Before I offer my (probably offensive) book review advice, I would like to make two important qualifications.

First, if you are writing for family, friends, co-workers, and acquaintances – ignore this advice. It doesn’t apply to you.

Second and similarly, if your subject is yourself, and writing about a book is simply an opportunity to enrich your engaging self-portrait – ignore this advice. It doesn’t apply to you, either.

However, if your subject is the book and you are writing for the general public, then some of the points in this lunatic rant could possibly apply to you (although I sincerely hope they don’t).

Now, may all the saints in heaven forgive me. Here goes:

Don’t tell us how much you love reading books. We assume you do or you wouldn’t read them.

Don’t tell us how much you hate reading books. We’ll wonder why you read them.

Don’t write a blog post about how you have nothing to say about the book. If you nothing to say — say nothing.

Don’t write a post about how you didn’t understand the book. See above.

Don’t write a post about how you found the book boring because you didn’t understand it. See above.

Please don’t tell us how the book got you through a difficult time in your life. We’ll feel like miserable, pathetic bastards for hating this book.

Don’t tell us you liked a book without telling us why. Your reasons are what make your opinions interesting.

Don’t tell us you disliked a book without telling us why. Your reasons are what make your opinions interesting.

Don’t apologize for your opinions. They are what make you you.

Don’t let some preening pin-dick with a real or fictitious PhD tell you your opinions are wrong.

Particularly, don’t let some preening pin-dick PhD tell you you missed the “irony” of the book or have been tricked by its “indeterminacy” or its “unreliable narrator”. Most of the time, the f**ker is bluffing. Put him to the test. Ask him to explain. If he can’t, you win. If he can, you learn something.

Don’t let someone tell you what is or isn’t literature. Any person more interested in categories than individual works is a philistine.

Don’t write from apathy. Intellect without passion is a long, slow, grey death.

Don’t write from disdain or despair. Love is what fixes our souls in the mind of God.

Don’t begin any thought, sentence, or paragraph with the words, “I’m not sure this is relevant.” If it’s not relevant, cut it.

For Christ’ sake, don’t begin or end a review with the words, “I’m not sure this post is worth reading.” If the post isn’t worth reading — don’t post it.

Don’t tell us why you bought the book, where you bought the book, what else you were doing or who you were with when you bought the book, how much you like the store where you bought the book or how much you like the person you were with when you bought it, what you were wearing while reading the book, or what else was going on in your life while you were reading it. Don’t tell us where you read the book. Don’t describe your favorite reading nook or reading chair. Don’t post pictures of your favorite reading nook or reading chair. Don’t tell us what you like to eat or drink while reading books. For Christ’ sake, don’t post pictures of what you were eating or drinking while reading the book. Don’t tell us the book made you want to have sex. Don’t tell us the book made you not want to have sex. We don’t want to know. Don’t tell us about your lack of progress writing your novel. Don’t tell us about your garden, your pets, your motorcycle, your band, your new yoga pose, your favorite restaurant, your favorite club, your favorite gym, your classes, your job, your boyfriend, your girlfriend, your wedding plans, your children, your parents, your shoes, or your Glock Gen 4. Don’t tell us about the fabulous pancakes you cooked on Sunday morning before you began reading the book. We don’t know you. We don’t care.

Phew. I feel much better now. Thank you for your forbearance.