This post is two-part, the first part being from Baj, and second part being from author bud Adelaide Thorne. Enjoy this “conversation” between them.
Baj ~
I am unashamedly a Hufflepuff.
As you most likely know, three of the most dominant traits in Hufflepuff House are a love of foodstuffs, a strong sense of justice, and nearly infallible loyalty. This is important because I have a problem that pits two of these traits against one another. It’s a problem I appear to share with many other Hufflepuff-minded people, so I have taken to thinking of it as “the Hufflepuff dilemma”, hence the title of this post. (If you don’t know what a Hufflepuff is, it’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay because clearly you haven’t read or watched Harry Potter, but it’s okay because you can still make sense of this post without any additional HP knowledge.)
On to the problem.
I exist as two different people in the book world: a reader, and an author. As a reader, I understand that books are subjective to the individual, that no two people will have the same reading experience with any one book, because no two people have the same life experience. I understand that people are allowed to have feelings, they’re allowed to form their own opinions, to have their own preferences, and we’re all allowed to agree or disagree. I understand that readers leave reviews to help out other readers by sharing their thoughts transparently, that reviews and ratings are meant to reflect feedback on an author’s work, not on the author as a person. And I’m good with that!
But once I became a published author…these once clear-cut lines began to blur for me. Following the release of my first book in 2018, I learned a lot about myself ― one thing being just how NOT thick my skin is. When I got my first rating that was under 5 stars, I can’t even begin to tell you how low it made me feel. I discovered quickly thereafter that I was not going to be one of those authors who can check the reviews and ratings of their books without being emotionally affected. So I stopped checking them. And I was good with that!
Then came the unexpected: I found that when I read other people’s books, I was now terrified of rating and reviewing them honestly. I could barely give constructive feedback even as a beta reader. I now knew what it took to compile a book, to pour your heart and soul into it, and I couldn’t stand to give anything below 5 stars. Just imagining it made my stomach cramp up. All I could think about was how my rating/review might make the other writer feel.
But then the self-important reader in me reared her head, wanting justice for each star, arguing that other readers needed to know my true thoughts on the books I read, that I couldn’t give my stamp of approval to EVERYTHING, or it would eventually come to mean nothing (stamp tramp, anyone?).
The writer cringed at this, already feeling waves of guilt for the criticisms stirring in her head, conflicted by her loyalty to other writers, especially the indie authors, particularly her friends.
Writer: “It’s one thing to be brutally honest as a critique partner or beta reader, because the story can still be fixed at that point. But when the story is published?? That doesn’t seem fair!”
Reader: “Of course it’s fair! You’re allowed to feel things about books even though you’re an author now!!!!”
Writer: “But it’s different. The rules are different! I don’t feel safe to express any opinions that aren’t 100% positive. It feels too much like a betrayal.”
Reader: “Psh. No writer should publish their work if they aren’t okay with people tearing it apart.”
Writer: “That’s like saying no one should have babies unless they’re okay with people calling them ugly! No one is okay when someone calls their baby ugly.”
Reader: “Fine, weakling. Then be a conformist and do what people do in the baby situation ― say the baby is cute, even though you think it’s ugly. Because ‘feelings’, blah blah. If that helps you sleep at night…”
Writer: “You’re being too harsh. Though…I mean…I don’t want to be dishonest. Other readers should be able to trust me. And you’re right, published writers are aware that discontented readers come with the territory. It’s inescapable. But still…it’s just so hard to hash out all the things I didn’t like in someone else’s book, knowing they might see it!”
Reader: “Meh, helps ‘em grow a thicker skin. They’ll cry, then they’ll get over it. Life goes on.”
Writer: “You’re fine with making someone cry?! How are you this cold???”
I wonder if you see where I’m going with this. Can you tell what my problem is?
Define the line between loyalty and justice, kindness and honesty, grace and tough-love.
Okay okay, I know you’re thinking it ― this isn’t JUST a Puff prob. It may be universal on some level. But as a Hufflepuff, I feel sooooo strongly about being loyal, but I also care equally about being genuine. I am simultaneously drawn to the white lie while abhorring the cop-out of it. How do I navigate this reader-writer thing without losing my mind, my integrity, or all my writer friends?
