A room with review
To review or not to review, that is the question.
What someone likes to read is hella subjective. It’s why I always feel a little weird about doing reviews. I only bother to do a review if I really liked something or (more rarely) if I hated it so much I wanted to throw it into the fiery chasm of Mount Mordor. Mostly I do the things I like tho, because even if a book leaves me “meh” personally that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a “good” book.
The other day I reviewed a book titled Hatchet Job by Tamsin Everly. Which is fine, of course, but got me to thinking (always a dangerous event) why don’t I do more book reviews? God and all his little angels know I have read a million books I liked, and a hundred thousand I’ve really liked, and a thousand I adore, and of all those probably two dozen are written by author’s I know – at least on cyberspace. In fact, sometimes I review a book and an author becomes ensnared in my awesomeness and “friends” me. That just happened with Tamsin Everly, or as I will call her now – My Friend Tamsin Everly. I name drop like you wouldn’t even believe, people.
So why don’t I spend more time reviewing books and having authors I can name drop flock to me?
I think it’s because I need a “perfect storm” of circumstances to feel the urge to review a book. 1) I need to have finished the book within a 24 hours before I am writing a blog post. 2) I have to have either really liked or really loathed the book. 3) I have to be burned right the Fokk out on news and need something else to think about to prevent my head from exploding OR nothing that newsworthy is happening. 4) My kids didn’t do something so massively super cute that I think people not their parents will find it funny as well, so I cannot blog about that instead of news.
Only when all these circumstances are met does the urge to review come over me. Thus, my reviews are a scare occurrence.
Like an eclipse of the sun, but more cosmically important.
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