Joseph Mailander writes:

Rodger, I’d like to see a thread on the book reviews, if you have time or inclination. Maybe net v. print, maybe which editors do a good job and which editors do not. Everywhere I go, it seems people are disappointed in book reviews, yet I rarely read any crit of them.

A good book review should be a fine piece of writing itself. When I pen my monthly 3,000-word pieces for the Deconstruction Zone column at Pop Matters I always ask myself a series of questions as I compose: Is it interesting? Does the review itself tell a story? Is my own personality as far removed from the review as possible? Am I using objective criteria to deconstruct the book? Does the review make the reader want to purchase the book?

As my deadline looms it is not uncommon to find a stack of secondary and tertiary books hovering around my computer as well as a notebook crammed full of thoughts on the book I am reviewing and several scattered notes hurriedly jotted down on grocery store receipts and slips of scrap paper. My head and notebook is also full of biographical material on the author whose work I am analyzing; in short, for about two weeks of every month I live with the title I am critiquing, particularly if I am leaning toward a favorable review.

Take my profile of Willy Vlautin, “Bleeding on the Page in the Middle of a Nervous Breakdown“, as an example:

Before interviewing Willy, I read his novel “Northline” twice (I had already read and much enjoyed his debut novel, “The Motel Life”). I listened to the original soundtrack that Willy recorded for the book endlessly, which led me, by intuiting his musical inspirations, to explore the music of Calexico, Ennio Morricone, and Bob Dylan’s “Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid” soundtrack. I also read excerpts from a Sam Shepard book, a handful of Raymond Carver stories that inspired Vlautin (in particular “So Much Water So Close to Home”), re-read the opening chapter of Leonard Gardner’s classic novel “Fat City”, and examined the short story stylings of another writer Willy admires (sorry, can’t recall who the fellow was but it may have been Frank O’Connor). I interviewed Willy three times over the phone, always informal with a pen and a yellow legal pad before me, no recording devices, and I listened to five of his albums with Portland alt-country band Richmond Fontaine. Did I mention that I absorb the expense for a great many of the peripheral reading materials if they are not available in my personal library or the local public library?

For me, as a critic, the aforementioned tasks are fully required to write an adequate review. I do not always interview the authors but either during the creation of the review or after publication of the review, I always make contact with them and they are always grateful for press.

I cannot say, however, that my work ethic extends to a great many other book critics. I know of one part-time critic for the LAT who rigidly explores the marginalia of the book he is reviewing but the problem with the Times (I’m not saying Joseph asked for specific critique of the LA. Times but I’m offering it anyway) is that they have a habit of hiring professional, working authors to write their reviews. Have you ever taken a peek into the life of a working novelist? It’s hectic. A great many of them teach writing or lit and their evenings are spent grading papers and reading work from students. Then there’s the latest book they are writing that they must complete by deadline in order to maintain tenure at whatever institution they teach at. Perhaps once or twice a month many working writers also accept speaking engagements, they attend book signings and lectures for friends and rivals, they network (lunch) ferociously, and, if they are married or otherwise engaged, they have a domestic life to manage and maintain. An editor expects those people to turn in good copy? Not gonna happen. It’s a bad formula.