What Makes A Great Review?

Last night we got the best review ever for Darker By Degree. Well, maybe not the best review ever, but a damned satisfying one, the kind that makes a smile pop out on your face throughout the day and gives you the warm fuzzies, the kind that lets you know you did what you meant to do. More about that in a moment.

Reviews are important, especially for those of us who've taken the self-pub route, and they're important for a number of reasons. First, most readers are reluctant to take a blind jump. If they've never heard of you, they may be reluctant to give you a try, even if you've got a nifty cover and a catchy blurb. But if they see other people dipping a toe in the water, and then caring enough to describe that experience, they're more likely to take the plunge. Second, well-done reviews give a little more information, and information from a reader's perspective as opposed to the author's perspective. We as writers sometimes miss what's best (or worst) or most compelling about our own works. Reviewers can point that out, especially to other potential readers who might be of a like mind. Third, reviews help you get noticed. They move you up in searches, they help you get linked, they drive people to your books.

So, yes, we want reviews. We need reviews. But we want good reviews. And by good reviews, I don't mean, "Oooh, that was the best book I ever read!" reviews. I mean thoughtful, meaningful reviews. Yes, we hope they're flattering and complimentary, but we also hope they add something to the conversation, that they pique someone's interest, that they illuminate.

I've seen people tweet about "Another 5-star Review!" But I've also learned that the vaunted 5-star review is not all it's cracked up to be. It's common knowledge that reviews can be gamed, and are gamed quite regularly. Many people don't "trust" a 5-star review, figuring that it's either friends of the author or the authors themselves salting the mine. I've read time and time again in comments hither and yon that potential readers are really interested in the 3- and 4-star reviews, because they tend to be better balanced, reasoned, thought-out, and explained.

There was an interesting post on Konrath's blog earlier this week where he sort of trashes the notion of 1-star reviews. I can see his point -- which was that a lot of 1-star reviews (hell, a lot of reviews, period) are nonsense because they're not really reviews, but instead knee-jerk reactions to what may or may not even be legitimate critical points, like the price of the book or the genre. As someone who often writes in the horror genre, I would like to personally pound anyone who gives a horror novel an automatic 1-star because they "don't like horror." But I do think Konrath kind of wanders off his main point just a tad by twisting things to say in effect there are "no 1-star books." In his defense, he did start off my stating something about "assuming a certain level of competence," but still, there are some pretty atrocious books out there. As always, nice debate in the comments section.

There's also mixed feeling in readers about soliciting reviews, mostly because many don't understand that's how any traditionally published book gets reviews: you send out arcs or free copies and hope that reviewers will read and review them. It's really no different than, say, using a service like the new BookRooster, which for a reasonable fee will give free copies to their readers (in your genre) until you've received a minimum of 10 Amazon reviews. The part that makes people feel squidgy about it is that each review has to start out with a disclaimer that the reviewer received a free copy to review. For readers who understand the process, this should be no problem, but more casual readers may think, "Hey, why do they have to GIVE the book away...." Hopefully, that kind of attitude will be dispelled over time as the practice becomes more common. After all, you're not guaranteed a "good" review, so it's not like an old payola scam.

And there are increasingly people and sites, like Red Adept, that will review self-pubbed books for free. Also joining groups like GoodReads, Shelfari, and LibraryThing can link you up to readers who are more likely to review your books.

But sometimes the best review is the one you haven't sought out, the reader who found your book, who enjoyed it, and who took the time to tell everybody why. Which brings me back to the most excellent review that we got last night for Darker By Degree. Yeah, it wasn't a "5-star," and it wasn't all gushy, but it was better than that.  First of all, it was by someone who does lots of reviews (over 600!), and they're thoughtful reviews, not drive-bys or love fests. And in looking over those reviews, the reader is not afraid to point out what's good and bad in a book. They didn't give away too much of the plot, but they hit they high points that they found compelling. And then at the end, they gave the best compliment a self-pubbed author could hope to receive:

"Maddie Pryce has a career as an actor, but not a lot of work. In fact her day to day bills are paid by her job as an usher in an elegant but crumbling old art deco theatre showing vintage movies.

