The Best and The Worst…of Reviews

By Evelyn David

Don't tell me. I know. I shouldn't read my reviews. Actor Kevin Bacon has sworn that he never reads his, although don't you think that his agent probably does?

I know that several Stiletto Gang authors also have forsworn reading reviews.

But you're talking to a woman who happily reads spoilers for her favorite TV shows – and still enjoys them. So you think I'm not going to look to see who loves me – and, tragically, who doesn't?

So I was thrilled when readers begin posting glowing reviews of MURDER DOUBLES BACK. Lesa Holstine, librarian and reviewer extraordinaire, said "When authors can manage to juggle large casts, complicated stories, a fascinating dog, and traces of humor, they shouldn't wait years between books. Evelyn David's entertaining Murder Doubles Back will make readers regret four lost years."

Wow! That made my week, month – year.

But then, here's what another reader wrote, headlined, "Where's The Humor?" Actually the review was quite positive, saying, "The story line was good. The characters were still appealing." But she didn't think we brought the funny.

But, But…she said I didn't have a sense of humor? Me who has considered a job as a stand-up comic? Me, who is a barrel of laughs, except when reading reviews that are like a stiletto to the heart, so to speak.

You're questioning my humor? Question my writing ability, sure. But question whether I can deliver a joke? The horror.

Sigh. Don't tell me. I shouldn't read reviews.

Maybe I'll listen to a George Carlin riff on You Tube. Nobody ever accused him of not having a sense of humor.

Please share your worst review or job performance evaluation. Misery loves company.

Marian, the Northern Half of Evelyn David (the one without a sense of humor, the Southern half is quite the cut-up)

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Click the link below to find out how to get 10 free ebooks
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Sullivan Investigations Mystery
Murder Off the Books Kindle - Nook - Smashwords - Trade Paperback
Murder Takes the Cake Kindle - Nook - Smashwords - Trade Paperback 
Murder Doubles Back Kindle - Nook - Smashwords - Trade Paperback
Riley Come Home (short story)- Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Moonlighting at the Mall (short story) - Kindle - Nook - Smashwords

 

Zoned for Murder
Kindle
Nook
Smashwords
Trade Paperback

Brianna Sullivan Mysteries - e-book series
I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries- Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
The Dog Days of Summer in Lottawatah- Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
The Holiday Spirit(s) of Lottawatah- Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Undying Love in Lottawatah- Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
A Haunting in Lottawatah - Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Lottawatah Twister - Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Missing in Lottawatah - Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Good Grief in Lottawatah - Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Summer Lightning in Lottawatah - Kindle - Nook - Smashwords

The Ghosts of Lottawatah - trade paperback collection of the Brianna e-books
Book 1 - I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries (includes the first four Brianna e-books)
Book 2 - A Haunting in Lottawatah (includes the 5th, 6th, and 7th Brianna e-books)

Romances
Love Lessons - Kindle - Nook - Smashwords

Too Much Stuff

With a tip of the hat to the brilliant, much-missed comedian, George Carlin, lately I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about “stuff.” We’re planning to down-size and move to a smaller house, and my biggest fear is what to do with all this stuff.

Fans well remember Carlin’s famous riff:
That’s all your house is: a place to keep your stuff. If you didn’t have so much stuff, you wouldn’t need a house. A house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it.

I’m going to skip any of the sentimental attachments that develop when you’ve lived in a house for 20 years. The memories come with you, I keep telling myself.

But OY, the stuff. Consider:

I have my stuff in several boxes marked memorabilia, and includes every drawing made by son number one because after all, he was first born. A few scribbles from son number two, because kids drawings were still a novelty. Apparently son number three and daughter never picked up a pencil because there is nada from them. Plus all their report cards, mother’s day cards, letters from my parents and sister, and probably my high school yearbook, although I haven’t seen it since the last move. There are also cartons of photographs which include duplicates because the drugstore gave you two prints of each photo when they printed them out for you. (Note the archaic concepts in that one sentence: that you didn’t have the photos on a digital memory card, that there was someplace called a drugstore, and that someone other than yourself was printing them out). See, getting rid of stuff means getting rid of the old ways of thinking too.

There are separate boxes of my husband’s memorabilia, although he’s not quite the sniveling ball of sentiment that I am.

There is memorabilia accumulated by each of the kid. For example, I have playbills from the sixth grade production of My Fair Lady. Keep in mind that I sat through all six performances, plus two dress rehearsals, of this musical. Son number one had exactly one line (which I can still repeat): “Mr. Doolittle to see you, sir.” How many copies of that playbill does he need? Also in these boxes are complete collections of all soccer, baseball, hockey, baseketball, “you didn’t win, but you still get a tiny trophy because everyone’s a winner in our town,” fake brass awards times four.

