I recently read an article in the Guardian that was so wild, so novelesque, that I thought it would make the perfect writing prompt.
Photo by Rick and Brenda Beerhoost (creative commons). Adapted by The Write Practice.
Here's the article for your reference, ‘Am I being catfished?' An author confronts her number one online critic, but I'll include a quick summary below to help you get into the story.
Also, here's a different perspective on the story, The Choices of Kathleen Hale.
I'm looking forward to seeing what you do with it!
Cyberbullying or Stalking?
Here's the gist of the story:
When a first-time author is “cyberbullied” on Goodreads by a book reviewer with a reputation for hurting authors' reputations, she becomes obsessed with finding out the reviewers true identity.
While the book reviewer continues to harass the author, the author closes in on the identity of the reviewer, finally finding the “cyberbully's” address and phone number.
The author confronts the book reviewer, first by trying to visit her at her home and then speaking to her over the phone. After the confrontation, the reviewer stops harassing the author and all but disappears from the online reviewing community.
What do you think about what this author did? Was this a case of a (really) Badly Behaving Author (BBA)? Or a badly behaving, cyberbullying book reviewer? Check out the full story, the alternative perspective, and share your thoughts in the comments.
PRACTICE
Write about an author who is attacked by a book reviewer and then proceeds to stalk his or her number one critic.
Write for fifteen minutes. When your time is up, post your practice in the comments section. And if you post, please be sure to leave some feedback for a few of your fellow authors.
Happy writing!
No, the author should not have stalked the hater. As writers, we know and expect that there will always be someone who doesn’t like or doesn’t want to hear what we have to say. I only have one piece of advice for this author, or any author that wants to go to these extremes: let it go! We can’t take everything personally. Sure the hater shouldn’t have sworn and talked trash like she did, but the author shouldn’t have turned into a stalker.
Good perspective. Thanks 709. 🙂
After reading Hale’s account, and the differing perspective, I am mulling over the subject. First and foremost, cyber bullying is real, it happens frequently, and there have been several well-publicized incidents of young people committing suicide after being bullied online. Dangerous individuals who stalk and victimize others have also used the internet to continue terrorizing their targets. My remarks are going to be specific to authors, reviews, online critiques and survival strategies, and I emphasize up front, my comments regarding these specifically defined matters in no way are meant to trivialize cyber bullying and internet stalking.
It must have been terribly traumatic for Hale, a newly published author, to find her work slammed and dismissed by a reviewer. As the story unfolds, it does become unclear who victimized who. Remember that famous saying by Mark Twain, “Never argue with a fool, onlookers may not be able to tell the difference”? I think the same might be true in this case. Hale wants to make the case that she was bullied, but then her reaction appears to constitute stalking and bullying too. We only have Hale’s account, we don’t know all the facts, other than that both the reviewer and the author behaved badly.
I would like to proceed without making a case for who was right or wrong, or any combination of the above. Forget right/wrong for a moment. Let’s think about this as authors; all of us share this potential development, that we put our work out there, and are then publicly excoriated for it. I would rather discuss strategies, what might work and what would not work, if one of us must grapple with this situation.
I do feel Hale chose the wrong strategy. She was warned repeatedly to NOT ENGAGE. But she insisted on doing so, and ultimately, though she may have gotten the reviewer to back off a bit, she achieved no real satisfaction. I do admire her honesty in writing about the experience, revealing her personal foibles without apology. I think she has done us all a service in showing that, when we are advised to not engage, there is a good reason for that.
I don’t know what the answer is, as I am not published. Also, several questions are left unanswered. Did Hale have no choice in having her book reviewed on goodreads.com? Did amazon.com place that contingency on sales of the book on their site, that the book be available for review on goodreads.com? If so, was that an exclusive, as in, was she barred from also posting her work for review on a more moderated and structured site, such as Critique Circle?
Perhaps more people here will have some helpful suggestions on strategies for coping with horrible, possibly unfair or even untrue, reviews. It is easy for some to say, hey, you are not your book. You are separate, and if someone slams your book, they are not slamming you. Oh horse puckey (as good old Col. Potter would say on M*A*S*H*). If I write a book, and the reviewer starts off with “Fuck this!”, I’m crushed, ok? And I do not think I am unique in that regard.
