Hey there! Happy Belated Valentine’s Day, peeps! I was originally thinking about reblogging my previous lurve story post for this special occasion, but then thought that this topic pertaining to the battle of the sexes would be of interest.
So looking over my old reviews, I noticed something. I noticed that while I get both good and bad reviews from women, I’m generally just getting good review from men. And if a male reviewer didn’t like my book for one reason or another, he basically disappears into a cyberspace oblivion like creepy physics administrator guy did when I told that I wasn’t interested in anything ‘nice and big’ from him after all. Now, I’m thinking that maybe members of the opposite sex who read and didn’t like my book or didn’t finish it or were not even interested in it and were just joking about reading it were afraid to tell me so, fearing that I may cry upon hearing such dreadful news. Cry and throw myself on the couch all dramatic-like and cry some more like they did in the old movies. And I might even faint. Yes, I’m bringing fainting back. As them other boys don’t know how to act around me. Well, I have a message for such members of the opposite sex. Guys, you don’t have to worry about hurting my wittle feelings. I may look like a wittle girl but I can be one tough chick that could make your average women’s prison guard named Bertha with her crew cut and a good one hundred fifty pounds on me shudder if need be.
If you don’t believe me, just ask my dissertation advisor. He’s a guy and he had no qualms saying things that made me cry sometimes. Hell, I bet some of those things would make you cry. Don’t believe me? Think that Graduate School Barbie thing is a myth? Well, it’s not. Just read the parts by Graduate Advisor Ken that you find here in a Turkish accent. There you go. That was my life for the past seven years. But you know what? I am grateful to him for that. Because in retrospect, what I perceived as him being mean at the time actually helped me in my scientific writing. And as I said before, I am also grateful for the bad reviews I have received since they actually motivated me to work harder in improving my fiction writing. So if you think my book sucks, tell me my book sucks! If you think I’m a loser and have no place writing syfy, tell me I’m a loser and have no place writing syfy. If you think I need to find a fire and go die in there, tell me that too! I can take it. I have come to the realization that if I want to be taken seriously in the world of writing, I have to take the bad with the good and I am now prepared to do so. Of course, there are still some reservations you might want to keep in mind. Say what you like about my writing but don’t be like NBR and cast it off as a result of my background. In other words, don’t be a xenophobic idiot. And again, if I say I’m not interested in anything “so big, so nice” from you, I mean I’m not interested in anything “so big, so nice” from you. Otherwise, it might just end up “so black, so blue” permanently. And that’s a promise, not a threat. Got that, punk? But now that we have gone over those rules, feel free to trash away. As an aid, I’ll even provide you with some ammunition which you can find here, here, and here.