The “Meh” Factor: Is it better to write a bad book or a “meh” book?

I encounter an obscene number of books on a yearly, if not weekly, basis. Free books, bargain books, books to review, books at the library, books for adults, my kid’s books, books that cover something I want to read, books that cover something that I don’t—there’s just So. Many. Books.

Something I found myself pondering while writing the last paid review I did was, is it better for authors to write a book that is bland, one that doesn’t win legions of fans but doesn’t piss anyone off either, or is it better to write a book that everyone says is awful?

Now, ideally, we’d all be J.K. Rowling, but the marketplace is simply too diverse and will never be big enough to support that, even if everyone in the world read. There’s always going to be someone out there who hates the same book you love.

So with that in mind, I wondered if I preferred to hate a book, as in read bits aloud to my spouse because they are so deplorable, or feel “meh” about it, as in can’t find anything in particular to characterize the work that’s worth reading to anyone.

After some consideration, I’d rather hate a book—I’d rather see one with spelling errors, racism, blatant disregard for grammar and style, sexist comments, and factual errors than be faced with a book that’s best described as “nothing really wrong with it, it just didn’t do anything for me.”

The latter experience is what bad sex is to mediocre sex: at least with bad sex you know you’ll have a kick-ass story to tell at the end of it, whereas with mediocre sex the best you can say about it is… “meh.”