Dear One-Star Bob (or Karen): Let's Talk.

(A Heartfelt – and Slightly Furious – Message from an Indie Author)

Yes one star reviews happen and they can actually be helpful! Sometimes we even deserve them...ouch!

One Star Reviews from the Reaper

Okay, let's get this out of the way upfront. If your actual name is Bob or Karen, please understand that this isn't about you, personally. Not unless, of course, you're the specific "one-star bandit" I'm addressing. In which case, yes, this is about you. I love and hate reviews. Sometime I even take a big breath before reading them. I appreciate reviews and learn from them. I feel that they can help me do a better job at writing the stories I desperately want to write. Thank you so much!

For everyone else, Bob and Karen are archetypes. They represent that particular breed of reviewer who seemingly wakes up each day with a singular mission: to drop a single star on someone's creation, often with a comment so devoid of constructive criticism, it makes you wonder if they're trying to prove how clever they are, or if they just had a really bad morning. I feel that these reviews can ruin an author sometimes unfairly; like the grim reaper of bad reviews!

Honestly I see these bad reviews for other authors...not just me. These people post on Instagram and social media sites boasting about how they strive to leave bad reviews. How can we learn from these types of reviews.

Seriously, who appointed you the self-anointed gatekeeper of literary perfection? Are you trying to impress us with your superior intellect? Did someone spill your kombucha?

The Review That Broke the Camel's Back

And yes, there's usually a specific review that tips us indie authors over the edge. For me, it was this little gem:

"This needs a proofreader" or "The story may not be for everyone, definitely not young adults." "There is a typo..." "Can this author even read?" " This is Artificial Intelligence garbage!!!"

Thanks, Bob/Karen. Really, truly, from the bottom of my weary, over-caffeinated soul: Thank you for absolutely nothing.

Let's unpack this, shall we?

For the reviewer that asks if I read, "Yes 1000's of books!"

To the Reviewer Who Questioned My Reading Habits

Ah, yes. Today's delightful nugget of feedback comes from a reviewer who, with the delicate touch of a seasoned literary critic and the discerning eye of a seasoned scholar, posed the profound question: "Do you even read?"

To this, my dear interlocutor, I offer a response that I hope is as clear as it is comprehensive.

Yes. Yes, I do. In fact, I've read so thoroughly, so voraciously, so utterly and absurdly much that when I look back, it's less a curated library and more a towering, Shakespearean-levels-of-prolific literary Everest. Think less "a few dusty tomes" and more "a small, highly educated nation's worth of paperbacks." We're talking thousands, my friend. Thousands upon thousands of words, worlds, and wonderful ideas that have, I assure you, made their way past my eyeballs and, dare I say, even into my brain.

Now, as to who appointed you my academic overlord, grading my intellectual consumption like a particularly picky Elizabethan pageant director, that remains a mystery for the ages. Perhaps you have a direct line to the Ministry of Literary Merit? Or maybe you just have a really, really good algorithm that flags anyone who dares to express an opinion without submitting a bibliography?

Rest assured, while your assessment of my reading habits was… unique, my academic credentials are also, shall we say, rather robust. For your perusal (and perhaps to quell any lingering doubts about my ability to process the written word), I hold two Master's Degrees, both earned with Honors. That's right, not one, but two academic gauntlets thrown down and triumphantly picked up, adorned with the shimmering ribbons of distinction. These weren't just "attended lectures and scribbled notes" situations. These were fueled by late nights, copious amounts of caffeine, and yes, let me repeat for emphasis, an enormous amount of reading.

So, while I appreciate your… vigilance… in ensuring the intellectual integrity of this platform, I can confidently say that my literary diet is – and has always been – anything but sparse. My bookshelf groans under the weight of my reading, and my thinking cap is well-worn from the sheer volume of intellectual engagement.

Perhaps next time, instead of questioning my reading habits, you might consider the possibility that the author you're critiquing has simply read more than you'd anticipate. It’s a wild thought, I know. But then again, so is challenging someone's literacy with the casual air of a benevolent dictator of bookworms.

Next up on the list!

