I’ve already addressed what a review looks and smells like in a previous post, but recently I’ve been coming across some ethical conundrums, hurt feelings and other assorted downers that ensnare new reviewers from time to time.

I wondered if maybe I hadn’t gotten too far ahead of myself: what if you’re just starting out and don’t know what to expect? You just signed up for a shiny new blog, you’re dutifully trying to post every day, you attract a few readers, wrangle a few free books.

And then what? I asked around, and in particular, I wanted to hear from experienced bloggers how they faced an empty screen, and what went into their reviewing process.

The people I e-mailed are from the organizing committee over at Cybils, or the Children’s and Young Adult Bloggers’ Literary Awards (http://blog.cybils.com) now underway. They all have solid credentials as bloggers, having been at this for at least a couple days.

Online reviewers’ unique issues

Their problems finding words to describe other people’s words certainly aren’t new, but there are some novel problems in our online instant-reaction land when the white-hot flames of irate fans are always a mere mouse-click away.

There’s also a profound difference in temperament and training. When print critics come under fire, they’re usually bolstered by editors with ice in their veins. Most bloggers only have their spouse’s shoulder to sob on.

And kidlit bloggers, who often come from the ranks of librarians and teachers, are by nature a helpful lot. They aim to please. Send them a few books and they’ll review them. Send them a ton of books and they’ll review those too. Overwhelm them with your entire frontlist, plus everybody else’s frontlist, and they’ll slog through the stack, panicking lest they overlook one.

This is not good for having a balanced life, or getting supper ready on time, or preserving what’s left of your eyesight (not to mention sanity).

Another huge problem seems to be staying original when many people have reviewed the same material, or when the publisher sends out press packets with concise, pithy summaries of the book already. Is that stuff fair game?

I asked what makes for good, basic reviewing habits:

“Keep the audience in mind”

Kelly Herold, Big A little a (http://kidslitinformation.blogspot.com/):

1. I always throw away publisher material. Always. I find it can cloud my judgment if it isn’t completely a waste of time, which it often is. I especially find publisher info on picture books annoying. Why do I want 2 pages of text on a book with fewer words? I don’t.

2. Keep the plot summary to one paragraph.

3. In my case, I like to keep my reviews to 3-5 paragraphs tops.

4. Always quote from the book if possible so readers can get an idea of the author’s style.

5. Keep audience in mind: who is the book for? age range?

6. Anne has taught me that if it is a picture book, you have to learn to think critically about the illustrations as well. This has not been easy for me, but I’m working on it.

Ending? Don’t mention it. No, really. Don’t.

Jackie Parker, Interactive Reader (http://interactivereader.blogspot.com/):

The only thing I look at on the publisher’s accompanying propaganda is the contact information for the publicist. Never know when that will come in handy...

I started to avoid reading jacket flaps or reviews past the first paragraph because I found they often gave way too much information away. My cardinal rule (I have many, but this one hasn’t been mentioned yet) is DON’T FREAKIN’ GIVE AWAY THE ENDING. I don’t know HOW many times I’ve heard people booktalk or whatever a book and give away way too much information. If you are going to have spoilers, say so. As a reader, I’m going to get really irritated if you don’t warn me. As a blogger librarian it’s just bad form. It seems like a no-brainer, but I still run into people who do it.

NEGATIVE REVIEWS: NOT THE ‘KISS OF DEATH.’

Sheila Ruth, Wands And Worlds (http://www.wandsandworlds.com/blog1/):

Just a comment about negative reviews from a publisher perspective. Most of the advice I’ve seen for publishers says that a negative review is still a good review (unless it totally trashes a book). It’s like the old saw that any publicity is good publicity. And a book on amazon with all five-star reviews is suspicious, whereas a book with a lot of reviews, some good, some bad, looks like a genuine thing. The martial arts book I published has mixed reviews from 2 to 5 stars (I’ve discovered that martial artists are very picky people) but it sells well anyway, and most of the sales come from Amazon. So a negative review on Amazon isn’t the kiss of death. I think *publishers* for the most part understand this, but many authors don’t. It’s naturally harder for them to be objective, because it’s their baby.

