My ‘Golden Rule’ of reviewing books
It can be like pulling teeth for a lesser-known author to rack up a few precious reviews, and since I can relate to that, I’m all in favor of helping other authors out. What I’m not going to do is rain on their parade with a negative Amazon review that brings down their rating. As my parents taught me: If you’ve got nothing good to say, sometimes it’s better to say nothing at all.
I don’t write a lot of book reviews for a couple of reasons: First off, I’m a very slow reader, and second, I spend most of my time researching and writing my own works. That said, when I do read another author’s book, I put a great deal of thought into any review I might write… and whether to leave a review at all.
In so doing, I’ve come up with my own personal policy regarding reviews on Amazon and elsewhere:
I don’t bother leaving Amazon reviews for established authors whose books already have thousands of reviews. There’s already enough information out there on those books for readers to make informed decisions about them. If I do want to state an opinion on these works, I’ll do so in my blog for my own followers to see.
That leaves books by lesser-known authors with only a few Amazon reviews. One thing I won’t do is leave a negative Amazon review about them. As an author with a limited number of reviews myself, I know how one bad rating or review can skew the overall star count. So, if I don’t like a book by an indie author, I won’t leave a review at all.
I understand that not all indie authors can afford the best editors, so I’m not going to add to their woes by pointing out every typo, grammatical error, or problem with sentence structure. If I spot a glaring problem, I might message the author privately and offer a suggestion about how to fix it. (One beauty of self-publishing via print-on-demand is that an author can make fixes on the fly, even after a book has been released.)
On the other hand, if I like a book by such a lesser-known author, I’ll make sure I DO leave an Amazon review highlighting the positive points of the book. I want to help out fellow authors as much as I can. But my reviews aren’t cheerleading or puffery: Whether they’re written for Amazon or my blog they’re all completely honest. I don’t write anything I don’t mean.
When it comes down to it, my reviews are as much for the authors as their readers—if not more so. It can be like pulling teeth for a lesser-known author to rack up a few precious reviews, and since I can relate to that, I’m all in favor of helping other authors out. What I’m not going to do is rain on their parade with a negative Amazon review that brings down their rating. As my parents taught me: If you’ve got nothing good to say, sometimes it’s better to say nothing at all.
It all comes down to this: When it comes to Amazon reviews, I follow a variation on the Golden Rule. I write about others as I would have them write about me.
“The Boyfriend” succeeds by transcending extreme horror
McCluskey is an indie author who helps disprove the false notion that one has to be traditionally published to write a strong, engaging story. If you have the stomach for extreme and graphic torture scenes, The Boyfriend is worth a read.
The Boyfriend doesn't fit neatly into any particular genre. That's a plus for me. I appreciate an author who’s willing to let the story take him along for the ride rather than trying to shoehorn it into a specific formula.
Some may read DE McCluskey's book for the extreme element of the story. Others may avoid it for the same reason. I don't fall into either category. I'm neither easily impressed nor offended by such scenes. What matters to me is whether they’re written merely for their own sake or in the service of the story. If the former, I won’t bother. “Splatter” or gross-out horror holds zero appeal for me. It often seems to be a case of authors engaging in a “can you top this?” contest over who can be the most disgusting. Plot and character development can suffer as a result.
Not here. In The Boyfriend, the torture scenes are integral to the plot. The two main ones were overly long for my taste, but I understand why. This is a tale about revenge (no spoiler here: the author states as much in his blurb). McCluskey juxtaposes the scenes to provide extreme motivation for an extreme response. It makes the characters more relatable (or hateable, as the case may be) and draws the reader in.
Apart from these scenes, the novel moves briskly after providing a strong setup. The first part almost reads like a YA novel, while the latter part reads more like a spy thriller, which I enjoyed.
The setting is interesting in that it’s never explicitly stated. The first part of the book almost seems like it’s set in the 1950s, with teens hanging out at a “milk bar” (malt shop) and using old-fashioned slang. But the presence of cellphones and other tech suggests a modern setting. I’m not sure whether the author did this deliberately to create a contrast between innocence and the forcible taking of it. I’d like to think he did, though, because it’s an effective strategy. The torture and sexual brutality depicted here are graphic and detailed, definitely not for the faint of heart.
The Boyfriend isn’t perfect. The twist is a good one, but I had it figured out early on. Still, it’s hard to hit the sweet spot between predictability and non sequitur, and the author deserves credit for including a solid twist in the tale.
The characters seem somewhat too resilient (healing more quickly than I would have expected) and, in one case, defiant than seemed likely given the amount of torture they endured. And one of them in particular seemed almost impossibly gullible at times, but I have learned not to underestimate the human capacity for gullibility. But these are minor quibbles. Good storytelling covers a multitude of sins, and the sins here are few and minor, while the storytelling is first-rate.
