So Sunspots never made it to the next level of ABNA and the reviews were available today. One reviewer seemed to like it and the other, well, hated it. You need two yes votes to move on. Interesting that the one that hated it was articulate and detailed in her/his dislike and the positive review not so much detail. The hater did not get that the poem is a reflection of the emotional arc of the MC and a line of the poem heads every chapter. He/she thought it was “tacky” for an author to quote herself. Hello? Also he/she didn’t like my style, thought that I was trying too hard to be literary. What? How do you do that? I got a review from someone who said the poetic style of my writing made her melt. Why can’t I get that kind of reviewer when I am looking for the brass ring? So go figure. Also the BRAG Medallion turned me down for Sunspots. Rude email about how there is no way they are going to give me any feedback. Your book is below our standards but it’s your mystery to uncover why.
So my ego is smaller than a gnat’s ass about now. The good news is that Walking with Elephants is having a good run on E-reader News Today. Might make my money back.
Now for The Goldfinch. Simply put, I’ve been enthralled. Haven’t been able to put it down for days and at more then 700 pages that’s what you need. I feel she is like a modern-day Dickens and wouldn’t you know I found a review that said just that. Of course as a hack writer I feel inferior but she has also inspired me to try and do better with my latest project. And even this Pulitzer Prize winner has many haters. Half of its Amazon stars are 3 or less. So go figure. She didn’t even get a show stopping Kirkus review or a resounding one from Publisher’s Weekly. And her writing style? Well, I think she made up words. I could not find fubsiness anywhere so maybe it was a typo. And strange usage too–guttering around in the dark? Huh? But still the book captivated me. The elite NYC blue-blood scene, antiques, stolen art world. How Theo is defined by the one horrifying event in his life that changes everything that might have been for him from that day forward. Tartt was obviously born to the writer world. Published right away, the best university, the best writing pals. She must have been born with a pen in her mouth, computer in her lap. Faustian deal for commercial success. Not my history, and not my present. But all I can do is try and be better. Can I do it? We’ll see.
Satan–how do I get in touch with you just in case?
