I get asked for book reviews, with some amount of frequency.
I don’t blame anyone for asking me, or asking others, to review their
book. Now that I’m an author I empathize with that sentiment, quite deeply. All
authors want and need readers, and reviewers. More than money, or at least on equal footing, writers
crave readers who enjoy their work. They seek validation that their work is
good, and connects with a reader on some emotional level. And most want others to write about their book.
But please know that when I get your email, it makes me wince,
and hurt a little inside, as reviews present many problems to the reviewer.
Here are a few:
They’re a huge time
commitment. Reviewing a book requires you to read the book (you better read
it; “reviewing” a book because you know the author is unethical), and read it
closer than you might if you were reading for pure enjoyment. Then comes the
writing. To write a review of any substance requires some degree of planning,
and thought, and care. You can certainly go the route of a four-five sentence capsule
of what you liked about a book, and there is a place for those, particularly on
Amazon. But I think careful reviewing is an art form. An honest review should do
more than breezily sketch the plot and end with “I highly recommend this book
to anyone who enjoys Robert E. Howard.” A good, earnest review should teach you
something new about the book, or the genre, and place the author in a community
of like authors. There should be some indication of the style and manner in
which the story is told. In short, a good review is itself an art form, and
takes time to craft properly.
Related to the above, reading
something new must always close other doors, possibly to something better. Years
ago I wrote a post for Black Gate on the problem of the glut
of fantasy in the market. An intractable problem facing new writers is the
weight of history, and the hundreds of thousands of authors that have gone
before them. In my middle age is it apparent that I will NEVER be able to read
all the books I want to. Right now I’m barely managing a book a week, which
puts me at 52 books a year. At age 48, I might have another 40 years of life in
me, if I’m lucky… that’s a little over 2,000 books, at best. A sobering
thought. My time is finite and I want to spend it well. Should I read a new
book by an unknown author, or should I read the Poul Anderson and Fritz Leiber
and Michael Moorcock titles I haven’t gotten to yet? Or re-read a beloved old
classic?
The moral quandary of
reviewing bad books, or books you don’t enjoy. What if you don’t like a book,
either one you’ve sought out, or one you’ve been asked to review? Do you write
the review, or say nothing? Do you write a (semi) dishonest review, focusing
perhaps on a few things you found OK, while leaving out your valid critiques? I
still think of this
brilliant review of Patrick Rothfuss’ The
Name of the Wind, a highly regarded book which I detested. Like a surgeon
Adam Roberts dissects his problems with that book, comparing it unfavorably with
The Children of Hurin, released at the
same time by the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. Roberts’ review is perhaps a little
arch in places but it’s not mean-spirited. I find it illuminating, with much to
teach us about the potent spell good fantasy can place on the reader, and the
importance of being taken out of the modern world. Some might object to this
line of criticism. If you have nothing good
to say, don’t say anything at all. I do believe there is a time and place
for that sentiment, but I also believe that good critique serves a valuable
function. The problem is that I don’t think most authors want to hear it. And I’m
not sure I want to write it, as I don’t like hurting anyone’s feelings.
...
Now that I’ve spent some considerable digital ink expressing
my deep reservations of the book review enterprise, believe it or not I do want to do more reviews of new works—as I am able. I want to support the
sword-and-sorcery community, and there are many worthy publications and authors
and titles that deserve the exposure and the commentary. I’ll mix them in as I
can.