It is NOT helpful to tell authors that their natural response is not appropriate, and we should not have it, as some of the debaters claim in the alternate perspective. It is perfectly natural to be hurt, doubt oneself, and feel persecuted when hammered with negativity and blunt rejection. That is why shunning was such an effective social control mechanism in some societies.
We need to accept that this crappy stuff will happen, and then we will feel crappy about it. And then how do we deal with that? I really don’t know what I would do.
Good points, Avril. The old adage–Two wrongs do not make a right–could be applied here.
Adelaide
Agreed
I agree with Adelaide. Great points here, Avril. And I love that quote from Mark Twain.
As far as strategies, and I’m open to your perspective on this, I honestly don’t believe in shunning or not engaging. I don’t believe in arguing either, but I think having an open, non-defensive conversation with a critic can be extremely helpful for authors. There’s an idea out there that reviews are for readers, not authors, but I think that doesn’t help authors or critics. Authors can’t get feedback and learn from reviews? My strategy is to engage, apologize, fix things if you can, don’t be defensive, grieve if you have to, and then, move on.
Thank you Joe. It sounds like an author, once having released a piece to the public, must accept that feedback will come in many forms, some possibly harsh. And those of us who can deal with that, and engage positively, can become better writers through addressing critical comments. Some “problems” really are all about perspective. Thank you for your insights.
Yes exactly, Avril. Well put.
I haven’t received any reviews from my story collection on Amazon Kindle, but if I had a negative review I would do nothing about it. Defending one’s work against a negative review only calls attention to that review. I once received a reject for a story with some sarcastic remarks from the editor. I thought of replying to her with my own sarcastic remarks, but didn’t. Getting back at the reviewer or editor only makes the writer sink to the level of the person who gave the review. Why cheapen yourself for a moment’s satisfaction, which only leaves you with regret afterwards?
Adelaide
That’s a good approach, Adelaide. It’s never fun to get negative reviews, but you’re right, sinking into the negativity just makes it worse.
Very true! I’m trying to develop a thicker skin, eating the “meat” and spitting out the “bones” of critical feedback.
The crisp morning air bit at her face as she strode into her favorite coffee shop to work on her latest novel. She had only ever been published online, but her newest work would hopefully change that.
As her laptop powered up, she couldn’t help but wonder if her critic had written anything new last night. About a week ago someone new made a splash in the online author’s world by posting a scathing review of her latest e-book. People were entitled to their opinions, but this critic went so far as to insinuate that she had persuaded the head of the publishing company in less than appropriate ways to publish her book. Somehow he hadn’t been banned from the community, since several days later another review popped up on one of her earlier works. It was just as bad, if not worse.
She only knew the critic by his screen name, “Aristotle’s Disciple”. Whatever that meant. She had yet to see his reviews on other author’s work, but she had no idea why she would be targeted like this- or who would do this.
There was a notification in the corner of her browser: You’ve Got Mail!
She clicked on it, and the review from Aristotle’s Disciple came in. The first line was all she needed to read: “Another brilliant work of garbage.”
Furious, she whipped out her phone and dialed her agent. This had to end.
Adelina sat petrified in her purple office chair. She didn’t
even flinch when Tyrion stretched in her lap and dug his claws in her thighs.
He instinctively braced himself to be picked up and placed, roughly, on the
hard wood floor but nothing. She didn’t move.
Her eyes were glazed over. She bit irritated at the absent
nail on her right index finger. The skin there was raw and pink and begging for
mercy; she showed it none. Moving back and forth, left to right, her eyes read
the offensive post over and over again.
Why does Adelina Santiago continually insist on poisoning our eyes with this bullshit she calls writing? My seven year old cousin could write a better story than she. Angels
and demons and vampires? Seriously!! Come up with something original or die.
You know what! In fact spare us your shitty work and just skip to the dying already. FUCK!
Adelina was no rookie of nasty reviews and comments on
social media. Just the other day some troll told her he wished her mom would have listened to the eight-ball and just gotten the abortion. The world would have been much better off. She ignored them constantly but for some reason the direct request of Goodreads user anony69697 bore deep to a place she had hidden from herself for years.