I may never stop asking myself this question completely, but after soooo much trial and error, soul-searching, and sometimes even forgetting my own policies, my Hufflepuff heart has settled on a happy medium for now. You’re welcome to steal it if it works for you, other struggle-bussers. Here it is:
As a reader
Be candid without being mean. Always consider the potential that the author may come across your review. Exercise a bit of public sensitivity. Readers don’t get a free pass to be snarky and ugly; that’s actually being a troll, and it’s not okay. If you want to share your uncensored opinions about a book with someone, feel free to PM them or talk about it on an otherwise private channel.
As a writer-reader
Don’t give ratings to indie books (not even 5-star), but do leave reviews. Be candid without being mean. Use the compliment sandwich for critiques, focusing more on the good. Exercise public sensitivity, but don’t give out participation trophies. Giving out false positive reviews won’t make up for your past hurts. Remember that you can’t save everyone from every negative experience ever.
I’m not necessarily saying that everyone should adopt this model. I’m just saying this is what works for me and my Hufflepuff self. I can live with these policies without feeling ashamed of myself, either as a reader or a writer.
{ Read Baj’s points on how to give criticism constructively. }
Adelaide ~
Hello from the other side.
(Actually, we’re on the same side. I just wanted to say that.)
I, too, have some major Hufflepuffian tendencies. I strive for honesty, but I run from conflict and hurt feelings. It is, as you said, a universal problem, one that became far more glaring once my first book released. Suddenly, I looked back on every review I’d ever written and wondered, “Wow, am I a total butt?” I promptly amended the tone of them. I may have even deleted some. Because you’re right: we don’t think about how our reviews come across until we’re the ones receiving them.
Gail Carson Levine has this disclaimer on her Goodreads profile: “Just letting you all know: I’m only going to review books I love. There’s enough negative criticism without me piling on. A book is too hard to write.”
I love that she’s honest enough to own it. It’s a motto I’d love to adopt. But then, what happens when a friend (or even acquaintance) hands me their book and I don’t leave a review? That author would know I didn’t love their book. So that can’t be the solution for me.
Part of me is tempted to say no more reviews. In order to avoid hurting people’s feelings, I can insist upon a no-review policy, even if I 100% loved the book. That’s also a poor solution, though, as I understand the precious value of a review. Could I really deprive an author of a 5-star review just because I’m too scared to give another author 3 stars?
One of the most simultaneously awesome and challenging things of being an author is navigating your way through this quid-pro-quo situation that inevitably develops. When you meet another author, there will almost always be an exchanging of books, particularly if you both write within the same genre. It’s just what happens. And the unspoken agreement is, “If you read mine and write a review, I’ll do the same for you.” I say this is awesome because I love supporting authors, so I don’t mind the idea of reading their book and writing a review. And, as a reader, of course I’m excited about the prospect of a new book.
But, as an author, I loathe this arrangement. LOATHE IT. I want to flee from it. I want to pretend I’m blind, or say I’m allergic to paper. And eBooks. And audiobooks. Because what happens–and trust me, future authors: this will happen–if I don’t like the book? And, even worse…what happens if they liked mine??
This is the worst. I can tell you right now that I would rather an author hate my book and me love theirs than the other way around. That’s right: I would rather suffer a negative review than have to be the one giving it. But, chances are, that author won’t tell me if they hated it, because they’re in this pickle too, and they don’t want to crush my soul any more than I’d want to crush theirs.
So, what’s my solution? I actually don’t know. Isn’t that great? I spent this whole time jotting out my thoughts and never reached a conclusion. I can’t bring myself to hand out 5-star reviews like candy; I can’t crush an author’s soul; I can’t confine myself to never, ever reviewing books; and I can’t opt for GCL’s method. I might have to adopt yours, Baj, though I didn’t know it was possible to leave a review without stars! I like how that allows for the opportunity of honest feedback without limiting my feedback to a quantifiable, sometimes inflated reaction.
In the end, it sounds like honesty and loyalty both win! Can we Hufflepuffs rejoice now?
What about you? How do you navigate justice vs. loyalty when you’re leaving a book review? Tell us in the comments!
To learn more about Adelaide, visit her online at her website or on Instagram.
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