J. D. Montague's Hungry Garden Chronicles

This post could also be titled, Why It’s Important to Check a Reviewer’s Profile Before Clicking the Buy Now Button.

So, it’s that time of year again…the time for all the aspiring authors to go out and purchase their appropriate Writer’s Market title which has all the goods on the people who might one day publish their work. That means it’s time to head over to Amazon.com (or your favorite online seller) to see what the guinea pigs who pre-ordered the books have to say about it before you shell out the cash.

And that’s exactly what I was doing when I came across an interesting trend: A flurry of 5-star reviews. One in particular made me lift an eyebrow and wonder, did she even read the book? A little bit of digging later, I’ve come to realize she was a shill.

(Update: After being called out in one of her reviews about her shill-iness, looks like Ms. Donahoe deleted all her reviews. Thank goodness I took a screen shot.)

It’s  possible that Ms. Donahoe spent over a hundred dollars purchasing each copy of the Writer’s Market books she reviewed, but something tells me she hasn’t. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s reviewed the Writer’s Market basic and deluxe editions–the exact same books, except one comes with an online subscription–plus every review was posted on the same day (today) with the exact same title and pretty much the exact same review (weighing in at less than a hundred words) with only slight variations.

And hers aren’t the only ones I’ve found, either. A few of the individual books have reviews published from people who’d never reviewed a single item prior…plus they weren’t listed as Amazon Verified Purchases and the reviews read like adverts. I know that people don’t always purchase directly from Amazon the items they review and I know that people have to start somewhere and that people like to gush when they love something, but coupled with the Donahoe flood above, I have to take those particular reviews with a giant grain of salt.

If this was, indeed, a ploy by Writer’s Digest (publisher of the Writer’s Market books) to game the system, then shame on them. I mean, really? It’s not like the books won’t sell (granted, for the past couple of years, the quality has been declining and the reviews have shown it, but still…).

I’ll just finish up with a public service announcement for anyone else thinking about purchasing a Writer’s Market book: before you assume that review is legit, check out the reviewer’s profile and review history…it also doesn’t hurt if the reviewer has the verified purchase tag.

It’s been quiet around here—no reviews, no reading or writing updates, no artwork—for the past couple of weeks because I’ve been dealing with some personal issues that cropped up. But rather than let myself wallow in my festering pool of self-pity any longer, I’ve decided I need to start moving in the forward direction.

About halfway through my swim (through the festering pool of self-pity), I realized that I’d packed on more pounds than my delusional self would care to admit and as part of the forward moving plan, I’m juice fasting. Sort of.

The plan is to gradually replace my solid meals with vegi-juice blends and then juice fast (i.e. no solid foods) for 10 full days before gradually re-introducing solid foods into my diet. I’m hoping the process will reset my taste buds so the withdrawal symptoms from my sugary substance addiction won’t be so horrible.

About three quarters of the way through my swim, I realized that I’d made absolutely no progress on any of my writing projects. Oh no. That simply won’t do. So along with juice fasting for the next couple of weeks, I’ll be camping out in my closet with my favorite pen, notebook, and a flashlight…writing. I might emerge every once in a while to provide updates, but all other minutes will be spent writing.

In better news, I found some amazing inks! And technically they aren’t inks, but liquid acrylic. The first color is Daler & Rowney Pearlescent Birdwing Copper and Pearlescent Silver Moss. Plus I also found some black cotton paper. I’m so in love with these two colors and my paper that I can’t wait to use them for an art project. Maybe the art project will become my next Wordless Wednesday (which is woefully behind). Happy days are here again. I know it’s silly to get this excited about liquid acrylic and cotton paper, but I have so very little in my life, let me have this.

Thus ends the update.

I was abandoned.

Abandon, as defined by Dictionary.com, is “to leave completely and finally; forsake utterly; desert.”

My father and I have an altered relationship. We don’t speak daily, or weekly, or even bi-weekly. Months can drift by without hearing each others’ voices or speaking each others’ names. But right around the three month mark, one or the other picks up the phone.

This time it was my turn.

On father’s day, I found the name “Daddy” in my contact list and dialed. I expected my father’s deep and accented voice to answer, but instead I heard a keening tone followed by a robotic operator tell me the number was no longer in service.

Maybe he missed a bill, I thought.

Two days later, the same robotic operator answered.

I piled into the car for a two hour road trip. The house was a different color than I remembered with an unfamiliar car in the driveway. Strangers answered my daddy’s door and told me, “The previous owners are gone.”

Where? I wanted to ask, but knew they wouldn’t have the answer. All I could think was that my daddy slipped away, no phone call or good-bye.

My father may not be much, but he’s mine and he’s gone and it hurts.

When I pass those people on the street begging for spare change or bumming a ride, I wonder if they’re someone’s father, or daughter, or uncle, or cousin, and if that someone wonders where they are, reaching for them like a phantom limb that still itches.