I once was a bad review aficionado. I’d cherry-pick all the most negative reviews and read them first. 1-star? Surely more useful than all the gushing 5-star reviews that didn’t say much about the book beyond, “I <3 this!!!” I preferred snarky, intelligent commentaries exploring the mechanics of why a particular character sucked or why the author was to be avoided. Books that have less mud slung at them must be better books. Right?
But.
Bad reviews and I have broken up. We’re no longer seeing each other. Occasionally, I glance at an unpleasant review of a book I just read, or even break the taboo of glimpsing a not-so-nice review of my own novel. Believe it or not, my reviewing philosophy changed before I became a published author, before I crossed my fingers and toes in the hopes that readers would love my book and not pick it to pieces in the pursuit of a snarky laugh.
Now, I’m more likely to roll my eyes at a reviewer’s attempt to cleverly eviscerate a work of fiction. To me, it’s like listening to a kid rant about the disgusting taste of broccoli. Or worse, an adult eating a cake someone baked and then publicly dissing the poor confection. That’s just rude. Sure, food critics exist. I don’t read their opinions, because I figure that if I want to know whether I’ll like a culinary creation, I’ll have to taste it myself. No amount of broccoli-haters will deter me from trying it–and loving it. And no amount of book-haters will stop me from cracking open a new novel.
If I had a book reviewing clone with identical tastes, then maybe I’d pay attention. But since there’s no Karen II who loves absolutely everything I love, I don’t see why anti-recommendations help in the slightest. You hate my favorite book? Whatever. I want a reviewer raving about the deliciousness of a new paranormal romance, so I can drool in anticipation, rather than a killjoy reviewer who stops me from trying something.
Sure, an exciting debate between good and bad reviews can make me curious about the book being fought over, but more often than not, a bad review taints my opinion of a book so that I’m hesitant to even pick it up. Because in the end, bad reviews–unless they backfire–encourage people to read less books, not more. As an author and bookaholic, that’s a fate much worse than literary gluttony. Give me recommendations any day, and I’ll do the taste-testing myself.
Designated Ugly Fat Friend. The girl who’s not as pretty or as skinny as her friends, but might get chatted up by a man-slut who wants to win brownie points in pursuit of getting laid. At least, that’s what Wesley (the man-slut) tells Bianca (the Duff). She promptly throws her drink in his face and publicly reams him, but Wesley’s words stick in her head like ugly words tend to do. And Bianca, trying to figure out why being called “Duff” hurts so much, decides that there must be at least a grain of truth to the label.
I hadn’t heard of the term “Duff” before I read this book, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know exactly how Bianca felt, exactly why she believed Wesley even though she should have let his words evaporate, and exactly why all the frustrations in her life threw her into an unexpected “enemies-with-benefits” relationship with—believe or not—Wesley himself. What happens next? The plot goes through twists that made me scrunch up my toes in anxiety, hoping everything would work out. Expect hilarious moments of sarcasm, heaps of tension, and some of the best sex/romantic scenes I’ve read in awhile. Seriously, I was completely surprised by how much I liked the romance in this one—rather than sappy characters falling on bended knee and proclaiming their star-crossed true love is forever, we have realistic passion and understanding with all its lovely flaws. Finally! This story has provided me with a new favorite fictional couple.
I had a hard time writing this review, partly because I didn’t want to spoil the story, and mostly because I really just feel like The DUFF explains itself better than I ever could. Read it if you’re a girl. Read it if you’re a guy. Read it if you’ve ever felt like Bianca does, and I’m sure all of us have, which is what makes this book brilliant.
(The publisher sent me this ARC for review.)
If you’ve read my review for Beautiful Creatures, the first book in the Caster Chronicles series, you will know that I gobbled up that book like delicious cake. Therefore, when I discovered ARCs of Book #2 at the ALA Annual Conference, I may have squealed with glee and snatched a copy greedily. (Okay, so I did.) Afterward, I lovingly squirreled away the book as a special treat for when I finished my revisions on my own novel. That didn’t last very long.
Beautiful Darkness is 512 pages, a fact that alarms me when I consider that I read the book in two sittings. I couldn’t help myself, though, because the story wormed its way into my imagination even when I was doing mundane activities like eating cereal or watching TV. If you haven’t read Book #1, go read my review for that. If you have read Book #1, then continue reading this review for Book #2.
Beautiful Darkness satisfies my need for:
(1) Twisted magic that draws upon voodoo and curses from the Civil War. Also, twisted magic in the hands of a likely dangerous girl, rather than a ubiquitous brooding guy.
(2) Romance. But not easy-peasy, standard-issue, star-crossed “we must be together every second of our waking existences!” romance, the bittersweet kind that involves people getting pissed and not talking to each other for realistic reasons.
(3) New characters who are just as crazy fun as the last batch. Though I will admit to liking the new L better than the old L. (Shhh! No spoilers.) Just because the new L is fabulous.
(4) More exploration of the South and its patchwork of cultures. For example:”Decorating graves was another one of Gatlin’s contests–a way to prove that you and your family members, even the dead ones, were better than your neighbors and theirs. People went all out. Plastic wreaths wrapped in green nylon vines, shiny rabbits and squirrels, even birdbaths, so hot from the sun they could burn the skin right off your fingers. There was no overdoing it. The tackier, the better.” I adore paranormal fiction well-rooted in reality.
I will stop this review right here, since I don’t want to tread into the realm of spoilers, and believe me, Beautiful Darkness is chock-full of twists that you will just have to discover on your own.
(I got this as an ARC from ALA, if you didn’t see that above.)
