One of the many rules of thumb when it comes to being a writer is this:

NEVER READ YOUR REVIEWS.

There are three likely scenarios in reviews of your work:

1. The review makes an unflattering remark about your work, and so you break down, feel worthless, and stop writing.
2. The review makes a flattering remark about your work, and so you get greedy, go looking for more, and then encounter an unflattering remark, and you break down, feel worthless, and stop writing. That, or the reviews will get something wrong about your work, and that will send you into a tailspin of despair, and you'll stop writing.
3. The review makes a bland reference to your work that is non-evaluative -- or, even worse, makes no reference to your contribution at all -- which leaves you feeling empty and hollow and overlooked, and you stop writing.

What you are supposed to do is NEVER READ YOUR REVIEWS and, instead, let trusted others cull them for you, passing along only the praise and leaving out the rest.

Alas, while I wholeheartedly subscribe to this philosophy, I nonetheless fail miserably at practicing it.

My pro fiction publications thus far appear in two anthologies (Hags, Sirens, and Other Bad Girls of Fantasy and Cosmic Cocktails). The first antho, which was published this past summer, received many reviews, most of which either neglected to mention my contribution in particular, or mentioned it by way of a general list that gave a quick description of all or most of the stories. Of course, that stands to reason: out of twenty pieces, only a few will stand out; mine was a lighthearted take on the subject, and nothing more. There were far more compelling contributions than mine in the book.

There was *one* review that called my story as one of the highlights of the anthology. But, unfortunately, the review in question is in Swedish. Do any of you faithful readers know Swedish? Here's how an online translation engine interprets the passage into English:

"Band of Sisters", of Allan Rousselle, am acting in short gott if they four sirenerna. This story each both almighty funny and almighty shrewd. For that nots mention cruel. And then am meaning self cruel of the heartless battle.

Woo-hoo! Thanks! I think.

But all along, I had felt that my story in Cosmic Cocktails was a better piece, so I was waiting for that one to come out before I started nudging my friends to read my stuff. It turns out that some reviewers liked that one as well. SFRevu.com reviewer Ernest Lilley, for example, was kind enough to say:

... On the other hand, "Everybody stops at Boston's" does both right. It doesn't have to take place on Copernicus Station, orbiting Saturn after the Earth turns to nano-goo, or even in a bar where everybody on the station winds up...though it doesn't hurt. The intersection of time travel conundrum and human response is exactly what SF should be and this story at least hits the spot.

Amazon.com quotes Publisher's Weekly as saying:

... Others recall the mind-bending neo-noir of Philip K. Dick, as in Allan Rousselle's intoxicating story about a hired killer traveling back in time to terminate the inventor of a time machine.

For those of you who are not familiar with science fiction writers, being compared to Philip K. Dick like this is a happy thing. Having such a mention from Publisher's Weekly is even happier.

I also enjoyed a favorable mention in The Davis Enterprise, where book critic Kristin L. Gray said:

Allan Rousselle’s “Everybody Stops at Boston’s” also stands out. This is a time travel story with a chaser of assassination and a twist at the end. It asks a very simple question: Are certain inventions so inevitable that, no matter what happens, they’ll be created?

Are you intrigued? Then buy the book! Cosmic Cocktails is edited by Denise Little and available at fine bookstores everywhere. (Heck, special order it if they don't already have it on the shelves!)

As for me, well... I'm so happy with the reviews, I've stopped writing.