As I write this, an ebook publisher and I are swapping
emails about my thrillers. The signs are good, since:
a) They like my first book.
b) They wanted to look at all the feedback and
reports for the first book.
c) They'd like to look at the second book.
d) They have a positive track record in the
genre.
e) They're especially interested in taking on a
series (and I'm writing book three, yay!).
This possible passport to publication, as well as
being a snub to those who said I couldn't do alliteration, has made me think
again about reviews.
Some interesting myths have grown up around online book reviews:
1. The first half dozen or so are usually by
friends or stablemates from the same publisher, and consequently ought to be
discounted.
2. There is a specific ratio (though not the golden ratio) of
good reviews to terrible ones that will give you a clear indication of whether
your book is really cutting the mustard.
3. A stinker or two, as well as contributing to the
unspecified specific ratio of reviews also shows you have written something so
distinctive that it polarises readers.
I recently came across an ebook that has done
fabulously well, and I use that word deliberately (unlike all the other times I've used it).
It has sales in the squllions (well, okay, many
thousands), driven by word-of-mouth and glowing reviews. It also has some
reviews that tell a different story - a tiny proportion of readers who,
clearly, got on the wrong book bus.
Here are some of the positive comments:
"The story line was unique."
"I'm very glad I took the chance."
"The characters are well developed."
By way of contrast here are some of the negative comments -
naturally, I've tried to pick out some funny ones:
"The heroin isn't likable at all." (Worthy of an honourable mention for the spelling alone.)
"I wanted to punch her in the face the whole time!"
"I guess sometimes you shouldn't buy a book based
on their reviews."
"Painful."
"I didn't like the fact that they were liberals."