Shhh! Mom’s snoozing. So it’s just us, okay?
Can we talk? Like, about book reviews? Cuz Mom and I are getting flooded with requests for book reviews. We love it! But we also want to be efficient. So we decided to set and clarify some basic ground rules. As in, what to avoid. Or Don’t Be This Author. With this kind of book.
So, here’s how to get a negative review in three easy steps (Examples taken from actual events. Names and places sort of changed to protect the not-so-innocent.):
Note: We received a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for an honest review
From Army Scout to Outlaw, from Hero to Legend.
This is the story of a gifted man “suspended on a cross between two cultures” who became the best army Apache scout and the most feared outlaw in the southwest borderlands. And then disappeared.
Apache Kid opens in Aravaipa, Arizona in May 1871. Young Ohyessonna (“Hears something in the night”) is living with his family.
He survives the embers of the fires and murders at the Camp Grant Massacre of Apaches. Young Has-kay-bay-nay-ntayl (“brave and tall and will come to a mysterious end”) is known by many names growing up. But growing up in two cultures means choosing between loyalty and betrayal, choosing between his people and their overseers.
Hark! Her Royal Momness Speaketh! With a Royal Announcement-eth! (I’d listen up ‘fize you!)
We are CLOSED to new review requests until further notice. For three main reason-eths:
When folks commit The Unpardonable Sin of ignoring our Guidelines, they’re wasting our time. And theirs. Now, we used to feel obliged to respond to every review request, no matter how ridiculous or unlikely. We don’t feel that way anymore. It’s a waste of our time. So we don’t bother.
Speaking of “bother,” another reason we’re temporarily closing the review queue: You wouldn’t believe the number of authors and others who get a positive review (3.0 or above) and bail. Never to be seen or heard from again. Let alone Like, Share, and Comment. Which is a requirement for every positive review. It’s clearly stated in our Guidelines.
NEWSFLASH Buttercup: It takes a LOT of time and effort to read a book and craft a brilliant review. We don’t even charge for said genuis. So we’re not too keen on pouring time and effort into a review for an author who can’t even be bothered to take two mins to say Thanks. It’s also a good way to get burnt out. And that’s pretty much where we’re at. (But we really, really appreciate the few who do take the time to read and abide by our Guidelines. Cuz you’re really, really PAWsome. Maybe not quite as Pawsome as a T-bone steak. Nobody’s perfect.)
So there you have it, Cupcake.
We have plenty of stuff still in the blogging pipeline. In case you’re wondering, Toots. Just not accepting any new review requests until further notice.
TTFN.
“Eureka!” says Mom the other day. I have no idea why she says this. But she says it a lot. Especially when she’s lugging another truck load of “books” home from The Book Place.
Me, I’m not crazy about The Book Place. Ever since Mom pointed out the “guide dogs and service animals only” sign. What am I, chopped Salisbury steak with extra gravy? Tri-tip roast? A nice, thick burger sizzling merrily on the outdoor grill?
Wait. What was I saying?
Oh yeah. “Eureka” and The Book Place.
“See what we have here?” says Mom, pulling out one of those big square reading thingies from a library “book bag” big enough to choke a Brontosaurus. “This is a book,” she explains. “Black letters on white pages.” She fans the pages.
I sniff said pages. Can I eat it? Something tells me no. As in, BIG N-O.
“David Copperfield!” Mom announces. I’m still sniffing. “A classic!” she says.
Am I supposed to be impressed?
“Wait! There’s more!” Mom crows, excavating deeper into the Bronto bag. She unearths more reading thingies. Like Pride and Prejudice. A Raisin in the Sun. The Black Stallion Returns. Thunder Rolling in the Mountains.
Still sniffing…
Meanwhile, I’m beginning to wonder about these reading thingies she calls “books.” They don’t have any buttons. Blinking lights. Bonus levels. App updates. In fact, books really don’t have any sounds at all. And not much smell, either. (Dust maybe.)
This doesn’t seem to slow Mom down.
“Look,” she says, cheerfully paging through something called Anchor in the Storm.
You’d think she just discovered filet mignon, medium well.
