The setting is Sam’s Club (or Costco, or BJs or whatever your local box store is). A women in rubber gloves stands behind a cart handing out free samples to the many shoppers strolling through the aisles.

“Would you like to taste a free sample of our Spicy Mongolian Beef?” she asks a passerby.

After the shopper eats the sample, the employee hands her a pencil and form. “Would you please rate this sample on a scale of 1 to 5 where 1 is you didn’t like it at all and 5 is you would recommend it to all your friends?”

The shopper responds with a rating of 1 and hands the form back.

“Can you tell me why you rated the free sample of Spicy Mongolian Beef a 1?” the employee asks.

“Well, first of all it was much too small. I mean, why bother eating it at all? It’s not worth the time and effort. Then, it was spicy. I hate spicy food. And finally, it was beef. I never eat beef. I only eat chicken and pork.”

Ridiculous, you say? The shopper was clearly told it was a free sample (in other words “small”) of spicy beef, so why would she judge it so harshly based on her own personal preferences?

Surprisingly this exact scenario happens daily to myself and all of my author friends. No, we don’t moonlight at Sam’s Club as the Sample Lady, but we do give away our stories for free sometimes so readers can get a taste of what our writing is like. The hope is that through the free sampling they will find they enjoy our style or our characters and seek out more of our work to purchase.

It works. I’ve gotten lots of fan mail from people who downloaded one of my free reads, loved it, and wanted to know where to find more of my work, or simply wanted to thank me for writing it. On the other hand, check out the reader reviews of any free read on Amazon.com, Barnesandnoble.com or allromanceebooks.com and you will see dozens of reader reviews that echo the above Sam’s Club shopper’s comments almost verbatim.

“It was much too small. I mean, why bother [reading] it at all? It’s not worth the time and effort.” I’ve seen this comment for short stories where the word count is clearly marked and it is obviously a short story. And remember, it was FREE.

“It was spicy! I hate spicy food.” Substitute  the words “There was sex in it! I never read erotic romance” and you’ve pretty much got what I’ve read in many reviews by readers of sweet romance who downloaded an erotic romance simply because it was free.

“It was beef. I never eat beef. I only eat chicken and pork.” You can substitute the above “erotic” scenario for this one too, but also things like “It was contemporary and I only read historical.” Or “it had vampires and I never read paranormal.” You get the picture.

The absolute most mind boggling is when they rate it a 1 and leave a review saying, “I didn’t bother reading it because of the other bad reader reviews.” Can you imagine the fall out if the NY Times food critic rated a restaurant without ever eating there? It is absolutely unimaginable, but I read that exact reader review last night on BN.com.

Why does this happen?

It’s one of the great mysteries of the literary world. In fact at my Borders Books signing last Saturday, the other 4 authors and I spent a considerable amount of time discussing the phenomenon.

Here are my theories on the subject… I think many people will take anything that’s free no matter what it is. Because of that, our work is being consumed by customers who would never and should never have been our readers normally.

I also think that when it takes some time and effort (like in the old days of snail mail) only those who feel extremely strongly about something, good or bad, will leave a review, but all those in the middle don’t bother. That said, nowadays eRetail sites are making it easy to leave a rating with just one click which results in the high number of reviews that span 1-5 with no rhyme or reason.

Let me daydream for a moment about the perfect world and rewrite the Sam’s Club scene. In my scene, the shopper writes, “I did not enjoy this free sample of Spicy Mongolian Beef. Though perhaps other might enjoy it, it was not to my taste because I don’t like spicy food and I don’t eat beef.”

Or perhaps, she shouldn’t take it and eat it in the first place? Nah, now I’m just talking crazy!

Cat

His issue as a chef was this… famous food critics who write restaurant reviews for publications such as the NY Times are, well, famous. Given that, every one of his 5 restaurants had the photo of the reviewer taped behind the hostess desk so if this critic came in, (s)he would get the highest quality of service from both the waitstaff as well as the kitchen, thereby kind of defeating the purpose. Reviews are supposed to tell the rest of us everyday folks what to expect from our visit, but alas, we are not famous and won’t get treated as such.

