The question for any writer when faced with criticism is simple - having restrained yourself from homicide what should you do next?
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Eviscerate them in fiction. This is the preferred choice ever since a popular Archean female singing trio dismissed the Iliad as a trite war story and ended up being depicted as murderous women headed birds. Try to keep it in proportion though; Micheal Creighton portrayed one of his critics as a child rapist with a tiny penis which is overkill, everybody knows that on the sliding scale of fictional evisceration a bad review merits a horrible death (real or social depending on genre) - they'd have to be something personal involved to get me up to Creightonian levels.
So remember my fellow writers: kill em in fiction, is cheaper, less likely to get you arrested and almost as much fun as the real thing.(1)
(1) If it isn't you are not a writer but a psychopath please report to your local mental health institution and turn yourself in.
1 comment:
So, dare one ask who's got a minor but spectacularly messy role in your latest opus? It could be an incentive for anyone who knows 'em to want to buy it... =:o}
In other, similarly dark, news, I hereby pimp a seasonable ditty (two days late, of alas) by Talis Kimberley:
http://talis-kimberley.livejournal.com/27879.html
Shiver and enjoy!
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