Life Lessons From Book Reviews
I promise this is not a post about developing a thicker skin or giving fewer fucks…
You Again came out last month and I’m not hesitant to say it’s one of my favorites. The femme character is stronger and more confident than I can even pretend to be. There’s a precocious kid. A trans brother (who I’m pretty sure is going to get his own book). All set in a fictional (progressive!) south Louisiana town that allowed me to indulge the things I love and miss about the south.
It’s also a second chance romance between high school sweethearts. Meaning, the characters were together and broke up, and they get a second chance. The requisite breakup in this story came when one of the characters went to college and the one who stayed behind had a hookup and got pregnant.
One of my beta readers warned me. She said lesbian readers don’t forgive cheating. They won’t forgive Kate and they won’t forgive you. Pish-posh, I said. Making bad, impulsive decisions comes with the territory of being seventeen. And it’s a decade later. If Sutton forgives Kate, readers will too.
Ha.
Actually, most readers have. They’re along for the ride and it is, after all, a second chance romance. Kate and Sutton had to break up somehow. Others, well, they aren’t having it and they haven’t hesitated to tell me so. (Though, honestly, most of the not having it simply involves a desire for more “sorry,” albeit with varying degrees of guilt/self-flagellation/wailing and gnashing of teeth.)
As I’m wont to do with less than glowing reviews, I grumble. I get defensive. Then, because I’m a busy lady who’s not inclined to hold grudges, I set them aside. Days go by and eventually, when I’m not paying attention, they percolate into my mind and I process them like a reasonable adult. Because while a few folks relish being mean, most readers who bother to write reviews are thoughtful about them. I appreciate that and I’m a fan of constructive criticism. It makes me a better writer.
This time, though, the criticism hit close to home. It was about my story, sure, but it was also about me. And so my processing has looked a little different.
Here’s the thing. I forgive. I’m quick to forgive even the biggest mistakes–the most hurtful ones–if I know they came from a place of struggle. Maybe too quick.
I’m not saying I want to fundamentally change that, but it’s probably good to know about myself. And maybe–just maybe–it would be healthy to raise the bar. Be less afraid to admit how hurt I am. Expect (demand? gasp) people I love to own how hurtful their choices or actions were. Require forgiveness to involve legit vulnerability on both sides.
Sigh. Yeah.
So, if you dinged You Again because Kate wasn’t sorry enough, thank you. My therapist thanks you, too. I grumbled, but I heard you. Hear you. You make a valid point. I promise both I and my characters will take it under advisement moving forward.
