One might say that book ratings are what make the literary world go round. A good rating obviously means it’s a good book, right?
When you take the time to think about it, those star ratings aren’t much more than a Goodread’s average. A silly little concoction that gives me an excuse to bring a book home. “It had good ratings,” I might say. Translation, “I love this cover so much. I had to take it home. Actually, I don’t even remember what this book is about.”
Though ratings are always amazing to use instead of saying, “I am clinically crazy and picked up a book at random,” why aren’t they that accurate?
My friend loved this book! Five stars, the whole nine yards. I cannot like it any less.
Come on. You know that you’re guilty of this. If a friend of mine likes the book? I’m going to look at the whole book differently from the moment I set my eyes on the cover. If I’m told that I’ll love it, why would I want to do anything else? I, personally, hate disliking a book a friend thought I would like.
I try to avoid reading reviews on books I’m currently reading (unless it’s terrible and I want to know if it gets any better) for this reason. There have been so many times that I’ve read some after I wrote my own review just to feel like maybe I rated it wrong. I mean, I didn’t consider things the way they did. Maybe I should have a rating more like their rating. Their rating makes sense. Why did I even review that book. . .
Other random circumstances.
Lately I’ve had horrid luck with books. The books I’ve received for review have killed me. In the I’d-like-to-quit-but-I’m-already-200-pages-in way.
Books not for review? Eh, I’ve been busy and haven’t had as much time set aside for them. But I just started a review book the other day (Oblivion by Sasha Dawn) and it’s actually been good. So, as you can imagine, I’ve been obsessing/fangirlng/whatever-word-you-use-to-express-extreme-excitement. Whether it’s the book itself or just my happiness in reading something that actually makes sense and is written well I don’t know. I like to think it’s the book, but.
Coincidentally, the alternate can happen. Sometimes I’ve read books that are so good that whatever I read next just. . .well. . .sucks.
And what about those books that we can’t read for some reason? I get busy. Sometimes I only get to read 2 or 3 pages of something at a time. Sometimes the longer a book takes me, the more I want to give it a meh rating even if it was good.