Feeling out of place, never really finding the people who understood me, listened to what I had to say, what I thought, or believed my reality. I have lived so long in isolation.
Until, I said ‘fuck it’ and typed in @_bookbrat into a ‘create account’ field. A place to be me, wholly unmasked. Feeling, thinking, being, just existing, never expecting it would be anything more than just an outlet for me. What I found? A home with strangers turned friends, over the books we read, over the stories we share, our likes, our joy, our excitement. And with that came soul binding friendships that I will hold dear for the rest of my life. For that alone, I will be eternally grateful for what this space has done for me, how it has held the space in my camera roll and in strangers’ screens to truly let me learn who I am, not who I thought the world needed: the smaller, quieter, curated version of Em, but the loud, expressive, creative, deeply feeling, deeply caring human she has been at the centre this entire time.
But, light doesn’t exist without the dark, does it. There are some dark corners of this space, where rage bait, negativity and shaming others are fuelled, because the algorithms thrive off it. Because it pulls a stronger reaction out of people than one of light.
I read a book this year that blew me away. I expressed my excitement for it, how much I enjoyed it and how fun it was to experience it, and yet I started seeing incredibly strong opposite opinions. Some weren’t a difference of taste, they were sharp, discrediting how it made me feel, the author, and every other reader who loved it. Not “this wasn’t for me”, but closer to “if you like this, your judgement is questionable”. At first I was triggered, on my own behalf and the author’s and every fellow lover of the book. It forced me to see how easily this space tips from honest difference into something meaner, the version the algorithms reward.
And when I then tried to write a review for this book? I couldn’t find the words.
When I first started out here, as a creator, a reader, I had no idea how to write a review that would tell others the exact things they needed to know without spoiling the plot. I sat there, staring at the star rating scale trying to figure out what I was supposed to tap, and could not understand what the rules were for what these ratings actually meant. How was a ranking of 1-5 going to clearly depict what I experienced? Or, the type of reader who would enjoy it most?
This reflection turned into a massive dive into learning what the community leans on them for. Perhaps, not all of us understand that every book has different bones, and that we aren’t always going to like everything we read, that we aren’t always the reader the book was meant for. I went looking for the resources to help me understand who I am as a reader, and how to write something that would help me recommend the book in a way it would attract the right people… and found… nothing. Or, very little substance in a way that really reflected the interactions and language I was witnessing in the little world in my phone, reader to reader. So I started watching. Reading through the comment sections, listening to opposing opinions, trying to understand why they were expressing their voice in the way they did. And I came to this flooring realisation: the entire system is built for supporting a negative format. The entire system has twisted something beautifully human into statistics.
‘5 stars’ is a feeling, not a score.
Think about it.
Books aren’t blenders. They aren’t something you can rate on the mechanics or how well it makes your morning smoothie, or how nice the buttons feel to press… because it is deeply embedded into the human experience. It draws on something more than convenience and price.
Art. Art.
Art is deeply human. It is expressive. It is so tightly wound around each of our souls as a form of telling the world who we are, of showing the parts of us we are comfortable letting others see, of making us think, to reflect on our inner worlds as well as the world around us. Why are we rating something like this, out of five? It’s not that art can’t be judged, or critiqued – it definitely can – but a rating scale of 1-5 collapses it entirely and compresses it into something small. Something cold. When the truth of the literature world is a vast, deeply coloured spectrum.
We all are different people, have different life experiences, different traumas, likes, dislikes, different things that make our heart sing and different things that hurt us – this extends to what we read. Books are a form of art, a form of story telling, the very story telling we have done for eons, since before humans evolved into learning language. It’s about portraying one’s heart, it’s cathartic, for the soul, for the mind, and if this reaches others who resonate or find meaning in the story, that’s the loudest thing that matters.
Threading in the literature lens. Yes, how a book is written and structured is important. Craft is real, I’m not going to pretend it isn’t, it’s part of how we learn and how we grow. But, ‘well-written’ and ‘this meant something to me’ are two different measures for a lot of us. A book breaking the rules of how it ‘should’ be written doesn’t make what someone felt reading it any less true or valid. A story can still be analysed and resonate on an emotional level – heck, this probably isn’t even written well – but both of these things can be true at once. We are all on different trajectories, have different expectations of what we read, whether that is from a critical view or for vibes.
All of these perspectives matter, all of your voices matter.
We deserve a better narrative than the one being built around us, that one person’s perception, interpretation and resonance with a story is the only truth or opinion allowed to exist. We can express our differences kindly. We can listen to each person’s perspectives without making them feel small, less than, simply because they liked or disliked something that another has an opposite feeling for.
It is healthy to understand different perspectives, and it’s something I am still learning too, that what one person thinks doesn’t mean it discredits my own feelings and opinions. I am not perfect, I get this wrong more often than I would like, I have spent a great deal of time reflecting deeply on my own perceptions. Yet, I reject the echo chamber building online, the one where we only ever see points of view that agree with us, rather than respectfully listening to something that opposes us. Whilst simultaneously communicating these differences with kindness and respect. It’s disconnecting us, when the reading community is about togetherness over these very differences. We collectively make up the spectrum that is this space.
