIES ABOUT LOSING SOME READERS BY ADDRESSING A SPECIFIC READER:
I didn’t want to read a lot of personal experiences about the writer and her editing clients. I wanted to speed through the facts and resources.
NEGATIVE BELIEFS ENGENDERED BY A REAL-LIFE BAD WRITING/PUBLISHING EXPERIENCE:
The publisher that canceled Ramirez’s first couple of books had the right idea.
As you can probably detect, Rachelle’s worries center on her own legitimacy as both a feminist and a writer of nonfiction. Possibly the people in her head leaving these imaginary bad reviews are echoes of actual criticism she received in the past about her opinions, her education, and even her right to exist in this world...not to mention her writing.
Whatever the case—and we’re not here to psychoanalyze anybody—the point is that none of those “people,” real or imagined, is in her intended audience. They’re specifically not the ideal reader for her book.
Recognizing this has freed her to explore her own authority, using her own, authentic voice. When she looked at those imagined one-star reviews, she realized that the book they’re criticizing is exactly the book she wants to write, maybe even in defiance of those very critics.
What’s more, exaggeration and humor have effectively silenced the clamor of critical internal voices, and cleared the decks for her to realize who her ideal reader is.
As it turns out, the ideal reader for Rachelle’s book in progress is embodied in a real person, someone Rachelle has met only a couple of times, but whose whole personality and way of life seemed to resonate with her, especially around the subject of being a writer with ADHD. Now in her writing sessions, when she has questions about what information to provide and how to say it, she imagines asking that ideal reader—that real, actual person—what they really need.
The next chapters she submitted to our SHEG were accessible and informative, smart and relatable, humorous and personal. Now that she has silenced those inner critics, she knows exactly how to write what she wants to write.
MY STORY: FICTION
My current novel-in-progress began life more than two years ago as an experiment set up by my then-mentor in writing and editing. He wanted to test his story-structuring theory by taking my proven ability to write a whole novel, suppressing much of my creative process, and corralling my talents with a strict set of rules.
It sounds dire, but it was my big chance to get in front of his large podcast audience, drum up interest in my existing novel, and possibly get a publishing contract out of it.
So of course I said yes.
My job was to analyze the beat structure of a famous story (Annie Proulx’s Brokeback Mountain) and then replicate those beats in a story set in the same historical world as my own first novel, Restraint, Regency England. This was supposed to happen over a series of public podcast episodes in front of the mentor’s large audience.
What I didn’t understand was that my job was also to accept the mentor’s (frankly flawed and outdated) interpretation of the master story and write something with the same meaning...his meaning, not mine.
I couldn’t do it. I really wanted that magical publishing contract, but visions of the attacks that would come from the queer community—my own community—made it impossible for me to write the experimental novella. The fatal flaw in this experiment was the requirement to kill one of the lovers so that the remaining lover could experience some kind of transformation that seemed valuable to my mentor, but which wasn’t valuable to me, or to people like me.
The imaginary one-star reviews that created all this havoc in my mind were loud and clear.
FEAR OF ALIENATING MY TRUE AUDIENCE
Another stupid “bury your gays” story. I can’t believe the author killed off one of the lovers in a hate crime. Sorry, not sorry to spoil this disappointing book, because we were done with that story decades ago!
I heard that this story is based on Brokeback Mountain, and Annie Proulx herself has said she wished she’d never written that. Why would anyone revisit it in the 2020s?
I was completely stopped by the prospect of that “bury your gays” criticism because it would be perfectly valid. As a matter of principle, I couldn’t write the book I’d been assigned to write. I quit the project without producing more than a few disjointed scenes.
But I’d grown attached to my characters, and a lot of the story was already taking shape, so I carried on trying to write a story I wanted to write. I kept my characters alive. I worked out a happy ending for them. I decided to make all the central characters one sort of queer or another, and show them living well in that historical period. I read piles of books and journal articles supporting the claim that yes, LGBTQIA people “back then” could and did lead happy lives.
That was when the other one-star reviews started taking shape in my mind.
