Sock Puppets, Scandals and Stars, Oh My!

My first one-star review appeared on Amazon today. The author, called “tealover,” took exception to many things. You can read the review easily on Amazon, so I won’t repost it here.

The point to me is, I’m now OFFICIALLY AN AUTHOR because somebody hates me, hates my work, can’t understand why I ever got published in the first place, and has taken the time to try and find really insightful ways of saying so.

Which means I have Made It. In with the bricks, me. I am someone other people actually care to spend their time trying to grab by the ankles and pull down.

WHOOHOO!

Seriously, of course it’s annoying when people don’t get you, and it sucks when people really write bad reviews to try and take the wind out of a new author’s sales (check out tealover’s other reviews and you might see a pattern emerging) but c’est la modern vie. We can say what we think–or what we want other people to think–and take no responsibility for it. And bless his/her heart, maybe it’s making tealover feel better about life. I hope so.

Besides, in these modern times a bad review means you can prove you aren’t paying anyone to write good reviews for you, or writing them yourself as a “sock puppet.” If you don’t know about the recently-exposed scandal then Google sock puppet reviews, but in a nutshell authors sometimes create fake accounts and diss rivals’ books or five-star their own works. Yeah, it’s as ugly as it sounds, and unfortunately rather rampant. Sock puppets are part of the side effect of a review’s power on Amazon. One of the nicest things that can happen to a new author is to get a lot of reviews right after a book’s published. It means people are noticing you–for good or ill.

Remember that old chestnut that there is no such thing as bad publicity? Yeah, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but it’s true.

So, like the first grey hair; the first flight of a child from the nest; the first realization that, dammit, yes you do need bifocals, the one-star review notifies neophyte authors that we have Arrived. Or, more accurately perhaps, Launched.

Fasten your seat belts; it’s going to be a bumpy ride.  :]

Regan’s Halloween Recommendations

1951 – The Deserts of Iraq

A dashing explorer-priest is conducting a study of ancient relics when his archaeological team uncovers a statue of the Sumerian demon Pazuzu.  A confrontation with evil is inevitable.

2012 – Tales of the Lonesome Pine Bookstore

Andrew Whalen, shopsitter, is woken by clanking and rattling noises in the attic. He investigates, hoping to find Halloween decorations and not to find demons. He is disappointed on both fronts.

But as Andrew encounters the horror within he discovers that it’s not the Sumerian Pazuzu at all, but a transmigrated manifestation of Andrew’s own Netflix Instant Queue, and the horror movie that had awaited him.

This is getting complicated.

Now Andrew is possessed by the spirit of  Regan, a young girl, who is herself possessed by the demon Pazuzu and is ALSO fictional.

Phwew, this is a mess. And totally not an excuse to wear a night-gown all day and eat split-pea soup. Luckily, this particular possession arrived just in time for Halloween! And Regan has recommendations from the shelves. Take it away evil-spirit-movie-demon-girl:

While William Peter Blatty’s The Exorcist is way better, the sequel Legion has some fun moments. More police procedural than horror, it’s never as scary as the original, and has far less ME!

Full of supposedly true tales as told by truckers and motorists, the Book-on-CD Trucker Ghost Stories is occasionally chilling, but more often just plain fun.

Ok, I’ll admit. I haven’t read either of these. But I’ve heard good things about Let Me In and the Swedish film adaptation Let The Right One In is the best vampire movie since Near Dark. As for Prophecy… if it’s anything like the movie than it waffles between environmental preaching and gory silliness in the most charming and 1970s way imaginable.

And no Halloween list would be complete without creepy ol’ Mr. King, so I’m recommending his short story collection Night Shift, which includes the story that heart-attacked 13-year-old Andrew, “The Boogeyman.” Plus, there’s no better primer to horror as a genre than his nonfiction Danse Macabre.

Oh, geez. This is just so exciting. I spewed up all my demon gunk.

Happy Halloween!