Today we’re having a mid-season holiday dinner with our older son’s former neighbors.

When Matt  died, his neighbors across the corridor offered to take in his dog, Moose, until we could get down to Birmingham to pick him up and bring him home. These kind souls not only took in Moose, but they boarded their own dog at a kennel to accommodate a near-stranger’s pet. They took him to their veterinarian to get some tranquilizers to ease the poor pup’s distress. After we brought Moose home, they sent gifts for the dog and for us.

It really brought home our dependence upon the kindness of strangers.

In October, I finally had the honor and pleasure of meeting Cheyenne and Tyler for the first time. I didn’t quite know what to expect. They’re unlike our boy with tattoos and free spirits. But these two young adults brim with kindness and compassion and I am eternally grateful to them.

So, we’ve essentially adopted them.

Cheyenne and Tyler moved to Columbus, Ohio in July and have no family here. We’re stepping up as their “Ohio mom and dad.” I want to be their go-to resource for support. If they need anything, I want them to contact us. We not only owe them for their kindness, but we like them as people, too.

Matt couldn’t have asked for better neighbors.

So, today we’re celebrating the holidays as their busy schedules allow. I’m cooking dinner: roast duck, mushroom risotto, baked squash, and green beans. The china and stemware have been washed. We’ll use Aunt Josie’s glasses for water and Grandma Wacek’s silver plate silverware. These two young people are now our family and we will use our family’s fine dinnerware in honor of them.

Photo by Jed Owen on Unsplash.

In the movie Grease, Sandy reminisces about her evening with greaser Danny Zuko. Her clique of friends respond with, “Tell me more!” I have much the same reaction when reading book reviews.

I occasionally check the reviews of my own books. It’s not just a way to torment myself or seek validation, it’s also a way to pick out what readers like or dislike about my stories. Their comments inform me. Sometimes, I ignore their gripes, especially if that reader’s one review is an outlier offset by a preponderance of opposite reviews. That happened with Daughter of the Twin Moons. One reader loathed the heroine.

I admit to being taken aback by that, but she’s entitled to her opinion. I also appreciate her taking the time to explain the negative rating. I learn from such explanations and factor what I learn into future stories.

Of course, I love when readers praise my work. What author doesn’t? What author doesn’t crave more such praise and validation? Russian Lullaby recently receive three very nice reviews. The readers leaving those reviews didn’t go in to detail, but their short comments were complimentary.

When deciding whether to purchase (or download) a book, I look for detail in reader reviews. Some (usually negative) reviews are vastly entertaining, probably better than the books themselves. I pay detailed reviews credence: these are readers who can and do explain why they did or did not like a particular story. I evaluate those reviews.

I often discount reviews that complain of explicit content or profanity. In the genres I read, such content or vulgarity is to be expected. However, when a reader notes that the F-word is grossly overused or that there’s little to no plot connecting sex scenes, I do take those into consideration. It’s a matter of degree. However, if a reader gives a book a 1-star review because a character takes the Lord’s name in vain once or twice, then I ignore the review, because saying “OMG” or some other, spelled-out variation is realistic and I prize realism in the escapist literature I read.

Contrary, I know.

Some readers automatically assign a negative review to any book that ends on a cliffhanger. I can understand that, especially when there’s no mention of that cliffhanger in the book’s description. The reader feels duped by receiving a partial story and being forced to fork over additional money to finish the story. Some authors do use cliffhangers as a money grab: They charge $0 or $0.99 for the first installment, then $4.99 or more for each additional installment until the reader has paid considerably more for the entire story in installments than he or she would have if purchasing a single printed book.

I find that infuriating and deceitful.

Reviews lambasting a book for rampant grammatical errors and/or poor writing count highly in my decision whether to get that book. My “to be read” pile is overwhelming enough that I don’t need to waste my time on substandard content. Reviews that complain of protagonists who are too stupid (or stubborn) to life also get my attention. Human frailty is allowed, even welcomed, in character development, but abject idiocy is not. If the protagonist has a fatal flaw, I like to know that the character can be redeemed. A good story arc encompasses character growth. In my novella The Barbary Lion, the protagonist (an anti-hero) gets his comeuppance and, in the end, negotiates with his one true love. What makes that ending acceptable after the way he has treated her is his one enduring trait of keeping his word no matter what.

People in real life as well as characters in books make bad decisions and/or behave poorly, but do they learn from the consequences of their poor choices or bad behavior?

If you leave a review, however, please explain it. Others who may purchase that book want to know why you did or did not like it. Reviews without explanations are worthless. I discredit them entirely when considering a purchase. Reviews need not be exhaustive–I seldom write long, detailed reviews–but they should be honest. Simply indicating you liked (or didn’t like) something gives a stranger no reason to allow your review to influence his or her decision. If you want to be useful or helpful to potential readers and/or authors …

Tell them why.

#bookreviews #hollybargobooks #opinion

Not only do I write romance, I read it. Avidly. One thing I’ve noticed over the decades is a decided departure from traditional values. Being rather old-fashioned myself, I find that disturbing.

The particular trope that annoys me is promiscuity. All too often I read a book description that begins with the heroine seeking her next one night stand. Hopping from bed to bed with a variety of partners is, apparently, not an issue. It’s a character trait, like a nervous tic or a hot temper.

I beg to differ. Promiscuity is behavior and behavior can be controlled.

In a novel I recently read, the heroine is “neurodivergent” undergrad and has had a few sexual liaisons prior to the beginning of the story. She found them disappointing, using her past bed partners to scratch an itch rather than because she felt any affection toward them. It’s an attitude and behavior in women (female characters) that I find as offensive in men (male characters). That kind of promiscuity is just people using each other to get their jollies. Such behavior and attitude reduce human characters to their base instincts and desires. Two wrongs don’t make a right.

In that book, the heroine is powerfully attracted to her professor’s teaching assistant. He returns her affection, but resists her attempts to seduce him because … get this … he’s got integrity. When she questions him on his failure to succumb, he again points out that the power imbalance between them forbids intimacy and tells her, “It’s called restraint.”

Hallelujah! 

Restraint is what’s missing from too many of the characters in modern romance. That lack self-control shows a lack of respect for oneself and for others. It’s a “do what feels good when it feels good” attitude with an expectation of zero consequences, no matter whom the action might hurt.

Which makes me wonder in such books as to why there’s always surprise when someone gets pregnant. Really? You haven’t figured out that’s how babies are made?

That, of course, leads me to the next annoyance: the “secret baby” trope. Of course, it usually occurs after a single encounter, a passionate one night stand. Often the resulting single mother is struggling financially but won’t contact the baby daddy for financial assistance. In reality, this is stupid. There’s no determination by the mother to ensure the father takes responsibility for his part in creating that baby.

Yes, I understand the trope is the catalyst for getting the bed-hopping parents back together for a happily-ever-after ending, but I don’t understand the heroine’s reluctance to force the hero to admit to the consequences of their promiscuity.

Like I said: I’m old-fashioned.

In my books, sexual relationships occur within committed relationships or at least where there’s affection. Sex is far too intimate an act to be casual and dismissed as without consequence, even if it doesn’t result in pregnancy. It smacks of believing oneself unworthy of commitment or a deeper relationship: one is only good for temporary amusement. That’s where the lack of self-respect comes into play. If you don’t believe you deserve respect and courtesy, then you’ll be content with poor treatment.

Gender equality doesn’t give one gender leave to treat the other as a disposable convenience. It’s reprehensible when men do that to women and just as bad when women treat men like that: without respect.

Perhaps we need a return to those old-fashioned values.