DOUBTS ABOUT MY QUALIFICATIONS TO WRITE FOR THIS AUDIENCE
I think the main character is supposed to be asexual? I don’t know why the author never says so. Feels like queerbaiting to me. She’s out of touch.
FEAR OF BEING JUDGED BY “MAINSTREAM” READERS
How many more letters do we need to add to LGBT? Pretty soon it will be the whole alphabet! Will the political correctness never end? I’d have enjoyed a story about lower-class people in the Regency, but not all this queer stuff.
CONCERNS ABOUT NOT FITTING INTO A MARKETING CATEGORY
I love gay Regencies, and this author’s previous book was like a REAL Regency romance, with gay characters, which is why I bought this one, but this one is all about dirty, unattractive lower-class people that are hard to daydream about. I feel cheated.
Like Rachelle, I had some doubts about my right to write this story, my credentials, my own authority. We both had fears about expressing a supposedly “political” stance (hers feminist, mine queer) that might rub some people the wrong way.
Unlike Rachelle, as you can see, I also had a particular fear of alienating potential readers by not exactly fitting my story to an expected marketing category.
My turning point came in the form of a text from a young friend of mine who has an MFA in creative writing and is an absolutely beautiful writer, working on a queer themed novel herself. She’d run across an old interview of mine for a podcast on asexuality. “OMG are you ace too?” she said. (Ace is short for asexual.)
We exchanged some texts on this shared identity, and all at once I could see my ideal reader in this friend: an avid young queer literary writer who loves a good love story. This realization freed me and I began turning out scene after scene.
Right up to the point of writing this article, I’ve been slowly snipping away all the sticky filaments connecting the novel I want to write with the story someone else—someone completely outside my audience—originally wanted me to write. Now when I’m stuck, I consider what my unique ideal reader would most appreciate, and forge ahead.
In the process, I’ve rediscovered my initial enthusiasm for this queer working-class historical love story, and I’ve finally got a zero draft.
TRY IT FOR YOURSELF
I hope this simple process will intercept your hundred reasons to stop writing or marketing your book. Use your imaginary one-star reviews to identify the negative stories you’ve been telling yourself, and see if it doesn’t change your mindset as much as it has changed ours.
EXERCISES
EXERCISE 1:
Write three or four one-star (or thoughtful-but-scary two- or three-star) reviews of the work in progress that you’re stuck on, or the finished book that you’re afraid to market.
Go right over the top! Use whatever nagging, annoying, mean, or passive-aggressive language comes to mind. Aim for the ridiculous. These are for your eyes only, so let your deepest fears and doubts speak in the voice of Anonymous Internet Rando.
Take a break, then come back to your bad reviews and see if you want to add any.
Now try to find the underlying fear or doubt each negative review is expressing. You may have more than one review under a single heading, or each review may represent a different fear or doubt. Sort them in any way that makes sense for you.
Finally, identify the person or type of person you imagine writing each negative review and ask yourself whether you really want to write for that person.
EXERCISE 2:
For each of your one-star reviews, write the opposite five-star review from the person or type of person your book is really for.
EXAMPLES:
One star review: This book should have been at least co-authored by a man. Too much feminist thinking. Hello? The literary canon is filled with books by men for a reason.
Five star review: Finally! A book about ADHD issues that understands that it’s not just a boys’ problem. As a grown woman writer with ADHD, I felt so seen and understood by this useful, entertaining book!
One star review: I love gay Regencies, and this author’s previous book was like a REAL Regency romance, with gay characters, which is why I bought this one, but this one is all about dirty, unattractive lower-class people that are hard to daydream about. I feel cheated.
Five star review: I love gay Regencies, but I’ve read a lot of them, and it’s super refreshing to read about how the other 98% lived in those days. The main characters aren’t aristocrats, they’re ordinary people, and it was so rewarding to see them find love in spite of their difficult lives.
Consider the following:
Do you feel like you know your ideal reader any better now?
Does this knowledge help you move forward with your writing?
If your story is already complete, have these exercises opened up any fresh possibilities for outreach?
Do you feel more confident about your book?