This is the sixty-four dollar question. I suppose I persevere, but not without self-pity. I often have to lie down. Bad reviews, and I lie down and stare at the ceiling for a while. Rejections from publishers, and I can’t help but compare myself with more successful authors. The feeling of failure probably accompanies them too. I’m sure it does.
Here’s what I learned from my first really bad review. In the first moment I felt kneecapped and the despair lasted for three bitter days. Then my spine straightened and I actually felt stronger. I learned that I could live without that reviewer’s approval. I would keep going, more determined, more bloody-minded than before. Unfortunately, this is a lesson that keeps presenting itself.