“Finding a good book is like finding buried treasure!” Mom continues. “It’s an adventure waiting to happen!”
She tells me that these reading thingies – “books” – can take you on travels only you can imagine. Through forests thick with facts. Whole galaxies dripping with starry fiction. A book can introduce you to lifelong friends, says Mom. Keep you awake all night until The End. A book can be a friend if you just want to be by yourself in the highest peak of a status-update-free mountain. And the only “storage space” that runs out in a book is what’s in your own head.
Also, a book doesn’t run on batteries. Never needs a recharge. Or a power cord. Doesn’t have an off button. You don’t need to remember a password to get inside. And a book won’t unfriend you. Ever.
At the end of the day, you can put down a book and it won’t mind. Because, says Mom, a book will always be there, waiting for you to come back. Pick up where you left off. Like an old friend welcoming you home. Whether you’re a “service animal” or not.
Mom may be on to something. I just hope she hurries up with that steak.
Brontosaurus image: Wikimedia Commons
*We received a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for an honest review
Mom and I used to feel duty-bound to finish every book we picked up. Or someone wanted us to review. Even if continued reading felt like plowing through a raging blizzard in the middle of Siberia. In winter. At night. Bare foot.
We don’t feel that way anymore.
So, listen up, Buttercup. About 2.6 mil books were published globally last year. Some are worth reading. Others aren’t. Some books are just lousy. Poorly written with paper-thin plots and anemic characters. Others just aren’t our cuppa. As in, Yawn.
“You do not see me. I am invisible!”
Mom! Mom! barketh I, Kimber the Magnificent. Dancing my patented Kimber Canine Jig. Tail wagging a mile a minute.
Mom: What’s up, Kimster?
Kimber: It’s a mega doughnut alert!
Mom: Doughnut alert? What the heck are you barking about, Kimmi?
Kimber: Oh, c’mon Mom! I’m talking about that new book we just finished. The one about the ex-Marine, ex-cop, ex-attorney who becomes a super-duper bank robber dude. It’s a four-alarm, honest-to-goodness humdinger of a doughnut alert.
Mom rolleth her eyes-eth.
Kimber: No, really. It goes like this:
Talith: When the sky breaks open; transformation that changes you into who you are meant to be; into your very essence.
Kimber: I won’t grow up,
(I won’t grow up)
I don’t want to go to school.
(I don’t want to go to school)
Just to learn to be a parrot,
(Just to learn to be a parrot)
And recite a silly rule.
(And recite a silly rule)…
Mom: Kimmi, what in the world are you doing?
Kimber: I’m putting that book we just finished to music. You know. That one you said was – and I quote: “One of the most remarkable historical fiction/fantasy novels I’ve read in years.”
Mom: Oh. You mean Patti Callahan Henry’s The Story She Left Behind?
Kimber: Bingo! Now step away from the pixie dust and tell the peeps about this Totally PAWsome book already.
Mom: Roger that. Here goes:
Two thriller/suspense novels set in The Great Outdoors. By two different authors. One’s set in the Cowboy State. The other, Big Sky Country. One is by an outdoor/Western author we know well. The author is by someone we’ve heard of before. Both pack a wallop. Here’s why:
Kimber here. Telling you to hold on to your kibble. Or whatevs. Cuz Her Momness and I? We just finished one of them thar “barn burner” thingies. It’s historical fiction. Set in an oft-overlooked epoch. By an author who’s not exactly known for historical fiction. But this fella? Even though David Baldacci’s an acclaimed, best-selling author of action/thriller tomes, he doggone outdogg-ies his-self with Strangers in Time.
I know. I’m adorable.
I’ll let Mom tell ya more:
“You have to love a nation that celebrates its independence every July 4, not with a parade of guns, tanks, and soldiers who file by the White House in a show of strength and muscle, but with family picnics where kids throw Frisbees, the potato salad gets iffy, and the flies die from happiness. You may think you have overeaten, but it is patriotism.” ~Erma Bombeck
Happy Birthday, America!
And best wishes to all our dear readers for a safe and enjoyable holiday!
This post was originally published here in 2015.
We thought it was time for an encore.
Pages & Paws 