McCluskey is an indie author who helps disprove the false notion that one has to be traditionally published to write a strong, engaging story. If you have the stomach for extreme and graphic torture scenes, The Boyfriend is worth a read.
Note: McCluskey deserves props for showing the versatility to write more than one kind of book. He also puts out children’s stories as Dave McCluskey, using a slightly different name to avoid having kids stumble upon his more graphic works. You can find his books on Amazon or on his website, Dammaged Productions.
Review by Stephen H. Provost, co-author of the Nightmare’s Eve series of horror short stories and publisher of Dragon Crown Books.
Authors are too eager to exchange sales, profits for this
We authors have an Achilles’ heel that keeps us from generating the kind of profits we could. We often settle for a lesser substitute for sales. Why? Because our peers’ expectations, scammers, and our own ingrained ideas about the industry are all conspiring against us encourage it.
“A traditional publisher just offered me a contract!”
“I got contacted by a marketer who says he can make me a bestseller!”
“Wow! I got a five-star review!”
“Hey, I just won a literary award!”
Authors love being recognized, and they hate it when they aren’t. It’s a jungle out there in the publishing world, and the market—especially for novels—is saturated with titles. A lot of good writers never get the recognition they deserve, which makes them (understandably) eager for approval.
That eagerness, which too often morphs into desperation, makes them primed for exploitation by scammers. Some offer worthless marketing “help,” while others are vanity publishers posing as traditional houses. If you pay someone thousands of dollars to publish your book, they’ll be the one making money.
If you’re publishing a memoir or autobiography, chances are you won’t attract much interest beyond your immediate circle. The only folks who make money off memoirs are celebrities, political figures, and (if they’re very lucky) people with unusual humorous or fascinating stories. So if you’re looking for a gift to offer family and friends, you may be OK with a vanity publisher, but don’t expect to recoup your costs. It’s just not a moneymaking proposition.
A matter of vanity
There’s a reason they call them “vanity” publishers: They appeal to authors’ egos, which is, in my opinion, our Achilles’ heel. Even if we want to make money, we can be talked into taking recognition as a substitute—even if it does little or nothing to generate sales and may even distract us from taking steps that actually will.
It doesn’t help that most authors have been conditioned to believe that a traditional publishing deal is the gold standard when it comes to getting your work out there. It’s been drilled into our heads to such an extent that many authors refuse to accept anything less. They’ll go through a thousand query letters and submissions that end in rejection as they chase the dangled carrot of “acceptance” by an agent or publisher.
Such acceptance is, of course, no guarantee of sales or financial success. An agent may agree to represent you, then put you on the back burner. Even if they do work actively to find your book a home, there’s no assurance that they’ll be able to do so. If they do, will they find a publisher willing to put effort and energy into developing, releasing, and promoting your book? If you go through this process, you might end up waiting around years for your work to see the light of day. And when it does, you’ll have to do much of the promotion yourself… all for royalties that are far less than what you’d have earned publishing it yourself.
But many authors are so eager for acceptance—that seal of approval that comes with a traditional publishing contract—that they’ll overlook all that in the quest for what they see as the Holy Grail.
This is not to say that traditional publishing is all bad. If you’re offered a good deal with a Big Five publisher, by all means, take it. And if you land an agent with a reputation for placing authors with major houses, I wouldn’t turn that down either. But there are more than 1,000 literary agents and more than 3,000 publishers in the United States, some good and others… well, not so much. The problem comes when you get too excited about any old agent or any old publisher sniffing around and showing interest, as though merely “having an agent” or “having a publisher” means you’ve made it.
It doesn’t.
The same thing goes for reviews and awards.
Overrated accolades
Reviews are notoriously hard to come by, and authors can easily get pulled down the rabbit hole chasing them. But although they can be helpful (15 percent of readers listed them as their biggest consideration in a 2020 survey), reviews by themselves don’t mean you’ll have huge sales, and if you shell out a ton of money on book blog tours, Kirkus reviews, and the like, you might wind up getting an ego boost… but losing money in the process.
Reviews aren’t nearly as important as a knockout cover or word-of-mouth recommendation. And readers would rather decide for themselves whether a book is worth buying: They’re more influenced by reading a preview or “Look Inside” segment than by anything reviewers might say.
Then there’s the downside to reviews: Unless you have a very thick skin (and I encourage you to develop one) negative reviews, like rejection letters, will dampen your motivation. You’re likely begin doubting yourself and write less; this loss of confidence and productivity will probably hurt your sales as much or more than any positive reviews would have boosted them.
More than 8 in 10 awards contests carry an entrance fee, with the average being around $89. Of course (if the contest is reputable), paying your money doesn’t guarantee you’ll win—and since most entries don’t, it’s not a very good return on your investment.
