But what about the book reviewers? They are a hardworking lot, as I know from long experience.
Trying to cast my mind back to the first book review I wrote isn't easy, as it was so long ago -- back in the 1980s. I had a note from the books review editor of the New Zealand Herald suggesting that I was the perfect person to review a certain book -- a maritime book, perhaps. I was flattered, and he was such a pleasant, affable, and kind person that I was hooked. I read the book, flicked off a review within the strict 300-word limit, and felt happy when I saw it in the newspaper.
Alas, as he loved the review, he loved the speed I had produced it, so wanted me to do more. Other newspaper editors got into the act, for here was a reviewer who actually produced! And that within the 300-word limit! With the quotable 12-word phrase that publishers loved to put on the jacket of the author's next book, what's more. Magazines, including internationals, were sending review requests, so that added to the pile. Not long after that I was flying to the United States and back on a regular basis ... and absolute cartons of books were following me.
What to do with the books, once read, turned into a problem. Long flights were useful, as I could read a book or two, write down my review in a notebook (reviews were typed and posted to the editors, back then), and leave the book or two on the plane. My stepsister lived in a small seaside town with a small seaside library, which welcomed my books with huge enthusiasm. Some books I kept, which often meant having to post them back to New Zealand. It was then I found out the US Postal Service's "M-bag" option, where you could stow up to 11 kilos of books in a bag that had been made by prisoners and pay a set price. Those bags were regarded with great curiosity by the NZ Postal Service, but they worked.
Many books were not the usual kind of reading matter for me. Mega-bestsellers, for instance. But there were some marvelous discoveries -- a biography of Marilyn Monroe by Donald Spoto, Fatal Passage, by Ken McGoogan, Pierre Berton's Arctic Grail are just three that come to mind. And then there were the review requests that came in from top magazines and newspapers, which allowed a 1200-word review -- bliss! -- and published the review as a full-page item. And, because they paid by the word, the money was unusually nice.
There are bad books, inevitably. It was impossible not to feel sorry for the publisher, editor, and author, but objective reviewing is essential. Otherwise it isn't fair. I haven't had death threats. Yet. But there have been people who have let me know that they don't like me.
There is also the problem of time-lag. Often months elapse between the submission of the review and its publication, though this has improved with the internet. But with non-fiction studies, the book could be out of date before the review got into print. Worse, for me, is when reviews I had written for new authors appear long, long after those few crucial weeks after publication.
There have been funny moments. There was the time when a box of Harlequin romances arrived. Now then, no one reviews Harlequin/Mills & Boon, but I had snuck in a nice review written by a romance author who was actually an extremely good writer, and also an extremely nice woman, and I guess they had heard about it. So I left the open carton on my doorstep, and the books vanished, not just one by one, but at startling speed.
But then there were what are called in the trade, "Sadistic Subbies." They are the people who place your review and give it a headline.
A book had arrived by a mega-selling author that I hated. Let's call him "X". So my extremely lukewarm review ended by saying that only the author's most ardent fans could enjoy this latest offering.
And the headline ran X'S ARDENT FANS WILL BE DELIGHTED.
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