Whether or not I choose to read or listen to a book has absolutely nothing to do with good reviews or the number of stars assigned to it. Not to say I don’t read reviews — I actually enjoy reading them…after I’ve read the book. I’m that weirdo that closes a book I adored and marches straight to Goodreads to search out the one star reviews.

I’m not sure why I do this. Sometimes it’s to see how someone else could have possibly found fault with the masterpiece I’ve just read or heard. Or maybe one or two things bothered me about the book, and I want to see if there’s anyone else out there in agreement — sort of like being a fly on a wall in an online book club discussion.

Some of the reviews crack me up. I guess I get off on watching people get all worked up — and boy, do they get worked up. I can envision arms flailing, faces turning beet red and steam shooting out of ears. Why? I never can understand why people are so bitter in reviews. It’s as if they are angry at the author for wasting their time and don’t realize that the author is an actual live person with feelings. Would these angry reviewers confront these authors at a party and say the same things? Probably some of them would. But I’m guessing many would not.

It’s all so subjective, and we’re all so different. I could not get into Silver Linings Playbook to save my life, but clearly the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences along with most of the rest of the movie-going population would disagree with me. But I’ll watch Death to Smoochy for the umpteenth time and love every minute of it.

I’ve always had difficulty writing an unfavorable review and especially do now that I write books myself. Even if I thought a book was the worst thing ever written, I’d never get online and scathe that book because now I know how much hard work goes into even the worst of books. It’s easier to feel okay about slamming a really popular book because you feel like that author has been well compensated and is SO totally out there for review. But billionaire or not, even those people bleed when they are cut.

So when I love a book, I give it five stars. If I don’t, I just shut up about it. I know people argue that I’m not contributing to the greater good, being honest so I can help others make buying decisions. But who’s to say my trash isn’t their treasure or vice versa? Because come on, name me one other person who loves Death to Smoochy.