Cheap Thrills Abound
Are there any writers out there that can name one single comparison to the unadulterated, guilt-free, Cloud-nine ecstasy that is an amazing review of your work?
Sure, you could name several things close to it. Maybe it’s your favorite snack food, or the relief of conquering a bad cold. Perhaps it’s an incredible night’s sleep, or catching a smokin’ hottie checking you out at Quiznos. The only problem is that a lot people are familiar with those things, writers or not. I know I am, and every one of those things have absolutely nothing to do with my writing.
I’ve tried to think of one. I have. But I can’t seem to find anything to parallel that unique kind of bliss, can you? When you get that high rating and those glorious words of recommendation – “oh yes, this writer is somebody, they’re going places, yes-sir-ree, they’ll be on the cover of Time magazine in six months, I’d put money on it…” – there’s nothing comparable, is there?
Now, you can argue that getting any kind of compliment from anyone is a wonderful thing, and indeed, it is. But there is a monumental difference in getting props from friends and family and getting them from complete, total strangers. When the compliments are concerning your work, your stories and your opinions, well, I’m going to be blunt here and speak for all writers everywhere – it’s utterly divine. That kind of nirvana should be illegal it’s so filthy and delicious.
And writers, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, either. You smile just thinking about that one glowing review…you know the one I mean…the one that made you feel like you were Jeremy Lin for a day. Or how about the review that brightened your whole month, the one that made you feel like your soul ate a whole bathtub of bonbons. Don’t those delectable words of praise make you feel dirty in a really, really good way? In a sense, don’t you feel like you stumbled upon a magical wellspring spewing Care Bear levels of mirth and merriment that no one else knows about? Isn’t it a thrill?
A cheap thrill? Because it is cheap, right?
Obviously, you couldn’t get the thrill yourself, completely on your own. That glowing review was a thrill that had to be passed on from one person to another, from reader to writer. Even if you ran to the store and picked up a pint of double chocolate mint, no one gave it to you, and you did all the work on your own (what little work there was in going to the store and getting your mitts on it).
Except, the thing of it is, you still had to work for that review, didn’t you? Who am I kidding? Especially with your flattering review, you had to work for it! You put a lot of time and effort in your novel, your short story, your published article, your blog. Whether it was a piece of flash fiction clocked in at under 1500 words or a 900 page Pynchon-sized tome, the effort you put forth didn’t come cheap, because it took time.
Pro Tip: other than oxygen and sleep, time is the most valuable thing we have. I firmly believe that. It’s not money or friends, or even love. Money comes and goes. Friends come and go. Love comes and goes. But every one of those can be cultivated with time. When you’re on your deathbed, knowing the end is nigh, what is it that we all want a little bit more of? Time. Time to right the wrongs, to do it differently, to do it over again, to be better than what we were, to be happier and to be more fulfilled.
The point I’m trying to make here, before I saunter off into a discussion of deathbed confessionals, is that even the smallest amount of time taken out to write that review gives the author a colossal thrill. Writers, wouldn’t you agree?
And in that same line of thinking, it’s cheap. If our time equated out to a monetary value, the couple of minutes it takes to rate and give a few kind words to the author, to be displayed for all to see, is really fractions of pennies. You already invested the time and focus and brain juice on the story, why not go the extra mile and throw some stars their way (as long as they’re not ninja stars). I promise you, they will really appreciate it and will probably praise you right back for being such an incredible human being. And honestly, since we’re talking about it, don’t YOU feel good, too, after giving a kind, meaningful compliment? It means so much to authors, even if it’s just a couple of sentences: “Good job on the character development!” “That was a great idea to make the secondary characters fall in love!” “I pee’d myself with unabashed glee when the group of rabid mutant narwhals ate the bad guy!” There’s a certain we’re-all-in-it-together aura about such a deed, isn’t there?
And when you’re on your deathbed, reflecting on what you’ve done and the cheap thrills you experienced in life (not that you would necessarily be thinking about ice cream in those final moments, but who knows, maybe you would), you may not feel like you made a difference, but you did. You made a difference in that author’s life and career. You can take that to the bank. What did Willy Wonka say just after little Charlie Bucket returned the tiny nugget of Everlasting Gobstopper? “So shines a good deed in a weary world.”
Indeed.
Sure, you could name several things close to it. Maybe it’s your favorite snack food, or the relief of conquering a bad cold. Perhaps it’s an incredible night’s sleep, or catching a smokin’ hottie checking you out at Quiznos. The only problem is that a lot people are familiar with those things, writers or not. I know I am, and every one of those things have absolutely nothing to do with my writing.
