The Egg McMuffin of Books

A clusterfuck of dreadful proportions blew up at Dear Author yesterday over a book that received an F grade, and as I watched the drama unfold, I was reminded of McDonalds' new #AdFail campaign, where people keep comparing things to the Egg McMuffin as if that were the highest compliment they could imagine.



The first time I saw the ad, I was stymied for a moment by the opening scene in which a man told his girlfriend, "I love you," and after thinking for a moment, she replied, "You're the Egg McMuffin of boyfriends."



*blink* WTF?



Just what was she saying? It felt like one of those Twix "Need a moment?" commercials where the guy crams a Twix into his mouth to put off answering a question the woman wouldn't like the answer to.



As the commercial progressed, I realized it was supposed to be a compliment, even though it came off as more of a backhanded compliment, an oblique way of saying, "You're not great, but you're mine."



Frankly, calling me the Egg McMuffin of wives would be the fastest way for Mr Robin to land himself in divorce court, but I digress.



Sure, Egg McMuffins are cheap, convenient, plentiful and fill a need, but they're hardly the pinnacle of culinary achievement, and frankly, any idiot can make a bigger, better Egg McMuffin at home in less than ten minutes for a fraction of the cost. Egg McMuffins from McDonald's are usually slapped together haphazardly, with the little egg disk sticking out one side and the Canadian bacon sticking out the other, the cheese is stuck to the wrapper, and the English muffins are often cold, tough, and/or burnt around the edges.



And yet millions of people buy them every day. Certainly a lot more diners are buying Egg McMuffins from McDonald's every day than are buying filets from five-star restaurants like Ruth's Chris steakhouses. Why? Because they're cheap, convenient, plentiful and fill a need. Ruth's Chris steakhouses, meanwhile, are fewer and farther between, they're not open for breakfast, they don't have a drive-thru, and they certainly aren't cheap.



And while many Ruth's Chris devotees would rather go hungry than soil their palate with fast food, a lot of people actually like Egg McMuffins. They buy them even when they can afford much better. I'll admit that I've bought a few Egg McMuffins in my day, when I was on the road or late for work or feeling lazy or just plain in the mood for one. But these days I'd rather make my own because I know they'll be done exactly the way I like them.



How does this relate to books and book reviews, you wonder? I'm getting there, I really am. Just stay with me here.



See, when I'm in a strange city--for instance when I attend an RWA National conference--what I eat depends on variables such as how much money I have, how much time I have, what time of day it is, what restaurants are nearby, and what kind of food I like and/or am in the mood for. If I'm in a hurry and/or low on funds, I might grab an Egg McMuffin from a nearby McD's. If I've got plenty of time and money and am in the mood fine dining, I might go to a nice restaurant I already know and trust, or one that my friends have raved about, or I might seek out the concierge for a recommendation...or I might look online at menus and restaurant reviews. I don't bother looking for reviews of McD's, or Arby's, or any other fast-food franchise, because their quality is fairly universal and I know exactly what I'm getting without even looking at a menu.



And when I want to read a book, I do the same thing. Usually my first impulse is to buy a book from an author I already know and trust. I may not enjoy the content of all a trusted author's books to the same degree, but I can always count on their being well written and edited to within an inch of their lives. But my favorite authors don't always have a new book out, and they don't always write what I'm in the mood for.



Sadly, most of them don't write erotic romance, so usually when I'm in the mood for an erotic romance (which is quite often), I'm flying blind. I'd ask a friend for a recommendation, but most of my friends don't read much erotic romance even if they write it. There's a crap-ton of erotic romance out there, both house-published and self-published, and finding a book I'm likely to enjoy can be a daunting task. When I'm buying from Amazon or the publisher's website, I will look at the reader reviews for what they did and didn't like, but I don't usually go looking for reviews because they're so subjective. In the end, the factor that weighs most heavily in my decision to purchase a book from an unknown author, or an author who's let me down before, is a book's excerpt.



That said, I've learned over the years which reviewers enjoy the same kinds of books I do, the ones who are annoyed by the same things in books that annoy me, and the ones whose idea of a quality book closely aligns with mine, and I read their reviews on a regular basis. More often than not, I wind up buying (and usually enjoying) one of their recommendations that I may not have otherwise.



I've also learned which reviewers enjoy books I usually delete within seconds of reading and authors who grace my NEVER BUY AGAIN list, reviewers who don't seem to notice or care about the things that annoy me and/or can't give a lucid summary or an explanation of why they did or didn't enjoy a book...reviewers I feel wouldn't know a quality book if it descended to their laptop from a pillar of light accompanied by a heavenly chorus. If I see brags about great reviews for books I thought were utter garbage, I'll avoid that reviewer's website and completely ignore squees of great reviews from them.



Does that mean those reviewers are wrong, or they suck, or they should be banned from the internet (or sterilized and forced to listen to Slim Whitman albums for all eternity, as I believe hackers should be)? No, because some readers enjoy the books they recommend. Some readers look for the same things they do in books. Their taste simply doesn't coincide with mine, so if they happen to read and hate my one of my books, I probably won't even read the review because it will mean nothing to me. I'll just smile and say, "Thanks for reviewing my book!" because as a result of this review, more readers who might not otherwise have heard of me will know my name, and they might think my book sounds like something they'll enjoy.



I will read reviews of my books from reviewers I trust, and I may or may not take their comments to heart. We all have personal hot-button issues, and I've noticed that many of my worst reviews arise from such issues. My heroes tend to be emotionally stunted, dominant alpha-males, and my heroines display their strength in less kick-ass ways than some readers would like, and so reviewers may perceive my heroes as assholes and my heroines as doormats. I can totally live with that, and I love it--seriously LOVE it--when reviewers actually say that. It steers readers who enjoy those character types, that relationship dynamic, toward my book and readers who hate it away from my books. I don't want readers to buy my book expecting one thing and getting another.



Which brings me back around to my point: When a reviewer doesn't enjoy your book and takes the time and trouble to write a detailed review of exactly why she didn't like it, remember--as with the Egg McMuffin, it's just a matter of taste. A bad review is nothing personal, and if you turn around and make it personal by going batshit in a very public way, the only one who looks bad is you.



After all, there are worse things than writing the Egg McMuffin of books.