Back in my reporting days, one of my jobs was to review books by local authors. Almost all were self-published; some were astoundingly good.

One was beyond awful.

The lady who wrote it had clearly worked hard and long on it. She was a member of a writing group which had been “so supportive, I felt bathed in love.” (Yes really. I heard all about it because she called me EVERY DAY to see if I’d read her book yet. Thank God it was an election year and I was mainly a political reporter, so I could truthfully say I’d been busy.)

Oh, the book was bad. The characters changed personality mid-stream; the plot was incomprehensible. One would think her writing group would at least have caught the two chapters that had been physically switched. (One was Chapter Three, the other Chapter Twelve…) But no. The group loved it. I heard from them too. “Couldn’t you just tell her it was good?”

That is surely kind, shoring up the ego of someone who evidently needed it. But it did not make her a better writer.

BTW, I recommend a couple years in journalism for anyone who wants to write; you lose the attitude real fast, learn to write on tight deadlines, and get used to negative feedback. Also you get a regular paycheck.

My computer won’t let me email you with your link. Wants me to set up an internet connections wizard. Vista…

Thanks so much for your books! Keep em coming.

Hope