I was stuck in Professor Uptight’s class against my will. It was a mandatory class I needed to obtain my degree, I was in my second to the last semester before graduating, and the time it was going to be offered the following semester just didn’t work. So I couldn’t drop it like my instincts told me to after the first day of class when I suspected our personalities were not going to mesh well.

The class was a literary criticism class, which, as an English lit major, came pretty easy to me at this point in my college career. But regardless of what I wrote, Professor Uptight hated it and graded accordingly. When I made an appointment to discuss this with him–after all, this was my major and I could not afford a C or a (gasp!) D in the class–I will never forget the way he looked with disdain at my outfit (early glam rock circa 1985) and my Walkman (the cassette version, for those of you who even remember those) upon learning I was listening to Billy Idol (he asked!). I kind of knew right then and there that I didn’t have a chance in his class.

My point after this long-winded narrative? As the old adage says, you just can’t please all of the people all of the time. As an author now, I am learning that there are people who will criticize my work—some of them like to do it over and over again. They will have a list of reasons–some of them valid, I admit–why my book sucks. So what to do when they tell the world about it?

You have two basic choices: You can ignore it. Or you can pay attention to it. (Well, I guess the third choice is to freak out about it, but I definitely don’t recommend that!)

I like to pay attention to it. My book is nonfiction, so I tend to respond (literally) to critical reviews when I can because I have real hard time keeping my mouth (keyboard?) quiet. I often agree with some of the criticism (my book was traditionally published, so some of the points of contention are about things that were out of my hands–a testament to one of the reasons why self-publishing can be a good idea), and I will generally mention that. Other points I will adamantly disagree with, and I like to say so. But I keep my tone professional, and I don’t bear a grudge against the reviewer. If you are going to put a book out there, you need to put on your big girl panties (er, big boy boxers?) and suck it up when someone doesn’t like it.

Another reason to listen to harsh criticism is because you can learn from it. Try to see your book from the reviewer’s point of view. There are probably areas you can work on in your next book. Essentially, a reviewer might be providing a valuable service in helping you improve your writing and your next book.

It’s tough not to take bad reviews personally. But it’s helpful to remember that the review is (usually) about the work not the person. You can’t be all things to all people, and neither can your book. Plus, reviews (like grades for literary criticism papers) are subjective. Repeat. Reviews are subjective. Just because one person doesn’t like your work doesn’t mean it’s bad or that everyone will dislike it.

Incidentally, I got a C in Professor Uptight’s class; it was the only C I got in any class in my major and brought down my entire college GPA. I got an A in Professor Flannel’s class. But I also learned a valuable life lesson beyond the course work: You cannot control a person’s perception of you, but you can control how you react to it.