“What a hideous person.” She whispered to her computer
screen. As if they had heard her a private message alert popped up on the menu
of the website.
Adelina took a deep breath and shook her head as if to clear
it of the negative congestion. She clicked the notification to find the empty
silhouette of anony69697 and the bright red letters reading “new message”.
“What the fuck?” She breathed as she clicked the link.
Dear Ms. Santiago
I want you to know
that your writing is fucking shit. I can’t believe you got a book deal. Geez, I
guess they’re just giving any old nimrod a publishing contract these days.
Demonic Romance was literally a waste of my time. ARE YOU KIDDING? It was just
the worst crock ever! Trust me when I say, I totally meant what I said. You
should look into dying immediately. Actually, look me up and I’ll do it for
you!
Sincerely,
A real writer!
Adelina’s chest began to rise and fall in rapid time. She
pulled Tyrion off her lap and sprinted for the bathroom. She nearly crashed
into the frame of her office doorway before the room began to swirl and blur.
She pressed her eyes tight as she reached for the wall to stead her. Leaning her
head back against the chilly wooden planks of the hallway wall, she slowly
slipped down to the floor, resting her head back.
“Calm down.” She encouraged. “It’s just some dumb asshole on
the Internet. Why are you so upset?” Images of herself in a grey checkered
Catholic school uniform flashed in front of her lidded eyes. Memories of her
former classmates laughing at her poems and short stories during sharing time
of Creative Free-Write Day made her stomach knot.
“You’re a published writer!! What did that dick ever
publish?? What type of person hides behind an anonymous username?” Adelina knelt
with her head resting on her knees for a few moments before rising and righting
herself. She made her way to her office desk and reached for her phone.
“Hi, Detective Belia?” The air in the room was thick and restricting. She couldn’t
think or do anything else until she found out who this keyboard warrior was
exactly. “Hi! It’s Adelina Rodriguez,” She trailed off. “You remember? I called
you a few months back asking for your expert opinion on criminal investigation
in the office versus the field?” She played absently with her plump bottom lip
as she awaited his response.
“Oh yes! How are you Lina?” The voice on the line boomed through her phone. She was starting to feel at ease. This was phase one of getting recompense for the way she was wronged.
“I was curious if you would be willing to help me out one more time, as
a favor?”…
There was more but I just put what I wrote in fifteen minutes.
Fantastic! I love how you delved back into the author’s past, finding out the reasons this criticism hurt her so badly.
I wait. Sipping the latte, I feel cold foam bubbling over my lips, followed by a scalding wave of coffee. Thinking of an interesting metaphor, I jot something down on my notepad. And wait.
The sidewalk cafe is filled with regulars, just one face missing from the crowd. Maybe “novellover84” was put off by the message on her answering machine and decided to stay indoors today. Still, I sip. And wait.
Finally, as the traffic lights turn green for the hundredth time, I see a tall woman in a floppy broad-brimmed hat cross the street. Gotcha. She passes me without a glance (maybe the huge sunglasses and headscarf are an adequate disguise) and orders a skinny cappuccino. Figures. Hardly believing my good luck, I see her take a seat at the table right beside me. She reaches into her purse to withdraw a pink iPhone, which she proceeds to click violently with her lacquered nails.
My gut fills with loathing. What a horrific spectacle of a woman. She’s probably on Goodreads right now, leaving yet another review that oozes acid and poison. There’s no telling what vitriolic adjectives she’s flinging around. Probably trying to find a way to leave a half-star rating. I think of the words she’s used for my own work, the children of my imagination and products of my blood, sweat and tears. Waste of time. Worst fiction in years. Confusing. Disappointing. A steaming pile of “you-know-what.”
The waiter approaches with the squat cup and saucer, balancing his tray with expert ease. Sliding out of my seat, I maneuver around behind him just as he comes up to Novellover’s table. With a motion that even the Three Stooges would admire, I succeed in tipping the entire tray directly on top of my nemesis. I see the cup fall in slow motion, the skinny cappuccino just missing the hat and flinging itself across the entirety of her perky sundress. The waiter stares at me in dumb bewilderment, while Novellover flies into hysterics. Somehow I am able to swivel around and melt away into the sidewalk crowd before anyone thinks to apprehend me.
Just wait until tomorrow.