One night after a triple bill of 30's and 40's classic horror, she finds one of her coworkers murdered. Another coworker makes himself scarce when the cops try to interview him about the homicide. One detective in particular, Kyle Oberman, takes a more than casual interest in Maddie, as it seems that she has managed to become the object of a stalker who is looking for a missing porn actress and thinks Maddie might know something about the missing woman.

With a dose of action, some good dialogue and Maddie's entertaining views on Hollywood, this mystery is well worth reading. I read it on my iphone and didn't notice any major formatting problems. In fact I would not have been surprised to pull this one off a library shelf in hard cover.

Recommended."

Yep, the best thing about that review, the thing that warmed the cockles of my cynical little heart? "I would not have been surprised to pull this one off a library shelf in hardcover." Wow. I will say, Susan and Harold and I worked our collective butts off to not only put together an engrossing read, but to present is as professionally as a traditionally published novel from a major house. For at least one reader, we accomplished that, and that is a fine, fine thing.

Behind the SCENES: Collaboration

Keri and I began our writing partnership 14 years ago. I clearly remember fellow authors warning us of the hazards: you'll ruin your friendship, you'll never be able to agree on rewrites, you will clash over the propriety of your intellectual property. Sure, those things can happen and perhaps they often do, but luckily for us, we've never spent a single moment regretting our decision.

To the contrary, it seems that with each new project we gain more enjoyment in our ability to hone the style we've created together. She leans toward horror and fantasy while my bent is more mainstream and quirky humor, but in concert, and with a similar eye to description and ear to voice, we've found that the variations can mesh beautifully, even artfully.

I believe we have taught each other many things about writing, about process, and I know that our collaboration has improved us both, vastly. Put simply, it's great to have that sense of your own accomplishments and it's even better when you have someone with whom to share your excitement.

I look forward to watching our "family" of books step out onto the stage of publication. They're good kids, and we've shepherded them along with every ounce of care and talent at our disposal. It's time to let go--they are ready.

If we are fortunate enough to have your readership, I hope you'll get a sense, as you read along, of the egoless teamwork that we employed then enjoyed as we worked. Back in those first couple of years, people actually came up to us in the cafe where we chose to do our writing to tell us how much we had entertained them as they sat and ate their lunch. We didn't intend that and for a while weren't even aware of it, but as time wore on we came to embrace not only the work, but the comedy relief we were accidentally providing.

When I was a kid, I remember watching the old Dick Van Dyke Show and thinking, "That's it! I want to be a TV comedy writer like Sally and Mort." I wanted to know what it was like to sit around that table and come up with the gags that would crack people up week after week. It was my most earnest wish to be a part of that kind of team.

Now that I look back on how we started, what we're about to launch into, and where we envision going, I think I got that wish.

Wait, a Second!

Yes, Keri and I both have a handful of stories from writer's conferences, and files full of the business cards, promises, and rejections left in their wake. I'm not slamming conferences in general; I can recall many absolutely fabulous conference experiences. Rather I'm speaking more to the mindset with which some approach them. I know I did. I really thought I'd made it at my first conference when a very nice Senior Editor at St. Martin's sat by a fireplace with me and said, "Wow. You're a real writer, aren't you?" Then, although it was not her practice to do so, she asked me to send her my entire manuscript, not a synopsis and three chapters. She was very professional and I hold no ill will over the rejection: that MS was not ready for prime time. The reading sample was perfection, and many parts of that book still strike me with awe when I read them, but the middle sagged and still does. But that was my first novel, and if I ever choose to rewrite it, I will know what to do.

At another conference I met with the Senior Editor of a small press who all but got into the specific amount of the advance check. This one never even replied, never used the pre-stamped manilla envelope to return the MS. Nice. I fantasized about showing up three years later when this person blew back through the area to accost him at the Q&A with the following query of my own: "What have you done in the past three years? I've created two human beings and written another novel. Can't get your ass to the post office can you?" Of course I never did that, but thinking of it was great therapy.

So take heart: there are the times when you're naive and unready, but there are also the times when you're the together one and they are a-holes. And if you know which is which, you can probably handle self-publishing just fine.

Re-Vision

I'm Susan, and I've been writing for 45 years. I'm not terribly old, but for lack of another talent, I did start pretty early. I have always romanticized writing, comparing everything I wrote to Hemingway while longing for a seat at Dorothy's Algonquin Round Table and fearing that F. Scott had simply "used all the words". I was raised to love books and to revere their authors, maybe a little too much. "They" were the authors and I was me. The odds were long and the work longer. But still I managed to crank out poems, songs, stories, and essays at a feverish clip throughout my childhood and into adulthood.