Then there’s Zagats, that famed restaurant review book people shell out good money to purchase to make an informed decision about choosing a restaurant. Did you know that anyone in the world can submit a Zagat’s review, regardless of qualification or personal agenda? I didn’t until he told me.

Apparently reviews were a hot enough topic for him to want to devote his space in that magazine to it. At the time I wasn’t writing full time, so it wasn’t until recently that I realized the irony of this subject he chose. Reviews, you see, are also the bane of every author’s existence.

It is a double edges sword. You want reviews, you NEED reviews, to get your name out there in the public. However, as the title of this post indicates, people’s opinions differ greatly. Watch any movie review team on TV and you will see one critic describe how he loved a film while his partner tells why (s)he hated the exact same movie.  How is that useful to the consumer? I’m not exactly sure except that the movie is being brought to their attention.

Then there are the reader reviewers in this crazy book biz I’m in. Reader reviews are kind of the equivalent of Zagat’s reviews. You don’t know who the reviewer is, or what the qualifications are, or what particular ax they may have to grind that day. In any case, just like the professional reviewers, readers will have their own opinions and view a book with eyes colored by their very personal experiences and feelings.

Knowing that, you would think we authors would take reviews with a grain of salt. The reality is I can get 100 good reviews but it is that 1 bad one that sticks with me. That is my own problem. What is not within my control to fix however, is how often review systems are flawed. Case in point, Amazon.com’s reader reviews. Here you can rate a book with stars (1 for bad, 5 for excellent) and also write a commentary review. Recently there has been a big controversy going on with books vs. eBooks regarding availability and pricing. Readers and authors are the ones most affected by this mess, but it is the publisher and the reseller in control of the situation. However, disgruntled readers have turned to giving books bad reviews to express their displeasure with the pub/reseller decisions. They could love the book, but will give it a 1 star because they are mad it is priced too high, or not available in kindle format. Unfair to the author but readers say they have no other forum to express their displeasure.In the old days, they would have likely put pen to paper and written a letter of complaint (you remember pen and paper, from grandma’s days?) But now Amazon puts that handy dandy star rating right there for you and you can complain with just one click of a mouse and then move on with your busy day… You see the issue.

Then there is the anonymity of the internet which leads people to believe that common courtesy is no longer necessary.  The internet is not a filter. It is also not one of those interrogation rooms where the reader is behind the one-way glass in a soundproof room where the author can’t see or hear them. Comments made are public and yes, authors see them.

So, what? Where does this leave us? I don’t have the answers. Chefs, actors, writers, artists… we all need the reviews for word of mouth, which as we know is the best form of advertising, and we all wear the scars from those reviews. Perhaps we need thicker skin. Maybe I need to tattoo the title of this post on my arm for when I stumble upon a negative opinion. Or I have to simply remember that reviews, good or bad, mean someone took precious time to not only read but also to write about little old me and my book, and for that I am most grateful.

Until next time.

Cat

I suppose I’ve always known this to some limited extent. I’ve actually watered down some true life stories for my books because the truth was too hard to believe. Just the other night I took one look at the name of a new bull rider on the pro circuit, Stormy Wing, and said to my husband, “If I named a character that I’d get killed with criticism, but it’s this kid’s real name”.

You see the dilemma when life is so strange no one would believe it if I were to write it in a book. However, I can write it here and perhaps have someone believe me that it is the absolute, God’s honest truth.

So what was the strangeness that assaulted me last night? It was the current state of the online dating scene. My friend has decided to make online dating a second job, or at least that’s what it seems like because it takes as much time and effort as a job, and some of the men she’s encountered are real pieces of work. For instance the one with the foot fetish. To his credit he did ask her during live date one (the one and only date) if a man with a foot fetish would disturb her. She asked the same question I did when she told me… what exactly does having a foot fetish entail? I was picturing toe sucking and cringing at the fact that it’s been far too long since I’ve had a pedicure, but apparently this man enjoys his (time for some purple prose here to keep the censors at bay) ‘nether region pleasured’ by feet. I kid you not.

