I’ve been asked twice now about my approach to reading for reviews and, grateful for that interest, I’ve given it a little more serious thought. Coincidentally, after almost a year of regular book blogging, I’m probably in need of some kind of policy; until I develop something more formal, this post will have to stand for that. While it might appear somewhat back to front, it makes more sense to me to begin by outlining what I’m trying to achieve followed by how I go about it. Your feedback, as ever, would be much appreciated.
HER reviews
HER reviews
My aim is to produce something Honest, Engaging and Respectful based around what I’ve read. Honest seems fairly obvious, but it isn’t entirely straightforward: I’m committed to telling the truth and nothing but the truth, yet I won’t write the whole truth of my reactions to a book if doing so interferes with my attempts to produce engaging posts that treat the author with respect. I know how hard it is to write, publish and promote a novel, and I’m reluctant to add to that burden without good reason. Yet I prefer to aim for a respectful approach than a guaranteed positive one; I want to be free to acknowledge what I don’t like – it would be disrespectful to my readers to do otherwise – but I’m also conscious of the context in which a book is published, and I’m likely to read a highly-hyped or big-name novel more critically than one that’s struggling for a mention. Alongside all that, I’m less concerned with providing a thorough analysis of a novel than with producing blog content that has a chance of being read. Many of my regular readers aren’t necessarily looking for yet another book to add to their TBR pile, so the post has to be engaging in itself. I’m rather chuffed that some of the liveliest discussions (such as this on the right to die debate and this on the treatment of “special” children) have evolved from my reviews of novels I didn’t particularly enjoy.
My READIN’ for reviews
British readers of a certain age will have grown up with a radio programme that began “Are you sitting comfortably?” Following that tradition, my reading has to be, first and foremost, an enjoyable and relaxing experience. Weather permitting, that might entail lounging in the garden; more often I’m in the sitting room on a reclining armchair with a cup of tea. Then, although I’m bound to have some preconceptions from the cover, blurb and, occasionally, other reviews, I try to read with what Freud termed evenly suspended attention, letting the book take me where it will. I’ve come across other reviewers who have a checklist of things to look out for (e.g. character, plot, etc) but, although those are important characteristics that often crop up in my reviews, I don’t keep them consciously in mind.
Although there’s no formal contract when I receive a book from a publisher, I do generally feel a sense of professional accountability both to read to the end and to write up a review, especially if it’s a book I’ve requested (although, like JJ Marsh, I value my time more than the price of even a hardback, and my accountability to my blog followers trumps that to the publishing industry). And, if I’ve received a copy sufficiently in advance of UK publication, I jot down this date in my diary and try to post my review on that day. (If and when either A or D get too chaotic I revert to R. As it happens, 9 April saw five novels from my TBR pile published but, when it came to it, I didn’t post a single review on that day. Although I take my reviewing seriously, I’m doing this for pleasure, and the sky won’t fall down if I don’t do it right.)
With my evenly suspended attention, I’m looking out for something interesting to share on my blog. Sometimes it will be around what I can take from the book as a writer; sometimes it’s the pleasure of the prose. Sometimes I find I have more to say about the subject matter than how it’s been fictionalised. While I probably have a particular blogging style, and there might be more repetition from one review to another than I’d like (although, as you’ve probably noticed, I do like making links between my reviews where I find them, which can sometimes throw a review out of shape), I’m aiming to maintain both my own and my readers’ interest by making my reviews almost as individual as the novels themselves.
My READIN’ for reviews
British readers of a certain age will have grown up with a radio programme that began “Are you sitting comfortably?” Following that tradition, my reading has to be, first and foremost, an enjoyable and relaxing experience. Weather permitting, that might entail lounging in the garden; more often I’m in the sitting room on a reclining armchair with a cup of tea. Then, although I’m bound to have some preconceptions from the cover, blurb and, occasionally, other reviews, I try to read with what Freud termed evenly suspended attention, letting the book take me where it will. I’ve come across other reviewers who have a checklist of things to look out for (e.g. character, plot, etc) but, although those are important characteristics that often crop up in my reviews, I don’t keep them consciously in mind.
Although there’s no formal contract when I receive a book from a publisher, I do generally feel a sense of professional accountability both to read to the end and to write up a review, especially if it’s a book I’ve requested (although, like JJ Marsh, I value my time more than the price of even a hardback, and my accountability to my blog followers trumps that to the publishing industry). And, if I’ve received a copy sufficiently in advance of UK publication, I jot down this date in my diary and try to post my review on that day. (If and when either A or D get too chaotic I revert to R. As it happens, 9 April saw five novels from my TBR pile published but, when it came to it, I didn’t post a single review on that day. Although I take my reviewing seriously, I’m doing this for pleasure, and the sky won’t fall down if I don’t do it right.)
With my evenly suspended attention, I’m looking out for something interesting to share on my blog. Sometimes it will be around what I can take from the book as a writer; sometimes it’s the pleasure of the prose. Sometimes I find I have more to say about the subject matter than how it’s been fictionalised. While I probably have a particular blogging style, and there might be more repetition from one review to another than I’d like (although, as you’ve probably noticed, I do like making links between my reviews where I find them, which can sometimes throw a review out of shape), I’m aiming to maintain both my own and my readers’ interest by making my reviews almost as individual as the novels themselves.
Finally, although I like to have access to pencil and paper while I’m reading, I don’t always take a lot of notes, unless it’s a book that’s made such a strong impression on me (for example, A History of Loneliness and The Narrow Road to the Deep North) that I feel compelled to go into great detail about the story and/or where it’s particularly complex (for example, The Chimes) and I don’t want to confuse readers by getting details wrong. I do note down page numbers of extracts I’d like to quote, of course, but I’m still strangely reluctant to mark the actual text, usually using the publisher’s press sheet, if there is one, for my scribbles. Having spent a significant part of my professional life listening to people talk about themselves for almost an hour at a time without taking notes, I’m probably quite skilled at keeping my ideas in my head till I can splurge at the computer, but I do occasionally begin drafting my reviews before reaching the end of the novel, although that’s a strategy that can backfire.
So that’s the HER READIN’ of my review process. I wonder if anyone has any suggestions for a descriptor beginning with G?
On that note, there’s no doubt that readers’ feedback has shaped my review process, whether it’s your generous cheerleading, tangential discussions or additional questions, including pushing me to come down from the fence when I’m fudging it. Another thing that undoubtedly helps, although I don’t have as much time to do so as I ought to, is comparing my reviews with those of others. Sometimes, it merely confirms the fact that different readers take different things from a novel; other times, such as with A Spool of Blue Thread, it points the way to doing it better. Though I have no particular ambitions for my reviews, as with many things, I hope to improve with practice. While there are plenty of book bloggers I admire, my gold standard – not that I always agree with them – comes from the weekly review section of the Guardian newspaper.
So that’s the HER READIN’ of my review process. I wonder if anyone has any suggestions for a descriptor beginning with G?
On that note, there’s no doubt that readers’ feedback has shaped my review process, whether it’s your generous cheerleading, tangential discussions or additional questions, including pushing me to come down from the fence when I’m fudging it. Another thing that undoubtedly helps, although I don’t have as much time to do so as I ought to, is comparing my reviews with those of others. Sometimes, it merely confirms the fact that different readers take different things from a novel; other times, such as with A Spool of Blue Thread, it points the way to doing it better. Though I have no particular ambitions for my reviews, as with many things, I hope to improve with practice. While there are plenty of book bloggers I admire, my gold standard – not that I always agree with them – comes from the weekly review section of the Guardian newspaper.
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