On Receiving My First One-Star Rating on Amazon

Until recently, my novel, Diverging Streams, had garnered only one review on Amazon, a glowing five-star appraisal. Only one. But any book-title browsers who chanced upon my little novel would see five golden stars next to the title. They might not even notice that it reflected but a single review. But last week when I checked it, I saw to my horror a three-star average rating for the book into which I had poured my very soul and years of writing, erasing, rewriting, editing, fine-tuning, and formatting.

Now a single five-star review will not sell many books. Amazon bestows its favors on books with at least 25 good reviews—the more the better—and respectable sales. Anything less will condemn the book to the shadowed back pages where prospective purchasers seldom venture. Only readers specifically looking for that book are ever likely to see it.

But let me tell you what a three-star rating will do to a book. Whether by serendipity or purposeful search prospective book-purchasers happen upon a three-star rated book, they will have come looking for at least a four-star rating and preferably five-stars. If they see three stars adjacent to the title and thumb nail image of a book, they will casually reject it without a second glance. They will not scroll down to read the excerpts from editorial reviews. They will not read the first few pages to get the feel of the writer’s style and the substance of the story. They will not pursue it further by checking out the author’s website to see if and how many awards the book has received. They will not even follow through on the one, two, or three-star ratings to see what the reviewers disliked. A three-star rating will effectively kill any sales of the book.

When I had overcome the shock at seeing the fruit of my labors so ill-treated, I scrolled down to see what had caused the devastation and perhaps to discover the reason why—what it was that the reviewer had so disliked about the book that it warranted only one star, thereby rendering a three-star average rating. But I found no answer to my questions. The reader had left no review—had simply rated my baby and vanished without justifying or explaining the single-star rating. And I am left only to ponder the probabilities. Were the ideas I expressed or the tone of my prose somehow offensive? I have found that it is impossible to say anything of substance without offending someone’s deeply held beliefs. Or perhaps the fluidity of my phraseology had upset the reader. There is a faction among critics that loudly insists that literature must be simplified to a seventh-grade level. But more likely, the reviewer was simply one of those people who derive a pernicious pleasure from disparaging the work of others.

I have faith in my books—all of them. And I firmly believe that in time my work will receive the appreciation it deserves. Other more discerning readers will discover Diverging Streams and rate it to honestly reflect its true literary value—to bring the average star rating up to a respectable level. Though considering my advanced age, it may be futile to hope it will happen during my lifetime.