There is a line from Spider-Noir that I found especially fun. Do I need to add spoiler alert here? Relax. It’s memorable, but minor.
A guy comes to a PI’s office asking him to follow his wife to catch her cheating. He shows a picture of said wife to the PI (played with great glee by Nic Cage). This woman is absolutely gorgeous. The PI looks back and forth from the picture to the man. Sorry, but he’s not gorgeous, and that’s the point.
With perfect, world-weary delivery, Nic asks, “Are you a wealthy man, sir?”
“No.”
“Possessed of a keen wit?”
(Close-up on the not-gorgeous man’s face.) Baffled, he answers, “Huh?”
It’s a small moment, but it is funny. Good acting. Solid writing.
I sometimes wonder about character actors, though. How do those casting calls go? “Hey, uglies, we got a role for ya!”
And what about the very elderly cast as the soon-to-be dead in medical dramas? Do these actors call up their children and grandchildren and say, “The casting director took one look at me and said, ‘No makeup needed! You look half-dead already! I’m on the next season of The Pitt!”
It’s brutal. Or maybe it just acknowledges the vicissitudes of life (and death). What self-confidence they must have! Or self-acceptance. Or devotion to and love for the art? Are they mentally healthy? Is it simply the desperate need for a paycheck?
Given what I do, I should understand the impulse better. After all, I get book reviews. Most of my reviews are happy ones from satisfied readers. I go back and read those occasionally when I feel down. Some days, those keep me going.
The nasty ones, though? I don’t have to return to. I remember them verbatim. Like the reviewer who, several times, wrote, “Fluff you, Chazz!”
That person obviously meant, “Fuck you,” but her intent was undermined by her twee use of the word fluffing. As a euphemism, it’s not the threat she thinks it is.
Then there was the guy who wrote, “I see this author is Canadian. I certainly hope he stays there.” No worries, mate. I wouldn’t dream of coming anywhere near you. Book reviews aren’t a venue for personal attacks. Don’t fight me. Fight with your family at the dinner table like you usually do.
(In case you missed it, I’m not telling anyone what kind of review they should write. I’m merely saying what shouldn’t be controversial: Don’t be an asshole.)
This morning I saw an Instagram post from an author who made an interesting observation. Thoughtful critiques and bad reviews are part of the deal. But what’s with those reviewers who don’t like any book? They review plenty, but the ratings they give never rise above a one or two-star. The Instagram author asked, “Why do you read? It seems like you don’t enjoy it at all.”
Maybe some mean reviewers are jealous writers. (Of course, it’s entirely possible they could be right some of the time, too.) Or perhaps, as the popular saying goes, “The cruelty is the point.”
Some reviews feel performative, an attempt to demonstrate vast intellectual superiority. Like this gem: “Well, actually, the black plague was great for the average European peasant.”
Tee-hee. What fun!
If a book has zero negative reviews, it hasn’t reached a wide audience. Plenty of people who were never the target demographic are eager to decree, “This book is the end of literature,” or a similar maximalist claim. Too few people say, “It’s not for me.” Too many say, “I didn’t enjoy this and no one else should, either.”
No matter, though. I persist. Maybe I can relate to those character actors. I keep going because this is not just my job. It’s my purpose. Publishing can be scary, but the day-to-day of the writing life is fun. In daring to try to entertain others, I am entertained. I focus on writing the next book, what happens in the next paragraph, and polishing the next line.
Anybody who tries to do anything will encounter Negative Nellies who don’t know how to express themselves constructively. Or they’re just mean. The failure is not found in falling short of pleasing everyone. The failure is in not continuing to try.
To creators and doers everywhere:
It’s okay.
You’re okay.
Keep going.
Next is a powerful word.