I’ve tried to think of one. I have. But I can’t seem to find anything to parallel that unique kind of bliss, can you? When you get that high rating and those glorious words of recommendation – “oh yes, this writer is somebody, they’re going places, yes-sir-ree, they’ll be on the cover of Time magazine in six months, I’d put money on it…” – there’s nothing comparable, is there?
Now, you can argue that getting any kind of compliment from anyone is a wonderful thing, and indeed, it is. But there is a monumental difference in getting props from friends and family and getting them from complete, total strangers. When the compliments are concerning your work, your stories and your opinions, well, I’m going to be blunt here and speak for all writers everywhere – it’s utterly divine. That kind of nirvana should be illegal it’s so filthy and delicious.
And writers, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, either. You smile just thinking about that one glowing review…you know the one I mean…the one that made you feel like you were Jeremy Lin for a day. Or how about the review that brightened your whole month, the one that made you feel like your soul ate a whole bathtub of bonbons. Don’t those delectable words of praise make you feel dirty in a really, really good way? In a sense, don’t you feel like you stumbled upon a magical wellspring spewing Care Bear levels of mirth and merriment that no one else knows about? Isn’t it a thrill?
A cheap thrill? Because it is cheap, right?
Obviously, you couldn’t get the thrill yourself, completely on your own. That glowing review was a thrill that had to be passed on from one person to another, from reader to writer. Even if you ran to the store and picked up a pint of double chocolate mint, no one gave it to you, and you did all the work on your own (what little work there was in going to the store and getting your mitts on it).
Except, the thing of it is, you still had to work for that review, didn’t you? Who am I kidding? Especially with your flattering review, you had to work for it! You put a lot of time and effort in your novel, your short story, your published article, your blog. Whether it was a piece of flash fiction clocked in at under 1500 words or a 900 page Pynchon-sized tome, the effort you put forth didn’t come cheap, because it took time.
Pro Tip: other than oxygen and sleep, time is the most valuable thing we have. I firmly believe that. It’s not money or friends, or even love. Money comes and goes. Friends come and go. Love comes and goes. But every one of those can be cultivated with time. When you’re on your deathbed, knowing the end is nigh, what is it that we all want a little bit more of? Time. Time to right the wrongs, to do it differently, to do it over again, to be better than what we were, to be happier and to be more fulfilled.
The point I’m trying to make here, before I saunter off into a discussion of deathbed confessionals, is that even the smallest amount of time taken out to write that review gives the author a colossal thrill. Writers, wouldn’t you agree?
And in that same line of thinking, it’s cheap. If our time equated out to a monetary value, the couple of minutes it takes to rate and give a few kind words to the author, to be displayed for all to see, is really fractions of pennies. You already invested the time and focus and brain juice on the story, why not go the extra mile and throw some stars their way (as long as they’re not ninja stars). I promise you, they will really appreciate it and will probably praise you right back for being such an incredible human being. And honestly, since we’re talking about it, don’t YOU feel good, too, after giving a kind, meaningful compliment? It means so much to authors, even if it’s just a couple of sentences: “Good job on the character development!” “That was a great idea to make the secondary characters fall in love!” “I pee’d myself with unabashed glee when the group of rabid mutant narwhals ate the bad guy!” There’s a certain we’re-all-in-it-together aura about such a deed, isn’t there?
And when you’re on your deathbed, reflecting on what you’ve done and the cheap thrills you experienced in life (not that you would necessarily be thinking about ice cream in those final moments, but who knows, maybe you would), you may not feel like you made a difference, but you did. You made a difference in that author’s life and career. You can take that to the bank. What did Willy Wonka say just after little Charlie Bucket returned the tiny nugget of Everlasting Gobstopper? “So shines a good deed in a weary world.”
Indeed.
date
newest »
newest »
message 1:
by
Lichen
(last edited Mar 02, 2012 01:25PM)
(new)
Mar 02, 2012 01:21PM
The problem with a site like Goodreads is that there are people who have very little knowledge of writing or the technical aspects involved, and will give you a bad review or rating based soley upon their objections to the storyline, which is terribly subjective. This can destroy the book's overall good rating and hurt sales. It is very frustrating. While honest reader feedback is invaluable to a writer, Goodreads sets up a situation where you have some very naive readers who fancy themselves as reviewers, take themselves way too seriously, and can quite literally hurt the writer's livelihood.
reply
|
flag