Then my fear was that I could never compose a "book-length" work. That one dogged me for years until, at 34, I finally finished my first novel. Then in a five year span I cranked out two more novels and two kids--pretty good production, especially for a highly trained self-doubter. Now to get the three non-breathing offspring published.

Fast-forward ten years and here I am, having played by the "rules" and submitted, oh yes, submitted, for well over a decade. If in those earlier years I questioned my ability to be a "real" writer, what now am I to do with the prospect of being a "real" indie publisher? Oddly enough, when Keri proposed the idea, I was ecstatic...ready. I suppose I had finally come to the age and the point where the fear was gone and the fallacies exorcized. And if I could take control of what has always been mine anyway, then why not get the beauty and the angst out there and let the words fall where they may.

Keri likes the old notion I walked around with for years that if I couldn't manage to be delivered to the reader by the big houses, and in hardcover of course, that I would just type out my stuff and hide it amongst the "real" books on the library shelves. I might have done it, too. Or you know what, maybe that's exactly what I'm finally getting the nerve to do.

My Three Favorite Quotes From The Weekend's Research

"I'll never write another synopsis again!"


"If you're a lousy writer, self-publishing is a terrible idea."

And my favorite, from Susan:

"Whenever I tell somebody I'm a writer, the first thing they ask is where they can get my books. I've never had anyone ask who published me."

The New Paradigm in Publishing

(Cross-posted from The Spectral Obelisk for newcomers)

Used to be, only idiots self-published. I know I was against it. Vehemently against it. The only people who self-published were delusional, furtive little creatures, the kind who show up at writer's conferences with their scrawled and dog-eared manuscripts clutched in their sweaty paws, wanting someone, anyone to tell them, "You're a genius!"

When that unlikely event failed to occur, there was always the vanity presses, waiting like snake-oil salesmen in the backs of their shabby carnival wagons, doling out self-labeled bottles of misplaced self-esteem. It was a step up from hermits cranking out mimeographed pages in their parent's basement and forcing them onto hapless passers-by, but not by much. Every once in a while there was a success story like Robert James Waller, proving that it could be done. Why, one minute he was a failed writer and the next minute Clint Eastwood was speaking his words on the big screen! Ah, but that ignored the thousands of dollars and hours and miles Waller had to put in before he sold his first book. And even then, you have to factor in luck. Luck had a lot to do with it.

Well, the days of investing your life's savings in a crate of books, packing them in the rumble seat of your jalopy and heading out on a whistlestop tour of the byways are over. Way over.

Now, it costs you next to nothing. You don't have to quit your day job or save up sick days. You can do it all from the comfort of your home for pennies. And most importantly, it no longer matters if you self-publish. The leper colonies have shut down and self-published people can walk out among decent society without having to disguise themselves.

Ah, I've made it sound so effortless, so tantalizing! Why, I can just publish my masterpiece and readers will intuitively find me and realize my magnificent work! Er, no.

There are still two unavoidable facts that hold true and will always hold true. One, your work has to be good, and I mean good enough to pass the same muster as a book from a big publisher. I've been looking and north of 80% of self-published fiction is a hot mess. That's a non-scientific number, but it's not far off and bound to only increase as writers realize the possibilities and throw their overripe bait out into the water. Underdeveloped writers are going to stop working to get better, and hopeless writers are going to be able to publish unreadable dreck. You see, the problem with removing the gatekeepers of quality is you've leveled the playing field to a point where it's going to be flooded with people who have no idea what they're doing. On the up side, if you're good and smart and tenacious and work your butt off doing what you need to do, you have a good chance of doing at least as well as you would do with a traditional publisher, perhaps even better.

Fact number two has to do with working your butt off. If you bypass a traditional publisher, you still have to do everything a traditional publisher does. Your private publishing staff must include: beta readers, a copy editor, a proofreader, a cover designer/illustrator, a typesetter, a marketing strategist, a publicist, an IT expert/web designer, and a business manager. If you lack in any of those departments, you're apt to fail.

