Why I Write Reviews

I've written book reviews off and on for the last 33 years. My first book review was for a novel called "The Man Who Died Twice"by Samuel Peeples, a fictional account of the murder of Hollywood director William Desmond Taylor in the 1920s. It was published in the Houston (TX) Chronicle, and I still have the book (and the review, too, yellowing somewhere in a box in the basement). I wrote reviews for the Chronicle for about three years.

After moving to St. Louis, I contacted the book editor at the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, and he graciously signed me on as a reviewer. And this time I got paid -- $25 per published review. I did it for a few years, and then drifted away, only to pick it up again in the late 1980s. This time, I specialized in Hispanic literature in English translation, and I soon learned who the best translators were, what authors to look for, and the sheer volume of books in this particular area of publishing (the book editor sent me everything, including books he didn't want reviewed).

Since that time, I've done a few reviews of business books for college and profesional publications, but nothing really extensive or sustained.

Last fall, I started reading Christian fiction. Well, reading might be too weak a word. I started inhaling Christian fiction. I'd been working for two-plus years on my own fiction, and pointedly ignoring anything even close to what I was writing until I had the basic story down. Last November, I stopped in a Barnes & Noble, and bought six Christian novels. It was great fun, standing there and discovering this whole new world of books (new to me). A week later, I was in Phoenix for my son's wedding, and stopped by a Border's -- and bought four more. Read all 10 in about a month. Then I stopped by a local Christian bookstore in St. Louis, and bought eight more. Those were finished by the time I visited friends and family in New Orleans in February, so I checked out a local Christian bookstore there and bought a bunch more. You get the picture.

The authors I've been reading? Charles Martin. Dale Cramer. Nancy Moser. Chris Fabry. Marlo Schalesky. Travis Thrasher. Mike Dellosso. Taylor Field. Elizabeth Musser. Jason Wright. Annette Smith. And a lot of others. Adam Blumer, at this very moment. My reading crosses a number of Christian genres -- contemporary, contemporary romance, women's fiction, suspense, horror and even one straight romance. While my reading was initially aimed at understanding the market(s) I might eventually be selling into, something else happened -- I rediscovered my love for reading and for books.

I've been posting reviews of some things I read on Amazon.com. Last month, I realized I had more to say than one review about what I was reading, and started this blog. I'm reading, and reviewing what I read, because I love books, I love the authors I'm discovering and I love great stories.

I've not written reviews of some things I've read because they're bad, or at least not good. But they're few and far between. Generally, most of what I read and review are at least good. Some are outstanding. And a few are spectacular.

I've written and published one review that I debated long and hard over. The book was well written, extremely well written. The story was more than intriguing (and somewhat controversial). The characterization was excellent. The only problem -- the novel was incomplete. It's part of a series -- and what I didn't know or understand was that the story would be told over the course of several books. So a lot of stuff was left hanging at the end of the first book. Like virtually everything. And my disappointment was profound. The writing and the story were just too good to do this to the reader.

My internal debate was whether to write a review or not. What I would have to say would not be considered positive. I suspected that this story reflected the author's personal experience or that of someone close, and whatever I said would likely be taken personally. And if anything, this was a writer I'd want to encourage to write more. A lot more. So perhaps I should have just stuck the novel on a bookshelf and forgotten about it.

I finally decided to write the review. And it was because I'm a reader first, and a writer second. And the reader was disappointed.

Since I published the review, I've learned that I seriously hurt the writer's feelings. I regret that enormously. I understand what this business is like, and how much of it can be summarized by one word -- rejection. Rejection by agents, by publishers, by editors, by readers and by reviewers. Whether it's Christian or secular, rejection is still rejection. I know what it is, because I've experienced it.

But I didn't reject the author, or I thought I didn't. I loved the writing and the story. I found myself inside the main character's head, and becoming that character. That only happens when the writer is skilled and gifted. And this writer is all of that and more. The writer in me was cheering for that story. The reader in me was dumbfounded that I didn't get that story. It's like I rode up a very tall roller coaster, reached the top and expected the thrill of the ride, then the roller coaster evaporated and I was left sitting on the tracks.

I'm seriously grieved that I discouraged the writer. I considered taking the review down. But the reader in me said no.

I still grieve. But the reader still needs to speak.