A story that involved walking down the aisle with the man who criticized a woman's book on Goodreads.

A story that involved walking down the aisle with the man who criticized a woman's book on Goodreads

When the best man at my friend’s wedding gave my novel a one-star review, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. It was harder, ultimately, to forgive myself.

Sooner or later, we all come across our critics. Maybe it happens via a stinging romantic rejection, or a meeting about our “disappointing performance” in the job we worked so hard to get. In my case, I came face-to-face—literally—with my biggest critic while walking down the aisle with him. He was the best man at my friend’s wedding; I was the maid of honor. And he’d given my debut novel a one-star review on Goodreads.

For the uninitiated, Goodreads is a (now notorious) website—one which the New York Times Opinion Section declared an “online hellscape”—where more than 150 million users publicly track and rate the books they’ve read. Authors who decide to look up their own books’ reviews do so at their own peril: You might find a five-star review confirming that the story you poured your heart into is, as you secretly suspected, the next Great American Novel. Alternatively, you could encounter a casually devastating review that will haunt you forever.

With my first book, I blithely took the plunge. Most of my readers were friends and family anyway, so I spent far too much time gorging myself on their Goodreads praise. As a rabid people-pleaser who hated the idea of anyone disliking me, it was intoxicating to believe that maybe, just maybe, I’d done the impossible and created a piece of art that was universally loved.

Until a one-star rating popped up. My stomach dropped. I reminded myself that it was bound to happen sooner or later. Then I immediately clicked on the account to see who had decided to tell the internet that my life’s work was trash. I knew that name, didn’t I? Yes, he was a friend of my close friend’s fiancé. And not just any friend, either. He was going to be the best man at their upcoming wedding. And his maid of honor counterpart? That would be me.

It was intoxicating to believe that maybe, just maybe, I’d done the impossible and created a piece of art that was universally loved.”

I was indignant—and worried. Maybe the book was bad, and my friends had been sugarcoating their responses. But I was also confused. Did this man not realize how uncomfortable this would make the wedding? As the big day approached, I spent a lot of time questioning how best to handle the situation. Should I reach out to him to clear the air? Ignore him completely? Demand that he tell me exactly why he hated the book so that I could tell him why he was wrong?

At first, I tried rising above. Perhaps he’d be so taken by my friendliness and charm that he’d rethink his opinion of the book, even go back and change his one-star to a five-star! As we lined up for the ceremony, I locked my face into a smile, making semi-awkward small talk. I figured he knew that I knew about the rating, but neither of us mentioned it. We simply made our way down the aisle, arm-in-arm, to watch the beautiful ceremony.

But by the time the reception rolled around, politeness didn’t feel adequate. So I got petty. Both of us were due to deliver toasts to the crowded ballroom, and mine would be better! This man might have hated my book, but I’d make it impossible for him to hate my speech. I tried to remind myself that the toast was about celebrating my friend and her husband, not about making their best man regret his life’s choices. Still, I couldn’t help feeling a surge of triumph when, at the end of my speech, the crowd rang with laughter and applause.