In another area of the net, for people who don’t want to shell out the cash for the more well known and well advertised dating sites like the foot man above did, there is Craig’s List. Apparently you can find not only used furnishings on there but also men, women, and transvestites in the Personals section. I learned some new terminology. Apparently on Craig’s List in the Casual Encounters section, “car dates” are a perfectly common thing. (I believe they are using the term ‘date’ quite loosely there.) Fair warning, keep the kids far away from that site, my eyes are still burning from some of the images I saw.

Truth truly is stranger than fiction and in the internet age, dating is, sadly, stranger still.

Cat

Anyway, that is not sexy food so why am I writing about this on the Eat Something Sexy blogs? I’ve been thinking about the years I spent at that club a lot lately. In the serendipitous way things sometimes work out, my old bar manager from the club just found me on Facebook, and with him came a whole slew of new FB friends from among the old crew I used to work with. That, just as the story I wrote and set at the country club is about to release. Funny, isn’t it? And now, being the promo ‘ho I am, I am engaging in a blog tour to promote the story because Private Lies (my country club story) is part of All Romance eBooks’ 28 Days of Heart series, and all proceeds from the 28 eBooks (released one each day in February) will go to benefit the American Heart Association. So I’ve been writing blog posts for about 2 days straight now. In fact, with blog posts dancing in my sleepless head, I rose at 430 am this morning and here I am with you now.

Anyway, the point of this predawn ramble is this–I’ve been thinking a lot about that club and how it formed who I am today and I can honestly say it changed the kind of cook and the kind of diner I am. No, I’m not talking about the chocolate mousse made from powered mix Chef Fred (picture Gordon Ramsey with a German accent) used to literally throw at us when he was angry. I’m talking about the good stuff, the stuff kept in the back. Because just like how all the best stuff happening at that club was behind the scenes, out of view of the average old man tottering in to have me refresh his Dewars on the rocks (lots of Dewars, not so many rocks), the best food was also in the back.

Paco, Johnny and the kitchen crew that worked beneath the lunatic head chef all came from the same village in Mexico. In the winter they lived a warm, carefree life in Mexico. If you wanted to reach them, you had to call the phone located in the store in town. One of them would usually be hanging out there playing dominoes. But in the summer all the men of that town would fly north to New York and live in the rooms upstairs in the clubhouse while working at the club and earning enough money to send back to their families and live on the entire year.

And with them came some of the best food I’ve ever had the pleasure of partaking in. It was a lucky staff member who stumbled upon the food that Paco or Johnny cooked up. It was at the club where I learned to love and make Pico de Gayo (loosely translated that is ‘the rooster’s peck’ because this dish has a kick). You could throw anything at these guys and they’d make a feast of it. After the club fishing trip, guess who cooked up the Bluefish? The greenskeeper accidentally hit a deer with his car, yeah, that got turned into stew. Fresh tomatoes from Sam the locker room attendant’s garden? They threw chopped jalepeno peppers and oil in a big bowl with the tomato wedges, someone brought in a fresh italian bread and we’d all sit around the table, and the bowl, dipping and eating with our lips burning but never happier. I was on the bar crew and when we were lucky, we’d have fresh Guacomole and homemade salsa on the bar, though I’m sure I ate more than the patrons.

There were a few club members in the know. They’d bypass the coffee shop server and head straight back to where Paco was working on the line and say, “I want what YOU guys are eating.” Smart man because as I learned during those summers, the good stuff is always kept in the back.

Cat

What is most interesting is I think it is the opposite for my friend the chef. I know when he is stressed, he goes outside and works in the yard, or cleans the house, or replaces all the nails in the sheetrock with woodscrews instead…you get the idea. I guess for him, anything besides what he does for a living is his escape.

