Darian Ray, Who Are You?

I recently needed to track down the ISBN for September Fair. Amazon.com seemed the quickest route, so I logged on, searched for my book, scrolled down, highlighted the ISBN, pasted it where I needed it, and went on with my life.

If you’re an author, you’ve already caught the lie in the above paragraph. It’s in the last phrase: “went on with my life.” You’d have to be a superhero to leave your Amazon book page without at least skimming the reader reviews.

My self-involvement is not the point of this post, though. It’s the springboard. You see, in my skimming, I found six generous reviews and one slam. The slam was by a reviewer named Darian Ray. Stick with me. I’m going somewhere with this, and it’s not where you think.

I clicked on Darian Ray’s name to be brought to his/her other reviews. Curiosity, let’s call it, because we’re polite and don’t want to draw attention to my insecure defensiveness. What I found was that Darian is a self-proclaimed mystery author with no publications who has reviewed at least four mysteries a week since 2006 and not liked a one of them.

(Let’s take a break to acknowledge that there are legitimate reasons to post a critical review of a book, including one I’ve written. Now back to the interesting stuff.)

That’s over a thousand mysteries Darian Ray has reviewed, and apparently every one of them, from Laura Lippman’s bestseller to the little POD author trying to make a go of it, stunk to high heaven. And Ray went to Amazon.com to tell the world, sometimes daily.

I considered that maybe Ray really was a mystery author and, under a pseudonym, a mystery reviewer who thought the best way to raise his/her boat was by sinking everyone else’s. I quickly discarded that notion, though. If you’ve spent ten seconds in the mystery community, you know there is no match for its supportiveness (check out this recent article by Harlen Coben for a roundabout example of that: “Return of the Class of ‘80”).

But what explanation does that leave? Why would someone who apparently liked mysteries only slightly more than heart attacks spend so much time reading and reviewing them? (And I really think this person read them, based on the facts s/he dropped in her reviews.) And what does this say about reader reviews in general? I take them to heart when online shopping, but can they deliberately be used to harm a product or person? Are there similar stories out there, or was this an isolated case?

I appreciate your input on this because I really have spent some brain hours on it, and just can’t find a logical explanation. And as an update, I recently contacted Amazon.com to suss out the story on Darian Ray. They removed all of his/her reviews a week later, on what grounds I’m not sure.

What Do You …Or Will You…Do?

How many social or business events have you attended where someone asked, “So what do you do?” Most people respond by talking about their job and maybe segue into their hobbies. Years ago, my answer would have been, “I’m the Human Resources Director at… or I work in Marketing at …” For seven years, I said, “I’m a stay-at-home mom.” During those years, depending on how exciting my day was, I might also have answered, “I’m the laundry frau.” I doubt many children aspire to be that. I know I didn’t.

But now I’ve published my first novel, and I can say, “I’m a writer.” I never said that until I signed my publishing contract. I feared if I did people would ask if my book was finished yet or when it was going to be published and I would feel pressure. Since I wrote for my own entertainment, I didn’t want any pressure. I didn’t want to feel like I was failing in some way when I was so excited about all the words I put on paper. I didn’t want to feel like the woman who says, “We’re trying to have a baby” because, let’s face it, it’s the kind of goal either ultimately achieved—or not.

Last month, I left my family (something I hate to do) to attend Bouchercon for four days and promote For Better, For Murder. Socializing was different there. Most people could tell from the bookmarks sticking out of my name badge that I was a writer—okay, author. No one started a conversation by asking what I do or about my interests. Readers, librarians, writers, and authors abounded. Popular authors drew crowds.

During my last hour of the conference, I realized one of my preferred authors, Harlan Coben, was standing behind me, talking with some readers. When I got home, I checked out his web site and his list of appearances. He spent March in Begium, France, and New York. April in California, Texas, Missouri, Illinois, Massachusetts, New Jersey, D.C., West Virginia, Florida, and Scotland. May in England. My first thought was the man’s an international sensation and a real star. Then I wondered, did he have to be away from his wife and kids for all that time? Then I read the statement at the top of his appearance list: “Any requests should be directed to Harlan's publicity people—Harlan does not choose where he goes.” And I thought, are you saying Harlan’s given up control of his life?

Days later I read an online story about Kenny Rogers. A man paid him $4 million dollars to sing “The Gambler” at his birthday party. Who wouldn’t accept that gig? According to the story, Kenny sang it twelve times. When the man asked a thirteenth time, Kenny drew the line. Me, I would have folded after three to four requests.

So what would you give up to be an international sensation and a real star? And where would you draw the line?