But say you do win. You might receive a small cash prize or a trophy, and a few major awards (Pulitzer, Nobel, Newberry, etc.) will boost your sales significantly. Sure, if you’ve won an award at any level, you can use that as a marketing tool and even slap a cool sticker on the front of your book. But if readers have never heard of the award you won, they’re unlikely to care.
That 2020 survey referred to above found that genre was the most important consideration for roughly 4 in 10 readers, followed by familiarity with the author at 23.2 percent. Where did awards fall? They’re not even on the list. Another survey, conducted a few years earlier, didn’t include genre but asked readers to rank a range of factors as “extremely” or “very” important. The top answer was author familiarity, followed by the book cover, a personal recommendation, and the book description—all at 35 percent or higher. Of the 15 factors listed, literary awards ranked at the bottom of the list at less than 1 percent.
In 2016, Glenna Collett asked authors whether contests were worthwhile and received an interesting response:
“We asked several book award winners whether they thought entering contests was worthwhile. Most agreed that they noticed no increase in sales (emphasis mine). However, it was unanimous that the awards reception, the medal, and the ability to put a sticker on their book was worth the entry fee, but not more.”
In listing the benefits of entering contests, you can probably guess what topped Collett’s list: ego.
Ego vs. sales
But ego and sales are two entirely different things. Sales are quantifiable, which means you can measure whether various steps you take influence your success. If someone offers you a marketing program, representation, or a publishing contract, you can investigate whether that marketer, agent, or publisher has been successful boosting sales in the past.
Ego, by contrast, is not quantifiable. If you’re writing purely for the rush of getting noticed or receiving “attaboy” reviews, that makes you vulnerable to scammers and opportunists willing to exploit your desire for validation. If that’s what you’re looking for as a writer, and you’re willing to spend money to achieve it, that’s fine. But if you want to make money, ego is your enemy.
In fact, it may be the biggest enemy an author faces.
Stephen H. Provost is the author of more than 50 books, both independently and traditionally published. He is the publisher of Dragon Crown Books and founder of the ACES of Northern Nevada online book hub.
ACES Anthology 2024 open to submissions
We are pleased to announce we are opening up to submissions for The ACES Anthology 2024. Submissions are due September 30, with the target date for publication November 1. Submissions may be in any genre of fiction and are limited to Northern Nevada writers.
We are pleased to announce we are opening up to submissions for The ACES Anthology 2024. Submission guidelines are listed below.
Submission Guidelines
To avoid any suggestion of favoritism, we are accepting submissions on a first-come, first-served basis (with priority given to unpublished stories). We can't pay participants, but we'll be providing Stephen H. Provost's services as an editor and publisher free of charge. Participants will be able to order as many print copies as they want at my cost to give away or sell at your events, and any money made on Amazon will go toward the cost of maintaining the ACES website and any future ACES activities.
Short-story submissions will also be considered for the 2024 ACES High Award. Carson City author Michael K. Falciani (pictured) won the 2023 award, as determined by a panel of judges, for his short story “Shadow’s Edge.”
The target date for publication is November 1, 2024. The following parameters will be used in selecting stories for this volume:
Submissions are limited to authors participating in the ACES website initiative. (It's free to participate in ACES, which is open to all Northern Nevada writers.)
Stories submitted for this volume may be of any genre, except erotica.
Poetry may also be submitted, but will not be eligible for the ACES High Award.
Material expressly or implicitly advocating for violence or discrimination will not be considered. (Characters within stories may exhibit these behaviors/attitudes).
Stories should be between 1,000 and 8,000 words in length. The length of the completed volume will not exceed 90,000 words. Additional material beyond this limit and material submitted after the deadline may be considered for future volumes.
Submissions may be unpublished or previously published works. Any previously published works should have been either independently published or accompanied by a release from the original publisher authorizing its publication elsewhere. Previously unpublished works will be identified as such in the volume. Excerpts from longer works, such as a chapter from a book, will be considered IF they can stand on their own.
The deadline for submissions is September 30, 2024.
About the anthology
The volume will be published by Dragon Crown Books and will be edited and formatted by the Dragon Crown Books staff: publisher Stephen H. Provost and Chief Operating Officer Sharon Marie Provost.
Each item, when published, will be accompanied by a two-sentence bio on the author.
Each contributor will receive one free copy of the book and will be entitled to as many copies as requested at the publisher’s cost (printing plus shipping).
Any proceeds from Amazon sales of the book will go directly to the ACES initiative, specifically toward the annual cost of maintaining the website (currently $190) and website address (currently $24), and toward the cost of any ACES events, such as book signings, author fairs, etc.
Submissions should be sent via email to sharon.dragoncrown@gmail.com or the ACES website contact page: https://www.acesofnorthernnevada.com/new-page, with “Anthology submission” in the subject line.
Authors retain all rights to republish stories in the future in whatever form they see fit.