Writers' Quid Pro Quo?

Us low level and/or self-published novelists have a conundrum when it comes to others of our ilk. We often swap novels, and I have swapped with a few authors now. I have been fortunate that all the novels I have received in exchange have been good books I could gush over with sincerity. We’d all like to get reviewed and we’d like those reviews to be positive, but what if I don’t like the book? Those happy days of getting good novels, days that could not last, have not. They ended yesterday, when I finished the novel of an acquaintance with whom I traded inscribed copies.

One of my intentions when I started this blog was to review new novels that get ignored, get too much—and usually undeserved—praise from the usual New York suspects, or don’t get the kind of review that is of any use to the common reader of fiction. I didn’t anticipate that I could end up reviewing books by people I might have to look in the face one day, or that those people would be in a position to publish a retributive review of my novel. Guess I should have thought of that.

I don’t have to write a review at all, of course. It wasn’t an expectation when we swapped novels. What I’d like to do is write several pages of editorial suggestions directly to the author, instead. But I fear I may be perceived as presumptuous and condescending instead of helpful. What author who has finally produced a novel—an effort and accomplishment unknown even to most who love books—wants to be told there is much work yet to be done, much left to learn about writing?

It is a first book by the author in question, and he makes many of the classic rookie mistakes: a weak protagonist who is more observer than instigator of the action; dialog used for info dumps, making it affected and unnatural; an intriguing opening with conflict and action, but little development or follow up; a protagonist that virtually disappears in the middle of the book, only to reappear late; dramatic situations that should have an emotional impact on the reader, but don’t for lack of proper set-up; scenes and characters who don’t advance the story; little or no discernible plot.

So what do I do with that? I can’t even e-mail him and say, “Loved it.” I guess I just duck him online and, if possible, in person. Worse yet, what if he liked my book? It would be easier if he hated it. Yes, I’ll root for that outcome. Although most people who have read and commented on the book have liked it, some very much so, I can hope he’ll be an exception, a deeply perceptive reader who ferrets out its many flaws. I won’t feel so bad about hating his book if he hates mine.

Trouble is, he has written wildly successful non-fiction books and has a wide readership to whom he can comment. And if he hates my novel, he may just do that. Especially if I write an honest review of his.

So this is it, my official non-review of his anonymous novel, to be shelved next to my other inscribed copies, a place of dust and honor, never to be mentioned again, with the hope that he will do the same.