Total tripe. Author’s friends are giving him five stars. He’s a total fake.
Lazy . . . completely unsatisfying . . . worst book ever . . . no stars . . . free books are better than this . . . worst book I’ve ever read . . . how did this rubbish ever get published . . . couldn’t have been more wrong, bored me to tears . . . worst book I’ve ever read . . . ‘convaulted’ (but must have meant convoluted) . . . gave up halfway, gave it to a charity shop . . . one of the worst books I’ve ever read . . . rubbish . . . waste of time . . .
The reviews had piled up on Goodreads and Amazon, all penned by his old enemy who went by names that were now so tediously familiar: goddess50, hindererfolk, phakerevealer, crookidityidity62, sixthsenser, keirosmaster, parasoma_guru, arosoma+mage, vastjetblacknessboy, praiserofnothingness, extremelyrelaxedsleeper, perceptualmaestro, weightlessness&freedom, nonexistanttravellar, terminationofliars, hazzardouscognition, vitalvehicle, summerlandman.
Seb had mostly stopped caring about bad reviews years before, and mainly because he’d stopped reading them. He found they taught him little about his books other than that they confounded many expectations, or were simply not to the taste, or even sophistication, of some readers. And their taste was often mistaken for an arbitrating authority on quality. Many commentators appeared to want attention at any cost. The need to be heard and acknowledged the motive. Others were just unstable.
A glance at the new crop of stinkers revealed the traits of the hater that his books had mostly encountered over the last two years. He’d assumed the sock-puppeteer was an undiscovered writer. User names often changed, but the puppeteer still occasionally littered his reviews with literary terms, as if possessing some expertise, or believing that he did, while attempting to adopt an ordinary voice to disguise a more knowledgeable status.
The earlier reviews had been composed more carefully. There had been some affectation of erudition and attempts at wit. But the author now repeated himself with hyperbole, and with the telltale emphasis of ‘ever’ and the four exclamation marks. The juvenile toilet analogies were repeated as imagination failed and the fatigue from repetition set in. These notices were shorter and shriller.
The puppeteer had roared for two years, but Seb had work to do and readers who waited.
His agent and publisher had complained to the retailers and review sites favoured by the puppeteer, but these days, who had the staff to deal with the great numbers of people who passed through and left their graffiti everywhere? Even bad reviews suffered from discovery hell.
‘What you doing?’ Becky stood in the doorway. She looked ashen and tired and was wearing his gown. Her feet were bare, her hair tousled.
‘My agent called me. My number one fan is back.’
‘Oh,’ she said distractedly. ‘How many this time?’
‘Triple figures.’
‘New book?’
‘Yep, taking the ratings down to one star overall.’
‘Can I make coffee?’ she asked and Seb suffered the impression that Becky was no longer listening.
‘I’ll make it. I’ll get us some breakfast too. I have some rolls. Bacon and eggs.’
She smiled and asked him if he’d slept.
‘Barely.’
‘Snap.’
‘Why? Sexual frustration and hysteria after my floundering yesterday afternoon?’
‘Stop fishing. That was no big deal. I think I just had the worst dream of my entire life.’
Seb had to swallow. ‘Dream?’ He didn’t add me as well, but his surprise at Becky’s admission was tinged with the reckless excitement that precedes a corroboration of the unlikely.
Becky mock-shuddered her shoulders. ‘Really weird. I don’t want to remember the bits that are still fresh. I’m off seafood for a bit, that’s for sure.’
Seb followed her into the living room and took to the kitchen reluctantly. He was desperate to know what had upset her in the night. But he didn’t want to rush her and felt that this wasn’t the time, so they proceeded to eat the toasted rolls, coffee, juice, bacon and eggs when they were ready. He knew she liked the fare as an occasional treat, and only when she was away from home.