Short post this week because I’m traveling, but: Dangerous Fictions, which comes out October 29th, got a nice write-up in Kirkus. At least, I’m told it’s a good review—I haven’t actually read it. I’ve decided that I’m not going to read my reviews, positive or negative. This is partly in honor of RuPaul’s wise adage, “what other people think of me is none of my business” and partly because I am the most Sensitive Sally on earth. When I opened the Kirkus review to grab the link I saw the phrase “often witty”—what do you mean often? not consistently??? There is something wrong with me, probably. I’m wired badly. People can say the nicest things about me and my work and I will fixate on the one person who said something nasty, or even just hyperfocus on what wasn’t said. (An editor tells me that a story draft is “good” but not “very good”??? RUDE. I WILL DIE.)
It’s important to recognize, I think, when psychological needs are meetable, and when they’re impossible. There is simply no amount of praise that will stop me from being Like This. I need to work on ceasing to be Like This on my own, before I can handle these normal parts of the job in a normal manner, and before I can hold anyone accountable for what they said or didn’t say. And even setting aside all my psychodrama, readers are always going to be entitled to their own opinions, and I have to allow for them. There are actually very few situations in which it’s appropriate or even interesting for a writer to push back on their reviews (one such wild exception is here, if you’re interested.)
In other news, the book tour schedule is coming together and I’ll make a formal announcement of dates and times when everything’s set. But Queens, Ann Arbor, and Portland (Maine) appear to be locked in. There will also probably be a virtual event through a Massachusetts bookstore for those who can’t make it in person (featuring a very special guest! stay tuned!) Anyway I’ve never done anything like a book tour before and I am feeling a number of ways about it, because of my aforementioned normal brain. Please bear with me over the next few weeks as I continue to descend into a completely avoidable hell of my own making.1
Imagine being in a hell of someone else’s making. Embarrassing! Couldn’t be me. I just realized that’s probably why I do it and was immediately hit with +50 psychic damage
I always remember George Lewes had to go through the newspaper every day and cut out any mention of George Eliot before she could read the paper. We've always been like this.…