It apparently started with Caitlin Kiernan, who rightly suggested that using the term ‘self-indulgent’ was not a very useful one for book reviewers or critics to be using. It then showed up at The Mumpsimus, and I’ve just read Niall Harrison’s interesting comments on the subject.

It’s all good stuff, and I was particularly interested to see Niall refer to conversations on bad habits that reviewers pick up, phrases they use, things they do. I completely agree about not simply writing blurbs, however nice it is to see what you’ve written printed on the cover of a book. I have countless things I hate seeing in book reviews, and a number of flags that fly when I’m trying to write one. For example, if you ever find yourself snickering at your own wit while writing a book review, junk what made you laugh. Trust me. The one thing, though, that I’d cut out of all book reviewing isn’t ‘self-indulgent’, it’s ‘what it means to be human’. As in, Charles Stross’s Accelerando redefines what it means to be human, or Peter Beagle’s The Last Unicorn addresses what it means to be human. It’s lazy. It’s dumb. It’s shorthand for attempting to describe what a book is about it, or what the author is attempting. Every time I read it in someone else’s reviews, I switch off, and when I read it in one of my own, I wince. Erg.

went shopping on saturday. bob the b2 stealth walkman may be out of job. picked up a 60 gig ipod. very interesting.

Well, I don’t know that I thought I’d ever be writing this particular journal entry. I started reviewing for Locus back in mid-1997. It was easy, it was fun, and I enjoyed it. Books began to flow to the little apartment I shared with Marianne in Oakland, and all was right with the world. I returned to Australia in early 1998 thinking my reviewing days were over, but by mid-1999 I was back in the saddle. Within a year of that, I was reviews editor for the magazine and doing more than ever (editing etc). The thing that suffered was my reviewing. Each individual review was increasingl torturous to write, each deadline harder to meet. Early this year, facing a cavalcade of deadlines, I effectively stopped reviewing.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t such a great sacrifice, but it was something I wasn’t sure about doing. Unsurprisingly, and quite reasonably, publishers realised this, and began to stop sending me the reviewer’s lifeblood, books. Well, things hit a definite crisis point today. I realised books weren’t coming in and, more importantly, books were slipping through the cracks at head office, and not getting reviewed as they should.

Although I have other commitments, I take Locus very seriously, and this is not acceptable. It must have the best coverage in and of the field (and I like getting books in the mail). So, pretty much effective today, I’m returning to active service. I don’t know if I’ll quite make this month’s deadline (though I’m trying), but I have reviews in train of Gwyneth Jones’ Band of Gypsys, Paul McAuley’s Little Machines, Jeff Ford’s new PS novella (if I get a copy in time), and maybe either the new Tricia Sullivan or Justina Robson novels. Publishers should know they can send books Down Under with confidence that books will be reviewed. Game on!

Bill Gibson writes about U2’s Vertigo tour over at Wired.

As with any other number of bloggers, I saw this over at Neil’s Journal, and thought it was worth repeating. If you’ve ever wanted to get your name, or the name of someone you love, into a book, here is your best chance ever. A bunch of terrific writers over at eBay are auctioning the right to have your name, or choice of name, appear in their next book. All monies go to a suitably worthy US-based cause, and it’s a lot of fun. For example, you can be in Stephen King’s next novel, though he does say that the “Character can be male or female, but a buyer who wants to die must in this case be female.” Hmmm. It’d be fun to be in a Neil Gaiman book or a Kelly Link story. Don’t know if I real want to have my brain fried by a fictional cell phone, but it’s cool. Go for it.