scottie

You’re looking at the painful results of a donkey-porcupine encounter.  I don’t know who started the fight, since I didn’t witness the confrontation, but I suspect my donkey Scottie was the aggressor since porcupines are inclined to scurry away from conflict while donkeys can be, well… territorial.  An infected leg and $2,000 in veterinarian bills later, Scottie was safely home and back in his paddock.  The suspect porcupine was quickly dispatched by our farm caretaker.  Yet only days later our other donkey, Spock, had porcupine quills in his legs.  Resulting in yet another trip to the vet and another hefty bill.  Although we’ve gotten rid of several porcupines since then, new ones keep showing up.  There’s no end to them.

I was reminded of porcupines when I read about author Patricia Cornwell fighting back against the multitude of bad reader reviews she’s received on Amazon.com.  In a letter on her website, she talks about a possible conspiracy against her, and asks her loyal readers to defend her by posting reviews to counteract the unfair ones.  Her request has garnered a certain amount of ridicule and laughter.  The general reaction in the blogosphere is that Cornwell is rich and famous so why does she bother to fight back?  People in her position should be immune to hurt feelings.  People with money and success should be able to shrug off any and all criticism.  

Instead of shrugging it off, she’s attacking her attackers.  Just like Spock and Scottie, she’s kicking back at her tormentors — but she’s getting stuck with the quills of ridicule because of it.

I can understand her impulse to fight back.  Many times, I’ve wanted to fire back an angry letter at a nasty reviewer.  I’ve wanted to respond to 1-star Amazon.com reviews.  I’ve thought of enlisting my readers in defending me.  But then I consider the ramifications of those actions.  You come off looking whiny and desperate.  You reveal just how sensitive — and vulnerable – you really are.

The fact is, we writers are sensitive and vulnerable to criticism.  I know I am — and it appears that Cornwell is as well. 

But we have to grit our teeth and keep smiling.  We have to resist the urge to kick those porcupines. 

Now, I’ve never met Patricia Cornwell, and I doubt she knows who I am.  But if I could write a note to her, this is what I might say:

Dear Ms. Cornwell,

you’ve written some fabulous books.  You’ve also written some books that have not been well received by your readers.  Some of their reviews have been unspeakably nasty and crueler than any novelist deserves.  Don’t give them the satisfaction of a public response.  Don’t let on that you’ve even noticed.  Because no matter what you say, no matter how justified your response may be, you will come off looking bad.  I know it’s hard to take those attacks without fighting back.  Like you, I have a tough time ignoring criticism.  Probably like you, I have fantasies of revenge.  Fantasies involving hitmen and midnight knocks on my tormentors’ doors.

But let’s both be strong, okay?  Let’s show the world we’re true professionals and above the fray. 

And if by chance you’ve already hired that hitman, tell him the plans are off.  Tell him to leave your critics alone.

Send him after mine instead.