Now, if you're lucky and clever, you yourself may be able to fill many of those roles. You may have friends, acquaintances, and family that can fill some of those roles. Chances are, you'll have to hire some independent contractors or barter services to fill some of those roles. The truth is, you're likely at first to spend way more time marketing yourself than you do writing. And, boy, you better be a good writer to start off with, and willing to learn from your mistakes.

So, no, it's not easy, not by a far shot. But the publishing business is changing and I can't think of anything more exciting than that.

(Coming soon:  the myths of self-publishing versus legacy publishing.)

Big Decisions

(Cross-posted from the Spectral Obelisk for newcomers)


So, anyway, last Thursday night I was in the throes of rewriting. What had started out as a lark -- hey, let's dust off that old manuscript and see what it looks like -- had morphed into this life-and-death struggle worthy of a nature-documentary-waterhole-showdown-on-the-savannah. And I was very much the gazelle and not the crocodile.

The actual rewrite was going well in terms of, you know, improving the book. I now had the experience and judgment to see the saggy spots and the repetitive imagery and the telling-versus-showing. As of Thursday night, I had cut something close to 40,000 words and had a nice little roadmap for switching around some action, integrating the remaining parallel storyline, and strengthening some dicey motivation. Problem was, it was never going to hit the magic word number the publisher was adamant about. (The publisher had not seen the whole book, just sample chapters and an outline. And while there are good reasons for books to be shorter, it's also my belief that a story takes as long to tell as it takes to tell.)

So I had a dilemma. Make the book less rich and the story weaker by taking some shortcuts to hit an arbitrary number, or put the manuscript back in a drawer. At about 7:00, I had an epiphany. It was probably a combination of things: words from some truly swell writers I've met, research on a somewhat unrelated matter, and some inexplicable light going on in my head. So for the next several hours I put the book aside and did some research. (I am a whiz a research, a research-savant, if you will.)

It came down to a comparison chart, the kind you see when you're trying to decide between "standard" and "premium" options of whatever you're buying. What comes with what? I was dealing with a small press (a nice, respectable small press -- I wish them no ill will). And what were they offering me? No advance. Publishing in trade paperback and ebook formats. A professional cover. Listings in the catalogues, a press release, and a few copies sent around to reviewers. A standard royalty fee.

I realized quite quickly that whatever they were offering me, I could offer myself. So, just like that, I've decided to become to my own small press. I've been editing professionally for 20 years. I've been advising people on marketing their writing for about that amount of time. I'm surrounded by people who are talented designers and marketers.

I realize better than anyone that this is going to take an immense amount of work, but the only thing I'm risking is my time. (Well, and the time of the people around me who have agreed to launch this experiment with me, but they're doing it of their own free will.) Phase one should be finished by July. For the first time in two years, I'm actually excited about my writing.

(Of course starting, oh, about now, it's back to the rewrite. The sagging middle ain't going to fix itself.)

Ta-da!

Hello, there. Welcome to the new digs. Some people may know me from my "fun" blog, The Spectral Obelisk. The purpose of this new blog is to focus solely on the world of writing, specifically self-publishing, or as I would prefer to call it "publishing yourself" to wash it clean of any old icky associations that might be lingering in people's heads.

After some intense research and soul searching, and after 20 years of counseling people that publishing yourself was akin to being your own lawyer, I've come to believe that not only is publishing yourself a viable option for writers, but it's going to eventually drastically change the landscape of publishing. I'm not by any means predicting the demise of traditional publishing, but in the last 18 months or so the paradigm has shifted, and traditional publishing houses will eventually have to change and morph to accommodate that shift.

There are several excellent blogs about publishing yourself, and I'll be adding them to the blog roll as this site fills out. But I want to do something a little different. You see, I decided a week ago today that I was going to become my own small press. I have four novels -- two solo and two mysteries co-written with my talented friend Susan -- that we're going to publish over the next couple of months.

So what I'm offering here is an adventure that you can follow, if you're so inclined. From the spark of an idea, through the research, step-by-step through the nuts and bolts of all aspects of publishing your own work. I hope to have guest bloggers who can offer their own expertise on all aspects or writing, publishing, and marketing, and provide a clearinghouse of sorts for the bits and bobs of advice and tips and reliable information that's strewn all over the web.

You can watch in real time as we take our work and get it to market. Hopefully learn from our mistakes, and possibly have the inspiration to take control of your own art.