Last week, my friend Laura got a horrible, blow-it-up, kill-the-cattle, enslave-the-women-and-children, no-holds-barred horrible, sow-the-earth-with-salt review of her poetry collection from Kirkus Reviews. They write those things with such turns of phrase, including the word “sophomoric,” and “disappointment,” and my stomach turned when I read it — I couldn’t say anything to her for hours, whilst the rest of our poetry group rallied around her and said all the right things.
Another person in our group has gotten a poor review from them before. I’ve only ever gotten a really nice one, and today… a starred one.
It’s probably stupid to feel bad or worried about this; Laura’s going to wish me well like everyone else.
But, ugh. If only her evisceration hadn’t happened just last week.