Should authors read reviews of their own books?

‘Oh, I never read reviews’, said the writer, his left eye twitching almost imperceptibly.

That’s what we’re supposed to say though, isn’t it? It’s almost a cliché of being an artist of any kind. But surely we do read them, don’t we? In a cold sweat at midnight, to the sound of an ice-cube rattling in a whisky glass? After all, why wouldn’t authors want to know what people are saying about their books? Surely there’s a lot to be learnt form how readers are reacting to our work.

When Haunters was published, I set my jaw and determined to face up to whatever might be aimed at it, reminding myself that any review was a good sign. After all, what can be worse than never being reviewed at all? So I set up google alerts, made occasional searches, installed the Goodreads app on my phone, kept the tin hat tipped back.

And so far I’ve been fortunate; Haunters has had mostly positive or very positive reviews. There have been some fair criticisms too, but no real nasties (though how’s that for waving a red rag at a bull?). I’ve seen how brutal some reviews can be, so I’m mostly just relieved to have reached today without being torn to shreds from the safety of some anonymous armchair. And yet it turns out that merely waiting to be savaged is itself a negative force. After months of low-grade anxiety over just the possibility of a slap, after feverishly dabbing at the Goodreads icon of a morning, after almost not logging in to Amazon at all, I’ve come to understand not only why authors say they don’t read reviews of their own books, but I’ve also come to believe them.

I realise this makes me sound like a pathetic bundle of nerves. And perhaps I am. But nervy over-sensitivity seems to be a good quality in any artist, so I won’t apologise. And anyway, here’s the thing: no one knows a book as well as the person who wrote it. I am already painfully aware of the shortcomings in everything I do, and gain little from having them broadcast back at me by complete strangers.

I know that honest reviewers can be frustrated by the “don’t-read-‘em” stance, and like all writers I’m hugely grateful to anyone who has taken the time to read and review any of my books (thank you!). But since not logging-in to Goodreads for several months has actually left me calmer and more productive, I can’t help drawing a certain conclusion.

I’m not sure anyone who hasn’t gone through the book creating process themselves can really understand how it is possible for imperfections to get through to print. But when you have a hundred plates to keep spinning, one of them is always wobbling — that’s just how it is. Close up scrutiny of that errant plate might make the writer feel bad – and the reviewer triumphant — but it’s hardly going to prevent it happening again.

A good writer friend recently summed it up nicely: the negative effect of a bad review is always greater in magnitude than the positive effect of a good one. And that is precisely why I have stopped reading any review that isn’t actually shoved under my nose. Because in the end, reviews are surely meant for readers first and foremost. Authors should just get on with writing their next book.