But let’s move beyond my stuff, hubby’s stuff, kids stuff. When parents downsize their homes, you inherit their stuff. When my mother-in-law moved from her home of 40 years to an apartment, she couldn’t bear to donate her late husband’s fishing equipment. There probably isn’t a charity dedicated to underprivileged fly fishermen. On the other hand, these ancient rods and reels have now taken on mythic proportions in my not so-sentimental husband’s memories, so we could move to a studio apartment and in one corner would be three fishing rods and a tackle box. This from the man who hasn’t gone fishing in 10 years – and didn’t use his Dad’s stuff then.

And sadly, when your parents die, and you have to break up their homes, you make snap decisions on their “stuff,” that you then have to live with. For example, consumed by grief when our mother died, my sister took Mom’s pink hairnet. Three months later, with a little clearer perspective, she asked me what the heck she should do with it. It certainly wasn’t the essence of our mother, but it now seemed tacky to discard it. As my sister pointed out, “now that I’ve taken it, I’ve got it,” followed by a heavy sigh.

I admire those who can pare down their belongings to two sets of clean underwear and a change of shirts. I understand their world view that they can more clearly see what’s important and what’s not without stuff weighing them down. I can’t pare it down that much for a weekend trip, let alone a move. I know the concept of dumping all this “stuff” might be liberating, but it’s also exhausting.

What are you doing with your stuff?

Evelyn David

The Week in Review

I’m leaving for San Francisco on Saturday and for all of you West-Coasters/Bay Area denizens, please stop by M Is for Mystery in San Mateo, on Sunday, June 29th, at 2:00. I’ll be signing, reading, chatting, and having a great time talking about my second Alison Bergeron mystery, “Extracurricular Activities.” I hope to see you!I’ve been in that frantic pre-trip frenzy, getting ready to leave for a week. I’m leaving the computer at home and am wondering just exactly how I’ll stay in touch with the world. But whatever—I’ll be in San Francisco, the city that ranks right behind my hometown, New York City, as the best in the world. (And, oh yeah, Paris. And of course, Miami…I’m fickle.)

But in the midst of all this preparation, I’ve been thinking about the past week and had a few thoughts on a couple of topics/people. Ready? I thought so.

1. The death of George Carlin: OK, God, you took Russert, and now Carlin. I can’t even imagine who’s next and am not going to name names in case it gives you any ideas. You’ve got the smart guy, and now the funny/smart guy. No more. And by the way, I’m sure you have access to YouTube up in heaven; couldn’t you have contented yourself with watching old bits from Carlin and left him with us for another twenty years? Favorite bits: STUFF (your house is just a big receptacle for all of your STUFF); driving (why is the guy going slower than you a moron and the guy going faster than you a maniac?); intelligence (think about the average American and then remember that half of the population is dumber than that). That’s all I can think of for now and of course, I’ve taken literary license. We’ll miss you, George. Hope you got to meet Joe.

2. And speaking of Russert: Tom Brokaw subbed on “Meet the Press” this week and it sounds like he will be the guy until the election (and hopefully after). We needed Brokaw back. I’m just sorry it came about the way it did but his presence on television can only be considered a positive.

3. Michelle Obama: I never watch “The View” (I’m working, people!). But I took time out last week to watch her just to get a sense if all of those maniacal talking heads who have branded her a militant (the way that word is used…in the words of the Northern half of Evelyn David: Oy!), caustic, rigid, fist-bumping terrorist were right. Not only were they wrong, they now look like fools. She was warm, gracious, real, and unpracticed (or maybe that’s just my gullibility showing). She’s got a husband who she’s crazy about, despite the fact that she initially did not want him to run for president. She’s got two adorable daughters. And that dress she had on? Perfection. If I had a muscle in my upper arms, I would go out and buy it. Never did a $119 dress look so perfect. Go, Michelle.

4. Cindy McCain: Beer heiress Cindy showed her humanitarian side last week. And I liked it. Who’s with me that the women are going to outshine the men in this election? One can only hope…

5. Following your dream versus getting a job: A friend read my post called “Perception versus Reality” a few weeks back and then attended her son’s college graduation. The speaker was a young broadcast journalist who we all know who implored students to “follow their dreams.” My friend, who’s had enough of dream following to last a lifetime, reflected on my post and wrote me to chat about it. Very gratifying. But it got me thinking: what happened to that idealistic college grad that I was back in 1800? I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not a dream killer, I just think you should have a job while pursuing your dream. Spoken like a mother, right? I’ve sold out. I’m THE MAN. I’m BIG TOBACCO. I’m THE ESTABLISHMENT. When did that happen?

And on a strictly personal note, thank you to all of you who read and comment on these blogs. I was talking to a fourth-grader the other night who told me that her dream is to be a writer and she asked me what it takes. While I said,“write every day,” her mother chimed in with “read everything you can get your hands on.” Those are the two main keys, certainly. And by allowing me to blog every week about any variety of topics, my writing has become clearer, sharper, and more focused. I’m writing more than I’m reading, admittedly, and that’s fine. I’m building up those Stephen King “writing muscles.”

I’ll catch you up on my trip when I return. Now I’m going to try to tackle packing a week’s worth of clothing into a carry-on bag. Wish me luck!

Maggie