Not every reader is every book’s audience. Every story has something different, it came from a different voice, a different soul. We aren’t always going to like everything we read, that is okay, it’s expected, actually. In the same way you aren’t instantly friends with everyone you meet, or, that we all like the same colour, or clothing style, or music…. I want to build the place that embraces this, that is led with warmth, with heart, and simultaneously allowing honesty from a place of respect, not attack. Too many authors have been hurt, too many readers have been shamed. Reading is interpretive, the same way the art hanging up at the Louvre is. What’s deemed good for one person isn’t the truth for all.
Stars do not live up to the job from where I am sitting, to summarise all of this into a grade out of five. There are too many variables. It’s removing the human-ness out of something that is deeply expressive. But let me be transparent here too, if you believe that star rating does this for you – great – keep doing it. If it’s something that makes sense to you, truly summarises your experiences with a story, that’s incredible. We all deserve something that explains our experiences, validates them – every single person on the earth deserves this.
To the orange book I met at the very time I needed it… this is my why. I know there is Nesta discourse online, that not everyone enjoys her story. I met Nesta at the darkest, lowest point of my postpartum depression. My mind was unkind yet eerily calm. I was a weeping heap on the floor feeling like I could not go on, and my husband begging me to stay. Feeling like I failed at the one thing that was supposed to come naturally. No matter how much support I got, the weight never lifted. My life as a new mother was unlike anything I expected in the opposite way they tell you it will be. I no longer wanted to draw breath, I planned on making that a reality. I was so angry at the world for where I was, exploding into fits of rage, shattering bowls against walls and bruising my hands from slamming them into the floor in the moments I broke, begging, screaming til I was breathless, for the ground to swallow me whole and just end it for good. I felt so cheated. When I read that bright orange book, about a woman who was messy, blunt and processing her grief and rage loudly – I finally felt seen. My internal world was written out on a page, experienced by a fictional character, and it made me sit back. It handed me the mirror I needed. I thought “if Nesta can do this, so the fuck can I”. She taught me that grieving the life you thought you were going to have didn’t need to happen quietly, that it’s okay to miss something you never got to have, and moving through that was possible.
That book? Saved my life. Truly. The Em you see today is only here because of Nesta. She reached a part of me that no therapist was ever able to get to.
You see, books are the stars, not rated 1-5 by them. The sky is full of them. Guiding readers home like a beacon. Every single one deserves to find them at the very moment they need it.
I hope to dismantle the star rating system, and close the disconnect between the platforms we have now and the truth of the way the actual book community works, and what really moves it and its readers. It was never meant to be about popularity, but that’s exactly what the star rating system fuels today. It should be what is meant for you. Reading is deeply personal, so why isn’t it approached this way? Reading makes us feel, think, experience, laugh and heal. Reading is magic. I want to provide the space that puts this at the centre, that provides the warm room to step into, the tight embrace from a friend when you need it, because we all deserve something that reflects the very thing we seek from words on the page.
I want to give the community the tools to understand what their makers and breakers are, to have a name for who they are deep down as reader, regardless of genre, and help them communicate this in a respectful way, whether that’s a like, or a dislike. And, be able to see someone’s spectrum in a way that makes sense, is digestible, and is approached from a place of understanding and curiosity, not defensiveness. To give every reader validation of their experiences, the thing I went without for so much of my life.
We can do this better.
All of it better.
We can be kind, and be honest.
We can express ourselves without making others feel small, or shamed.
Reviews, discovery, arcs, goals, lifting indie voices, critique, resonance, joy, connection, validation… I am coming with ideas to build this entire system back up piece by piece, page by page, but with a beating heart. For the better. To reflect how this community really works, to make it what we’ve needed all along, but no one has been able to get right, yet.
I want to create the place that makes the little Em feel seen, heard and believed, but for everyone to experience this validation too, from a place of warmth. To create something beautiful from this lived darkness.
Everyone deserves a place at the table to voice their opinions, feelings, and values. Authors, readers, publishers, the critic, the feeler, the one just along for the ride. Everyone has a seat. Isn’t that what we all connect over? Shared feelings and experiences, or learning about someone else’s views that are different to your own – is this not the very thing that fills this space with richness? I truly believe we can do this, whilst leaving the mean-ness by the door without a key to get in.
I believe in this with every cell in my body and thread in my soul. We can come together because of our differences, not be separated by them. The divide happening in the book community doesn’t need to be there. At all.
The ride is going to be bumpy and imperfect, it already has been so far. But, I am doing my best to think of every single reader’s perspective in building what I’m dreaming of: listening to every voice to make sure they are included on the invite list. To hopefully fill the void that has been empty in our chests for so, so long.
God, I hope I can do it justice.
The stars had their turn,
it’s time to make it ours.
