Reviewers...

Are emotional creatures. Any writer knows he/she will get both the good and the bad, and most will not enter into debates about reviews. Hell, a lot won’t even read them. They’ve done their work, they’re happy with the result and over the moon to be published. Reviews, however, can make or break a writer. A bad review can doom a fledgling career or damage a growing reputation; a good review can propel a writer to stardom or simply to an increase in income.

For readers, it’s a little different. By reading reviews, a reader can garner a few spoilers and the opinions of others. They can then go out and buy the book, or borrow it from the library, or not buy at all.

I read reviews, especially of those books that aren’t out in Australia yet. I like to know what others think. Not because I’m so weak-willed as to be influenced by them, but because I’m interested. For particular authors, I’ll buy and read the book simply to find out what the fuss is all about.

Most times, I’m right in thinking the reviewers missed the point of the book totally. And sometimes, I find that they are right.

Two examples just to show I’m not squeamish.

S. L. Viehl’s book Rebel Ice, has come in for some criticism for basically destroying the relationship between Reever and Cherijo. One reviewer, a reader, went so far as to say he tossed the book into the trash (see Amazon.com), another said she wouldn’t be reading the series any more because after all the adventures they’d had together to finally find happiness, she didn’t want to start all over again. These two reviewers missed the point, and the theme, and what the book was about. If they want a series of clichéd happy endings, this is not the series to indulge in. If they want truth and consequence, then this is a great series.

Yes, it’s a departure from the norm, but hey, what a ride!

How can you keep a character like Cherijo from always winning the day and falling into predictability? Ms Viehl has answered that question admirably and sneakily.

This book is the harbinger of new beginnings, and to do that, something had to happen. And did, in spades.

Micha, by Laurell K. Hamilton, on the other hand, is more of the same angst that has populated the Anita Blake series since Narcissus in Chains. The navel-gazing is tedious and bores me to tears. Anita has gone from a strong, self-possessed and honourable woman to an emotional train wreck unwilling to make hard decisions. I don’t give a rat’s bladder about how many men she’s fucking in how many different ways. I don’t. And as such, I’m tired of the scenes. They add little to the story, and have no consequences worth worrying about. I'd be telling all the men to simply fuck off. Anita broke the fourth mark back in Circus of the Damned. She's much more powerful now, and it's time she used it to divest herself of the leeches she thinks she loves.

Just to kill any misunderstanding here, Ms Hamilton has already stated that the pregnancy issue in the upcoming Danse Macabre is a ‘scare’, so all this debate about who the father is, is nothing more than bullshit. Will I buy the book given that it’s reportedly a thousand pages long? How much of it will be useless sex scenes? I don’t know, but I want the series to return to the supernatural, and not be a reflection of Ms Hamilton’s own sex life. There’s been precious little of the supernatural so many readers bought the books for, and as such, only the hardline fans are still buying.

That’s sad because the series started out with so much promise.

One of the rules of writing a great book, or series, is to have ups and downs. Series are just really, really long books. A writer must lift the reader, crush the reader, take the reader on the same journey as the characters. If you have the same ‘ole, same ‘ole, readers become bored and move on to someone else. To keep a reader, you must hurt them, make them want a solution, make them keep going to find out how to achieve happiness or at least give them an appropriate resolution.

If you’re tempted to write a review, never look at the surface of a book, look to the underline themes and plots, how it’s progressed, whether the consequences of actions is appropriate. Once you’ve done that, you’ll see the book as the writer intended, and not be influenced by the nasty prejudice of Happily Ever After at all costs.