Yesterday I received my first 2.5 star review for my cosy novel, Peril: The Legend of Sedrak. I knew it was coming. After all, even the most successful authors get negative reviews. In many ways the review was bittersweet. Even though the reader gave the book 2.5 stars, the actual review was not that negative. The reviewer mentioned that the book idea was unlike anything she had read before. She notes the character descriptions were spot on and the character development good. She even regarded it as a good read. So all in all not too bad. This, of course, is the mark of a good book reviewer—being able to not only see the good in a book, but also those things that don’t sit so well with them.
I thought I’d be shattered when I finally received a review lower than 3 stars. I had images of my fragile ego breaking into a million pieces. The funny thing is, it didn’t. I felt an initial pang of panic when I saw the star rating and briefly wondered how it would affect readers who considered reading the book, but after reading the review I felt strangely intact—like I was somehow a bit wiser.
Shortly after, I was fervently continuing with my new novel like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Had I gotten to a point where I trusted the quality and value of my own writing? Or perhaps, after years of writing I have finally come to understand that you can’t please everyone.
Much love to you all ❤