What good is a review?

I have something to tell you Wearable “computers” are real!

What good is a review?

Virtually every how-to book or blog post I’ve ever read regarding self-published book promotions points to reviews as a “must have.”

Potential readers, they say, look at reviews as part of their decision-making process.

And those reviews better be overwhelmingly five stars, or those same potential readers will pass on your book for something else.

Now, on the surface, all of this might sound very logical and sound. Of course you’d want reviews. A review means, by and large, someone has not only taken the time to read your book, but were moved enough to write about it. Given the ratio of readers to reviews a given book can have, any review should be noteworthy. And if the book does get rated with five stars, well, that’s the ultimate.

Or is it?

Dig a little further, and you’ll find other books and blogs, perhaps by readers rather than authors, that deride the five star review, because they “can’t be trusted.”

I read someone’s take on reviews once that basically broke the five star review down into three categories: paid reviews, friend and family reviews, and reviews from fellow authors. In other words, not one single review was legit, because they either had money, kin, friendship, or some other ulterior motive for their existence.

If that is the pervading thought among readers, then five star reviews wouldn’t be all that great, now would they?

Then, throw into the mix something so taboo I cringe to even bring it up (okay, not really) : authors responding to a reviewer. Essentially, the unwritten rule goes like this: reviewer of unknown talent or intelligence can unload their vile ignorance on an author or book, but the author can’t respond at all. Even rationally. Even to ask questions or engage the reviewer in a more enlightened way.

To me, that’s an exercise in futility. Reviews are so important, some will say, that one bad review can sour the deal for 1,000 potential readers. Yet, we, as authors, can’t do anything to set the record straight? On the other hand, one bad review helps to bring balance to the force, and while idiotic or unimpressive itself, the author is supposed to either shrug it off with a “Meh,” or actually embrace it.

Sorry, but neither idea makes any sense to me.

When something makes no sense, I tend to wonder why. I start asking questions. Questions like, what if reviews aren’t the end all to everything? What if it doesn’t matter what people write there?

In this ever changing world of producers vs. consumers, I’ve got to believe that more and more of us can find ourselves on both ends of the spectrum. We might have a product out there we’re hoping to be a hit, and at the same time, consuming someone else’s product. And, as such, we’re bound to have our own opinions about other people’s work.

But does that mean the author, or the potential reader, should put much stock in what we think?

As time goes on, the more I wonder. We’re in a society now where anyone, regardless of who they are or what they know, can praise or pan anything, in 140 characters or less, for crying out loud. They can cause Twitterstorms and Facebook wars and Pinterest battles (I think I made that one up) at the click of a button.

So what? Does it truly mean anything?

Here’s a recent case in point. I’ll be the first to admit, Ben Affleck as Batman doesn’t send shivers of excitement through me. Whoopee-do. But will I not go see the movie just because of him? Probably not. If anything, I’ve got more curiosity now to see if he can pull it off than I would have if the actor picked had been universally accepted. I’ll warrant a guess that all of the snarky commenters in social media will be watching the movie, too. And with expectations so low among them, Affleck will have to be really bad or most people will think the movie was better than they hoped for.

Just because we all have an opinion, doesn’t mean it’s right, or that it should affect the opinions of millions of others. Ultimately, people have to experience and find out for themselves.

That’s why, for me, the few free chapters Amazon and others offer of the book are much more valuable than a hundred reviews. I get more out of reading those than any other thing. I don’t know the reviewers, so how can I trust their judgment, one way or another? But I do know what I like to read, and if the book can’t capture me in three chapters, then I’m probably not going to read it.

Okay. I can’t say ALL reviews are meaningless. There are some people who do take the time to think things through and explain their reasoning. Those kinds of reviews, five star or one star, do add value.

But can I really put much stock in them, as author or reader, if they’re largely off-the-cuff remarks? Should I expect anyone else to, either? I hope not.

I and the editor didn’t just spend eight months to a year of our lives writing, editing and revamping a book, doing all that is humanly possible to eradicate spelling and grammar errors, to provide a coherent, entertaining and thought provoking story, just to have someone come along and within a few hours or days determine the book’s fate.

I’d rather readers rely on the merits of my own writing, thank you very much, then the writing of a stranger. Why bother, if one or two reviews can trash it? If the reader cares about their money at all, too, that’s the way they’ll ultimately base their decision. Read the sample chapters. Reviews are a dime a dozen. Good clean prose with a good hook is getting harder and harder to find.

And so are blog posts about this topic, for that matter.