Anyway, that was my epiphany this new year. I’ve also begun an attempt to be more healthy. My friend’s family had quite a few cancer scares last year and since she has become a healthy living guru. Consequently I have gotten numerous lectures about how the artificial sweetener and creamer I prefer in my morning coffee is going to kill me. I’m not promising that I’ll reform totally but I have taken a step. I purchases a Keurig milk frother. The thing was insanely expensive but since I had a coupon and it was the week before Christmas, I treated myself to a gift. It heats and froths non-fat milk into beautiful, creamy peaks that turns coffee into a latte worthy of Starbucks, and for way cheaper. I’ve also made Chai Tea Latte at home with it. Considering the crazy prices at coffee shops nowadays, I probably paid for it already and I have to say, it feels truly decadent to have such a beautifully indulgent cup of coffee while still in my pajamas.

Yes, coffee can be sexy!

So that is my ’state of the author’ address for this new year. I’m resolving to write every day, but also to give myself a mental break when I need it; treat myself to the good things in life (IE $80 frothers and tasty lattes); and yes, until my stress level lowers there will be lots of cooking.

Until next time,

Cat

So I got Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child for Christmas. It’s 684 pages, not counting all the index pages in the back which are numbered with Roman numerals that I can’t decipher because I went to public school. This tome weighs a good ten pounds and though I far outweigh it, it is intimidating the hell out of me.

It’s my own fault, really. When my mother called from the bookstore weeks ago and asked if I would like it for Christmas I said yes. Why? Because I love a good story and the story that surrounds this book of late is a great one.

Julie Powell back in August of 2002 decided to not only cook her way through this book, all 536 recipes in 365 days while holding down a real job, but also to blog about it in what she named ‘The Julie/Julia Project”. But that isn’t the story that gets me, it’s what happens next. She turned that year-long blog into a book, and that book became the Meryl Streep, Amy Adams movie “Julie & Julia” that everyone is talking about. Being a writer, publication stories like that fascinate me. So much so I have googled my tushy off and found the original 2002 blog, and I am reading my way through it, day by day, and totally enjoying it.

Julie is normal. She screws up the recipes, and then tells us about how when that happens, she just adds more butter and cream to try and fix it. She drops the f-word liberally, as anyone would while taking on such a monumental challenge. She calls it like she sees it, wondering at the craziness around her, such as the raw food movement that hits during her cooking experiment, or that she couldn’t find swiss cheese in her regular food store in Brooklyn but she could buy imported Fontina.

I anticipate I will enjoy her real-life blog musings far more than what I am sure is a sanitized for mainstream publishing, edited version that hit the bookshelves. She already hinted at that in the comment that the book title (Julie & Julia) is boring, the result of an editorial battle lost. And don’t we authors know all about that–choose your battles.

No, I have no plans what so ever in this lifetime to repeat Julie’s project, but I do hope to challenge myself with a few of these recipes. Looking through the book, the first thing to cross my mind was how outdated it seemed to my modern cook’s eye. I learned to cook during the dawn of olive oil, and microwaves. Julia Child wrote this book in 1961, and it is more than obvious her two favorite ingredients are butter and heavy cream.

Yet a lot of what Julia Child writes makes sense, such as when she warns against the temptation to use the food processor to blend your potato leek soup. She’s right, that one appliance means the difference between what ends up being more like runny mashed potatoes rather than a hearty soup where the potatoes and leeks are still recognizable.

I suppose if I take away a few techniques and basics, it will only help me in everything I cook. If nothing else, it will be a lesson in humility. Let’s just hope I am strong enough to withstand such a lesson. I have to wonder about that as I ignore daily the container full of cookies that I screwed up but still refuse to throw away. Who I think is going to eat them is beyond me, they taste bad and look worse, but there they sit, waiting on the counter. Perhaps humility is what both Julie and Julia are meant to teach me.

I will keep you informed of both the failures and the successes.

Humbly,

Cat