"This needs a proofreader." Guess what? I didn't ask you to be my proofreader. My book isn't a pop quiz for your red pen. Do errors slip through? Absolutely. We're human. We try our best. But a blanket statement like that, often delivered without a single example, is neither helpful nor insightful. It's just… dismissive. Guess what, the so called publisher and editor put the stamp of approval on that one. Mistakes happen and forgive me for not READING it sooner. I thought the proofreader was better at this...after all it is their job.

Somehow the chapters were fed into an artificial intelligence proof reading something or other and the names were changed to all the same name (too funny), the dog was a chameleon that changed colors and somewhere along the lines the eyes missed it. For the reviewer that pointed out the 47 millionth time the color of eyes were mentioned. Even I, (eye) couldn't stand it. I was off planning a wedding and thought I paid the publisher to complete a full edit, and content review. I know that I missed things in editing. I trusted they would fix everything. But my dog and characters underwent a metamorphoses while I was saying, "I do" and I assure you that I wasn't the one that changed the story.

HAHAHA they broke it...I didn't proofread the proofreader and that was a horrible mistake that can be fixed. Hopefully it was. Hopefully I did. Honestly proofreading can be different in the eyes of the beholder...no pun intended.

I digress, let's move on. "The story may not be for everyone, definitely not young adults." Hold your horses, Bob/Karen. When did I ever claim my book was for young adults? Did you see "YA" stamped on the cover? Was it marketed in the teen section? No? Then why are you reviewing it as if it should be?

And here's the kicker: Apparently, the offensive content that makes it "definitely not young adult" material is a scene where an adult couple passionately kisses.

Seriously? A passionate kiss between adults is your benchmark for offensive content? If the very notion of consensual adult affection sends you into a pearl-clutching frenzy, may I gently suggest you stick to genres specifically marketed as "Christian fiction" or perhaps children's books? Because the vast, vast majority of adult fiction will likely contain, well, adult situations. And sometimes, those situations involve kissing. Passionately. Because adults do that.

The Grinding Reality of the Indie Author

Here's the unvarnished truth, One-Star Bob/Karen, and for anyone else who thinks dropping a single star is just a harmless click:

Independent authors don't have the luxury of a massive publishing house team. We are not just writers.

Oh no, honey. We are:

Writers: Crafting the story, pouring our hearts out.

Editors: Trying our absolute damnedest to catch every typo, every awkward sentence.

Proofreaders: Reading it again and AGAIN until our eyes bleed.

Researchers: Diving deep into obscure facts.

Illustrators (or Art Directors): Designing or commissioning our covers.

Formatters: Making sure the ebook and print versions actually look like books.

Publishers: Handling all the backend details, ISBNs, distribution.

Marketers: Screaming into the void of social media to get anyone, anyone, to notice our work.

Social Media Experts: Trying to figure out TikTok trends, Instagram algorithms, and Twitter drama.

Video and Marketing Experts: Fumbling with Canva and iMovie to create promo clips.

Publicists: Sending out emails to bloggers and reviewers, hoping for a kind word.

Accountants: Trying to make sense of royalties (spoiler: it's usually not much).

We chose this life, yes. We love telling stories. We pour our souls, our savings, our sleepless nights into these creations. We learn, we grow, we invest. We try. And then, along comes the One-Star Bob/Karen with a review that offers nothing but a thinly veiled insult, proving only that they either didn't understand the book, didn't bother to check its intended audience, or are simply using it as a platform for their own perceived intellectual superiority. For the reviewers that boast about how low you rate books and the books you swear are written by AI. Please do the world a favor get a fucking job.

So, please. The next time you're about to unleash your inner Bob or Karen, pause. Ask yourself: Is this feedback genuinely constructive? Does it help other readers? Or is it just a digital drive-by, aimed at tearing down someone's hard work with a single, thoughtless click?

We're not asking for five stars every time. We're asking for respect, for understanding, and for a modicum of thought before you publicly dismiss someone's blood, sweat, and tears with a single click.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another ten hats to wear before I can even think about writing the next chapter. And yes, I'll be running it through a proofreader. Again.