Don't Kill Another Human (even with remarks)

I've noticed that writing anything without criticism is impossible these days. No matter the subject, someone will inevitably declare everything I believe is incorrect, or the grammar police will swoop in and highlight any violation of their sacred rules. I've read these comments on Twitter, Facebook, and in reviews of my books. Being bashed on social media is expected, so I rarely get into an electronic Donnybrook about something as trivial as the best decade (the 80s, of course). However, I wasn't prepared for the beatdown I received last year about my first novel.

I want to be clear; constructive criticism is essential for anyone to improve at whatever they are doing. Constructive is the operative word here. I can handle someone pointing out my mistakes or how I could have developed a plot differently. But the review in question wasn't meant to encourage improvement or specifically identify problem areas. No, the spirit of this love letter was JR Whitsell should be banned from all forms of written communication for life. As a bonus, the comment was accompanied by one star, the only time any of my books received less than three stars.

The review was more than critical; it was plain mean. The writer went out of her way to tear apart my sixty-thousand-plus-word novel with her seventy-three. Forget the fact I'd informed readers that my mother and I had proofread and edited the book, and grammatical errors were a certainty. I explained why this was so and apologized if the errors were distracting. Apparently, my honesty and humility weren't good enough for my new friend, who was out for blood. Though she never emailed me specifics, the reviewer declared my book was filled with grammatical errors. Even the review's title was venomous: "I wouldn't buy it, save your money."

It's been over a year since the review was posted, and I can honestly tell you I haven't given it much thought. I was checking my book's current sales rankings last week when I scrolled past the ugly-titled critique, prefaced by its single glowing star. Something caught my attention this time, so I manipulated my mouse wheel back up. I re-read the review title and let out an audible chuckle. You see, in anger and embarrassment, I had missed a glaring, beautiful irony. The mean-spirited bully who declared to the digital universe that my work was nothing more than a reference guide to poor grammar had left me a present. Her review's title—two independent clauses joined with a comma—is a grammatical error.