No, I won't give you a blurb. Here's why:

Sometime next month I'll sit down with The Cocktail Waitress, an unpublished novel by James M. Cain. Hard Case Crime's Charles Ardai, who's published many worthy novels (not a few of them mine), unearthed Cain's manuscript, edited it with his characteristic sensitivity, and will publish it this fall.

I expect to enjoy it. But, like it or not, I'm sure I'll give it a blurb.

It's been around fifteen years—maybe closer to twenty—since I stopped giving blurbs. I made the decision for a couple of reasons. First, I was getting more manuscripts and galleys than I could possibly have read, even if I did nothing else, even if I were a certified graduate of Evelyn Wood's speed-reading school. Giving blurbs, after all, is like feeding pigeons, and every time you say something nice about somebody's book, five more editors add you to their list of prospects, and ten more ARCs turn up in the mail.

Nor did I want to be stuck with the choice of saying something nice about a book I didn't care for or indicating my dislike of the thing to its editor or author. The only way to avoid that particular no-win situation is to steer clear of the whole business. Hence, no blurbs.

This is a stance many writers adopt sooner or later. A rush of blurbish generosity is a not uncommon response to success, and both Stephen King and Mario Puzo were at one point accused of never having met a book they didn't like. I never knew Mr. Puzo, so can't guess what he did or didn't read and did or didn't like, but I've had enough contact with Steve King to doubt he ever blurbed a book he didn't care for. He takes his responsibilities too seriously for that. But he's always been an avid reader, and his enthusiasms are considerable...

Click here to read the rest