Today's been a funny day so far. I woke up feeling a little draggy. These days, I get up at 5:30am so I can have a few minutes with my son before driving him to the train station. It takes him a train and a bus, and an hour and a half, to get to school so neither of us are particularly cheerful first thing.
But it's a time to cherish nonetheless, and I'm mindful that these days are precious. Anyway, while waiting for the coffee to brew, I skimmed the sites that I imagine many authors review when they sit down to work each day, seeing what's new in social media and what's going on with one's books, as though anything significant could have happened since the last time I peeked (come on, y'all, we're all obsessive; might as well admit it). And I discovered a brand new scathing reader review of a recent book of mine, much the way I used to wander downstairs in the morning and discover dismembered mouse corpses left by a cat I once owned.
(Does it surprise anyone to know that a Littlefield cat would amass an impressive body count?)
Anyway, before I could even process this little gem, I saw that a post I read a while back for Adventures in YA Publishing also went live today. And it was exactly the reminder I needed. Reviews are exactly as significant as I allow them to be.
From the post: "I learned to judge my work by the only standard that matters. Instead of letting negative criticism crush my spirit, I silence those voices and get back to the words."
Read the full text, as well as lots of other useful and amusing commentary from the folks at Adventures in YA Publishing :) - here.