Book reviews & audience in the Internet Age

Book reviews are the published writer’s reality show. Many of us cannot help ourselves. We peruse them to get a glimpse of our beloved audience, for better or for worse.

(Side note: A quick search on the history of book reviews came up with nothing! I cannot help but wonder when the first reviews were published in periodicals. Anyone?)

Remember, much of a writer’s time is spent alone in a room with a notebook or laptop, maybe in a cafe or library. Even when surrounded by people or pets, we’re often in our own worlds. By the time a book is published, we are hungry for ways to eavesdrop on the reader as she reads our words and enters our worlds.

Book reviews give us a window. Of course there are book signings, readings, and book clubs visits–all wonderful way of making contact. But for every one town we visit, there are hundreds we cannot. Historically, how did writers reach loyal readers and gain new ones? Book reviews.

Until the arrival of the internet. Suddenly writers (and artists, musicians, etc.) had new ways to connect with their audience and with each other. It started with message boards and blogs,  then myspace, facebook, and twitter. Ah, twitter.

I know that I’ve written about this before. Sure, there’s a lot of mundane filler on twitter, but there are also gems. For me, it’s nice to know that at 2am I can dip into twitter and connect with others also working during the witching hours, a patchwork picture of the creative process: Felicia Day peruses casting submissions for The Guild, Neil Gaiman works on his Monkey book, Leonard Nimoy shares an old photograph from his early days on film, Molly Robison writes a Ouija-inspired ghost song, Ellen Kushner listens to the final mix of her radio play The Witches of Lublin, Amanda Palmer composes an analysis of Rebecca Black and music today, Kabriel designs a new double-breasted vest, Kyle Cassidy shares his beautiful portrait of Michael Zulli. Along the way they talk to fans and to each other.

But back to book reviews. They carry weight. Depending on where they appear, they carry different types of weight. A New York Times book review is not the same as one posted on a personal blog. However both are online, are collected by google, reach people around the world, and can influence readers.

One twitter friend who reads The Silence of Trees sends out a tweet about how much she loved it. Perhaps ten of her friends go out and buy a copy on Amazon (or on kindle for $.99) Five of them love it and tweet about it, or post it on facebook, and so on it goes. The readership grows. It’s remarkable really. Word of mouth can become viral on the internet.

Speaking of viral and reviews, doubtless some of you have heard about the author who publicly trashed a book review and damaged her reputation (if not, here you go.) She broke the rule, you never respond to book reviews except to say, “Thank you.”

I don’t always share my book reviews, but I do read all that I can get my hands on (thank you, Google Alerts). I’m sure this will change in time. Published writer friends have told me that I will eventually stop reading the reviews. Perhaps.

This book review written by Kristen Thiel on The Nervous Breakdown made me happy:

“The Silence of Trees is a modern American narrative steeped in fairy tale. Though some scenes are rather laborious, most provide excellent vehicles for conveying Ukranian folklore and religion, the surrealism of war and immigration, and a woman sharing her story with both bluntness and wonder, the mixed result of finding her own voice after decades of restrained living.

Few book reviews start with a foot rub but, really, more should. In one of the most thrilling scenes in Valya Dudycz Lupescu’s first novel—exciting for its unabashed passion and feminism, and most important for the new story it promises to start even thirty pages from the book’s end…”    Read the rest here.

Tastes vary in style, story, genre. I understand that everyone will not like everything I write. I understand that people will take issue with a story or poem or book or a character for any of a hundred reasons. Some will love it. Some will just like it. Some will not. I guess that’s why they tell you not to read the reviews. So that you don’t get paralyzed as a writer.

As writers, we can read the reviews; we can share them (if we want); and we can bite our tongues and keep writing.

Thank you to everyone who takes the time to write a review for The Silence of Trees on their blog or on Amazon or Goodreads. For new writers, you are our PR teams.

And thank you, Kristen Thiel. You made my Thursday morning.

More ripples

When I went out to Philly for Kyle Cassidy and Trillian Stars’ wedding party back in 2009, I met several people whom I now consider to be dear friends, not the least of whom are Kyle and Trillian. There I also met Lindsay (Silveringrid) and Maura (Tigerinvaseline), whom I adore.

Upon Kyle’s gentle nudging, Lindsay decided to have a “Party from the Future” nearly one year ago, and that’s where I met the talented Molly Robison who played for Kyle & Trillian in a live broadcast. So began another treasured friendship. (Has it really only been a year!?)

It was also through Kyle’s blog that I met Madeline Carol Matz, a friend and gifted artist who created the beautiful cover art for The Silence of Trees.

So many things are converging this Spring. The world keeps getting smaller and ripples stretch out in unimaginable ways.

A few weeks ago, Lindsay joined a few of us (including Madeline) on an adventure up to Wisconsin. This weekend, a few of us will be venturing back to Wisconsin, this time to La Crosse, where the wonderful Maura has helped to set up a reading/booksigning for me and Madeline at the People’s Food Co-op.

Today Molly Robison has released her debut EP, Bedrooms and Attics, on Bandcamp. Kyle’s photograph grace the cover and interior. For only $5 you can discover Molly’s music, and years from now you can take pleasure in telling your friends that you heard of Molly Robison long before she was playing those sold out shows at the Metro.

How different my life would have been had I not gone to Philly.

Ripples.

You never know how one decision can change your life, especially those acts of random kindness.

Congratulations, Molly. I am so proud of you, and I look forward to a future filled with your music!

This

The weekend was filled with some of my favorite people, starting and ending with Kyle Cassidy, who was in town taking more photographs of tattooed veterans for his next book, War Paint. The Tinley Park local paper did a nice little write up here.

After picking Kyle up from the airport, we met with friends at Karyn’s on Green, a lovely vegan restaurant where the Brussels sprouts are heavenly, the fries fantastic, and the service wonderful. We had great conversation that ranged from life-changing effects of world travel to the changing face of time and memory, as well as talk about films, books, and photography. I love lunches like that. I love these people, new and older friends, who enrich my life in so many ways.

Kyle went off to Tinley Park, and we reconnected on Sunday after I ran from a semiannual Board meeting for the Chicago Writers Association to another inspiring meeting of the Chicago Creative Co-op (a.k.a. The Coop).

Most people stuck around to have dinner with Kyle, who joined us after taking photographs in the southwest suburbs. We also met Braden (who had been Kyle’s assistant in Tinley Park) and his girlfriend Tia, who fit in seamlessly with the group.

Another large dinner party gathered around our dining room table, with more lively conversation, followed by a house concert by the sweet and talented Molly Robison (who will be releasing her debut EP Bedrooms & Attics, in Spring 2011).

After folks went home and the kids went to bed, Kyle & I had the chance to chat as the embers died down on the fireplace. It was another moment, perfect and so dear.

This poem from e.e. cummings came my way today(after coming to my attention several time in the last week), this time from Jason Webley’s email and blog post:

i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

When I was twelve and oh-so-sad and lonely, or twenty and conflicted about my path, or thirty and tired and overwhelmed, I dreamed of this.

I dreamed of a home where I welcome intelligent, creative people; where I nourish my children with good food, friends, art, and stories; where I share meals with friends, laugh with my husband, write and read and dance and play.

I dreamed of the time and space to do what I love, to talk with people I respect and admire, to encourage people I believe in.

I may have been sad or discouraged or alone, but I always dreamed. Of this.

And I have more. Dreams of new and amazing days.

Just like this weekend.

May your day be amazing in the ways that matter most to you.