HAVE A WRITTEN REVIEW POLICY

Jen Robinson, Jen Robinson’s Book Page (http://jkrbooks.typepad.com/):

● Have a written review policy that you can refer to, in which you make clear whether or not you review everything that you receive, and that you don’t guarantee positive reviews. This helps to keep everyone’s expectations in line.

● If possible, notify the author and/or publisher when you do post a review, especially if it’s a mixed review. This increases your level of professionalism, and can help keep the author/publisher from feeling sand-bagged by running across a mixed review unexpectedly.

● If quoting from ARC or galley, make sure to specify that. This protects you and the publisher, should the final book differ from what you quoted. - Indicate the source from which you received the book, and be up-front about any particular ties that you might have with the author. I believe that being up-front about these sorts of things is the best guard against people who question one’s objectivity.

HAVE A BIT OF A THICK SKIN

Liz Burns, A Chair, A Fireplace and a Tea Cozy (http://yzocaet.blogspot.com/):

● Have a bit of a thick skin; yes, easier said than done. But, if we say authors should have a thick skin, we, as writers, should have a thick skin also when someone disagrees with our reviews.

● You won’t convince the author that you’re right; chances are, the author won’t convince you that you’re wrong. (but, if you made a mistake ... That’s another thing entirely. If your review said, “what an odd action for an 12 year old orphan” and the author says, “interesting, except it’s an 10 year old and the parents are divorced,” own your mistake. Even if the change is now, “what an odd action for a 10 year old whose parents are divorced.”)

● Galleys and arcs do change before publication. If you don’t like something based on a galley or arc, you owe it to the author and to your readers to wait for the real book because it is very possible that what you didn’t like was fixed.

AVOID SNARK ATTACKS

Sarah Stevenson, Finding Wonderland (http://writingya.blogspot.com/):

Personally, I think that there’s never a bad time for diplomacy and tact in a review, positive or negative. I learned that very early on when I used to write a weird websites column and I made a snarky comment about a site I wrote up...and they wrote back to me saying they were sorry I thought their site could use improvement but they had a limited budget (it was a site at a university, for a robot arm you could move via the web) and that was all they could do given their means...and I felt soooo bad.

A FEW LAST WORDS

There’s always more advice to give on getting started in book blogging and reviewing. In fact, the most recent Kidlit Blog Carnival was about precisely that compiled by the witty Pam Coughlin at MotherReader (http://www.motherreader.com/2007/11/november-carnival-of-children.html).

There’s plenty there from around the blogosphere.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t add my own $.02 to the discussion. I second everything already said rely on your own voice and not the publisher’s, value diplomacy but be firm and would add a few things I learned the hard way:

Don’t blog your way to a stronger eyeglass prescription (I’ve upped mine three times since starting book buds). It’s very expensive to go blind.

You can ignore all other chores but supper. You family shouldn’t starve for food or your company, even if they must climb over piles of laundry to dine with you.

● If snark is important to you, develop a style that’s at least clever. Try metaphor, exaggeration, new turns of phrase--anything but plain bitchiness, which is so overdone as to be entirely predictable. If I can finish your mean, foul sentence for you, you’re boring me.

● Take advantage of automatic posting, if your blog host has that lifesaving feature. I write all my reviews on Saturdays and let the nice folks at TypePad do the rest. I then resume my regularly scheduled life.

● Get a life. Eat moderately and exercise often. Stop smoking. Be nice to small animals and old people. Say your prayers. Remember that you’re human and not an extension of your keyboard. Of course, I’m terrible about all of the above, so do as I say and not as I do ...

I’ve been thrilled at this opportunity to blog for ForeWord, and am sorry my month ended after the traditional four weeks. I was hoping we could stretch November out until, oh, Memorial Day at least.

I wish you all happy reviewing and/or blogging, and a very Happy Holidays.

Posted by: Anne Boles Levy

Try telling a roomful of ardent book lovers that they’re writing reviews all wrong. I’d never given a presentation – ever – yet I had to wean my favorite kidlit bloggers from thinking that reviewing is all about their opinions.

