What Sundress-Shopping Taught Me about Book Reviews

Soon I'll attend a wedding on a beach in a warm and festive locale. Because I've been focused on the "wedding" rather than the "beach" part, I hadn't given much thought to clothes.

Luckily, I talked to friend (and friend of this blog) Lark Howard last Saturday, and mentioned I was planning to wear a dress I'd already worn to a couple of weddings to the exchange of vows on the beach. Her initial reaction: utter stillness. That muted response warned me my tried-and-true dress, so appropriate in a traditional setting, would be a wash-out on the beach. 

Lark suggested a pretty sundress or white slacks and a knockout blouse, and I'm on the hunt. 

Tomorrow, I'll hit bricks-and-mortar stores, but in preparation, I've "shopped" online for ideas and inspiration and have read roughly 200 posted reviews of dresses. (Yes, that many. Apparently, women don't hold back when they like or hate a dress.)

Reading all those dress reviews changed my attitude toward book reviews. I used to think one-star reviews of books by my favorite authors were written by unhappy, impossible-to-please trolls or mean-spirited competitors. Now I view the giver of one-star as a pear-shaped woman with buyer's remorse over a pleated skirt.

It's easy to accept outlier opinions about dresses because a quick look around the office, gym, or street shows that two women, both size twelve, may be built so differently, it's hard to believe they wear the same size. What's more, we all have assets we want to play up and flaws we want to minimize. If I read ten reviews in a row that say a dress fits bigger than expected and one that says it's tight, I know the unhappy reviewer means the garment highlights an area she wanted to hide--or she gained weight and doesn't realize it. 

One-star book reviews may be written by plot-centric readers who find character-driven stories dull or by character-happy readers who prefer to take their pivot points with lots of introspection. If a main character reminds the reader of a hated ex, the book may be doomed from the start. If, on the other hand, a hero or heroine shares a name and traits with a loved one, the story may benefit from a unjustified halo effect.

Sundresses that require dry-cleaning are doomed from the start with me, and those that can be laundered and pulled from the dryer wrinkle-free get points. Why, then, are writers baffled by readers who won't pick up a 400-page book or say their workdays are so stressful they need light reads at night? "If you try this book, you'll like it," we say, forgetting that we'd shut the fitting-room door on a saleslady pushing linen. 

Some women won't consider a hot pink-colored item of clothing, and some readers won't pick up a book with a whiff of suspense. 

When a dress or book shopper steps outside her comfort zone and likes something she expected to hate, the result is especially sweet. The following is a compilation of phrases I read in those sundress reviews: "The sale price was irresistible, and I needed a dress at the last minute, so I tried on such-and-such and, to my surprise, it looked great on me."

As readers, haven't we stumbled across a writer and then read her entire backlist, including books we wouldn't have picked up before because the premise or plot didn't grab us? 

While some reviewers are impossible to please, others are too rah-rah. Read enough reviews, though, and it's possible to get a good feel for a sundress--or a book.

Wish me luck shopping!

Your turn: Do you read reviews? How much or how little do they influence you? Do you refuse to consider a certain color of garment or a certain genre of book? What was the last book that surprised you in a good way?

He Kissed a Kitten

Lucky (left) and Scout (right) sitting in MY chair.

Scout, one of my cats, recently went to the vet for a routine exam. During the course of the exam, the vet kissed the cat's head and told him he was a sweet, sweet boy. Scout lapped up the attention and gave me a look that said, This is how I should be treated 24/7, Pat. Take notes.

The vet then told me a story. Years ago, a woman of about twenty brought in a kitten for its first-ever exam. The vet kissed the kitten. (Those of you with cats aren't a bit surprised. What are kittens for if not kisses and cuddles?) Anyway, the kitten's owner reacted with horror. "How can you kiss that animal? You don't know where it's been."

The vet reacted with disbelief. The woman apparently equated kissing cats to having unprotected sex. He wasn't happy leaving the kitten in the care of a person who didn't approve of displays of affection, but what could he do? He examined the animal, pronounced it healthy, and vaccinated it. 

The young woman never returned to the practice, and the vet was glad. He thought about the kitten from time to time and hoped it was okay.

My point, and I do have one, is that animal lovers, particularly those of us who share our homes with pets, are different than people who dislike animals.

Animal lovers share the patch of shade, the couch, and even a corner of the bed with their pets. 

We accommodate our pets' quirks and habits. For example, I no longer set the table in advance because if I do, I'll return to find a cat sitting on a dinner plate. Valentine's Day is coming, but I can't have a bouquet of flowers in the house because cats will nibble at it. At Christmas time, I don't hang ornaments on the tree's lower branches. 

One of my cats believes any unattended glass of water is meant for him. It took me a while to tumble to this fact, and when I did, I realized I'd been sharing H2O with him for months. 

The story of the kitten that had never been kissed (by its owner) haunts me. Nature makes baby animals, humans included, adorable for a reason. Their roundness, soft features, and eyes too big for their faces ensure they'll be cared for by adults. 

In fairness to the kitten's owner, she ensured the animal's healthy start with a veterinary exam. I give her props for that. As for affection, I hope the kitten got it from someone else in the household. 

Would you kiss a kitten? 

To what lengths do you go to accommodate your pets?

All Work and No Play Make Writers Dull

The Muse is hungry. Take her out for a meal.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. It doesn't do much for Jill, either. 

Writers, illustrators, composers, and other creative types are thought to toil in solitude and engross themselves in work to the point they forget to eat and sleep, never mind drive car pool, grocery shop, fix dinner, and, oh yeah, work the day job.

In "Draft," a New York Times series about writing, novelist Benjamin Nugent describes how a too-intense focus spoiled his prose. His writing improved once he threw himself into interests and amusements that fed the muse. 

If you've got a case of the guilts because you watched the Super Bowl, slipped out to see Silver Linings Playbook when you should have been researching alternative book titles, or, gasp! read a book when you could have advanced your page count, click on that article.

Writers must feed the muse, and she's a hungry beast. Luckily for us, she doesn't require three squares a day, just a reasonable number of snacks and the occasional feast. 

Last week, a friend and I took our muses to see a movie on Monday. Then, on Friday, I met up with my husband and a friend for happy-hour wine and conversation followed by a visit to a photo exhibit. Recently, I varied my walk-in-the-park route and happened upon this:

Ooh, a tasty snack for the muse

Deadline-hell weeks aside, how do you balance writing with the other demands on your time? What and how often do you feed the muse?