Book Reviewing
Maybe you’ve noticed the diminishing space devoted to book reviews in newspapers and periodicals. Some of the slack has been picked up by bloggers, but there’s great debate about whether reviews from any source make a difference in reaching an audience. I think there is a more fundamental problem in play, something more basic than vanishing review pages. The audience is confused. They don’t know what to buy. It’s bad enough for non-fiction titles, but for novels it has become the Gordian Knot.
Tess Gerritsen posted an anecdote about a book signing at Kroger’s in Cincinnatti. She was approached by a woman who seemed dismayed to discover that Tess wasn’t Robin Cook. “I won’t buy a book by someone whose name I don’t know.” There are many ways to play the bounce here. First of all, this lady, this reluctant experiencer of books, may have gone to Krogers to buy groceries. And, you might think that being face to face with Tess Gerritsen, a discerning shopper would suspect immediately that she is not Robin Cook.
The lady in Cincy is the inamorata of marketing departments everywhere. We want to sell her things, and, when it comes to books, we want her predisposed to slapping down her plastic. She is the elusive target of branded books. She doesn’t need book reviewers. But does she represent a target rich environment? Should publishers be chasing her in the first place?
Reviewers are the new Alexanders, required to solve the puzzle before setting pen to paper. Anyone can read a book, enjoy it or set it aside, but the reviewer has more to do. Step one is to figure out if they want to read the novel in the first place. This obviously excludes the paid reviewer who has to read the book. At this point the reviewer is in the same boat as a bookstore browser. An awful number of steps are involved, beginning with the cover art. Images are suggestive, triggering visceral reactions that defy rational explanation. I can tell you from experience that it is more difficult to review a book whose cover art puts me off. That makes no sense. Like the lady in Krogers I want reassurance, moral support, certainty, but unlike the lady in question, I will read people I’ve never heard of. In fact, I’m inclined to be more open-minded about unknown authors than established ones. Branded authors disappoint avid readers so routinely now that a backlash has formed, a wall of skepticism that borders on irrationality. And so the reviewer is caught between the opposing forces of marketing heft and their own preferences, between what is available and what they might wish for. That’s a cleanup on aisle nine.