It isn’t. Nor is it necessarily even about individual authors or books.

No, it's about what former Los Angeles Times book review editor Steve Wasserman called "a cultural conversation of critical importance."

I took it to mean that no book exists in a vacuum. It’s part of a genre or it breaks from it; it’s typical of the author’s work or it’s a departure; it’s of the moment or reminiscent of another era. It has its hyper-specific niche or is part of a  movement. There’s always a larger something or other to say about it, and a reviewer’s job is to pin that something, as nebulous and slippery as a jellyfish, to the wall.

I decided to wallop the kidlitosphere with the particulars of this “cultural conversation” at a first-ever conference in early October. Librarians, booksellers, authors and the similarly obsessed emerged from their virtual worlds into the real one for one day in a conference room at a Radisson hotel in Chicago, the  tables arranged so we all faced one another, who’d been avoiding the light of day like those tube worms at the ocean’s bottom, pale and shy and blinking uncertainly. 

When my turn came, I scrambled beneath my table to the center well and faced the writers I admired enough to reprimand.

The review genre

Of course, all these people are ridiculously nice or they'd be blogging about politics or law or other grouchy topics. So I had nothing to fear, right? Except that I was there to tell them that the fun can't go on forever. That to write at a professional level means understanding that reviewing is a genre, with its own tropes and quirks and readers' implicit expectations.

Function follows form in reviewing, and I’ve adopted the mission of teaching those forms to whoever will sit still long enough. It's anathema even to nice bloggers, however, who are accustomed to the freewheeling, unedited, unexpurgated Express Yourself theme park that’s become the blogosphere. It’s tough to be told there are forms to follow, and they make sense, and the wheel doesn't need constant reinventing.

Plus, there was no getting around the fact that my 12-page handout did not fit neatly into the allotted 50 minutes, after I had prepared for a 90-minute workshop.

I raced through the material and there were many salient points that I had to skim or drop altogether. People were slow to get started, perhaps lulled by the easygoing nature of other presentations. Mine was high key, and I think many were startled at the size of the handout and the announcement that there would an editing exercise.

Where we are now

I began with an overview of the print vs. blog reviewers animosity. I stated flatly that print reviewers are gatekeepers, with an impulse to keep the barbarian hordes (that’s us) at bay out of self-preservation.

And one look around the book blogging world does indeed reveal a gap in skills, to put it gently. But the gates to the castle are easily opened; by knowing what a good, meaty book review looks like, you can join that cultural conversation Mr. Wasserman asserts in his excellent, if somewhat bitter personal essay on the subject of reviewing. 

Everything else, to me, is book chatter – also valuable, of course, but it doesn't employ the same analytical thinking or provide the same depth of insight.

Forms vs. Formulas

Before I could launch into the forms of book reviewing, I reminded people that forms aren't formulas. I used a shopping analogy (payback for all those overused sports analogies – I'm not much of a "team player" and I never "hit one out of the park"):

This isn't like going into a department store looking for size-12 sportswear and all you find are size-8 cocktail dresses. This isn't about one-size fits all.

Switching metaphors (you can do this when you're talking a mile a minute), I said imagine the structured review as a dinner plate. Just because everyone uses a dinner plate doesn't mean we're all eating the same meal. What you prepare and how you present it are entirely your own.

Having an Ideal Reader

I spent only a brief time asking bloggers to consider not just readers who routinely visit their blogs, since writing for this immediate circle eventually becomes limiting and self-referential.

You unwittingly erect your own gates, admitting only those who "get" you and your stylistic quirks. To reach a broader audience, you have to imagine who they should be.

I never imagined that Book Buds would draw so many librarians, and while I love every one of them, my ideal reader is still the lost parent in the bookstore, afraid to venture beyond what they loved from their own childhoods into the wilderness of all those new titles. I always write for that parent, imagining him or her anew each time.

The Three Forms of Book Reviewing

I taught that book reviewing – or really, any kind of reviewing – breaks down into three forms based on length: capsule reviews, mid-length or daily reviews (so called because they appear in the daily sections of newspapers instead of Sunday) and long-form essays topped by a billboard (explanation below).

We spent the most time on capsule reviews, because we find it most often on blogs and it offers the easiest opportunities for freelancing. It's also a pain to get it right, and therefore the most flagrantly abused.

My advice: write tight, eschew too much plot rehash, have a distinct perspective, be authoritative.

I had people edit a short, highly critical review of a Hanukkah book that had been sent to me by a writer looking for editing advice. I was surprised when many people (authors all) stalled on the idea that the writer would even bother with a negative review.

Many authors simply couldn't emotionally grapple with the reality of negative book reviews, of their being a vital part of that "cultural conversation."

Daily Reviews

We moved on to the dailies, which I insisted must have two characteristics: thematic consistency and brisk writing.

My advice:

Simply listing all your likes and dislikes doesn't make for a review, even if you think you're being thorough. Especially if you think you're being thorough!

Ruminate on the book as deeply as time allows. Where does it fit in its genre? Or into the author's body of work? Or in pop culture? If there's one notion in your head that shines brighter, there's your theme, which acts as a thread to pull readers through to the end.

Organize all your quotes, plot details and exposition around that ONE theme. That's all there's room to do in a daily. As with capsule reviews, keep plot rehash to a minimum. Weave in only those details that make sense for the theme you've chosen. If there are plot details that MUST be included that DON'T fit your theme, you may have the wrong theme.

The long form

The long-form essay deals not necessarily with one particular book -- unless it's a seminal work -- but with a writer's career, or a trend or movement in literature, or it paints some much larger picture than is possible in the 500-800 words usually reserved for dailies.

I didn't get to say this, but the long form can go very long -- up to 25,000 words or so, after which it's time to get a book contract!

To keep it manageable, the long form features what's known as a "billboard," basically a signal of what's to come. Its two characteristics are the anecdotal lead of 1 or 2 extremely large paragraphs or 3-6 shorter paragraphs, plus what's called the "nut" paragraphs because they contain the kernel of your arguments.

The opening anecdote -- often but not always drawn from the subject's life -- ends in an "aha" moment when the reader finally learns why he or she's reading this.

That's when biography stops and the hard work of laying out your themes begins. A longer piece needs more than one theme, and EVERY SENTENCE in the nut graphs lays out a different theme, each subsequent sentence building on the one before.

I used an excerpt from a recent piece on Jack Kerouac (his "On the Road" turns 60 soon) and quickly pointed out where we shifted into "nut" mode and labeled the anecdote as "A" followed by themes B, C, D and even E.

Throughout the piece -- indeed, every long piece -- writers will wheel through ABCDE (or however many letters) again and again. To put all the plot rehash or anecdotes or quotes (the "A" stuff) together would make little sense except as a book report; to put all paragraphs on theme B or theme C, etc., together gets wearisome. People like patterns and the mind absorbs them without effort.

If, each time you dip into the well for "A" matter, you then work it through each theme, you create a circular movement that propels readers along, always coming back to A again, and so forth. You build momentum.

(This is tough to explain without showing, but if you want to peek in at Book Forum, any Sunday book review section or the New York Review of Books, you'll find plenty of examples to dissect this way.)

Reactions

The reaction? Most people were gracious and approving. A few were shell-shocked at having to do actual thinking. But that’s exactly my point; jotting down newsy tidbits gleaned from press releases or rounding up links doesn’t require critical analysis. Dashing off comments isn’t a conversation. A thumbs-up, thumbs-down cursory reaction isn’t a review.

All those factoids and quips serve their purpose, but if we’re going to bury beleaguered book review sections, unwittingly or no, we ought not replace them solely with the printed version of a five-minute quickie. Just as a book still requires some luxuriating, even in our haste-addicted society, a sustained argument in a long essay is still a slow, deliberate seduction that engages the senses, lingers in the memory, and satisfies the spirit.

Posted by: Anne Boles Levy