Review: The Accidental Sl- Poet

Many moons ago, I zipped over to Bezos-land (Amazon) to leave a review for this beaut. I think I might have used the term "effing excellent" (dear reader, I did not say "effing") but Amazon didn’t like it, for some reason.

Only the algorithmic gods will ever know why it was taken down. Maybe I got a bit too enthusiastic and left a flurry of reviews all at once. Perhaps I was flagged as a SpamBot. Ironically, by a bot. It could have been the swearing. (I should probably reign that the fuck in.) Who knows? In any case, it vanished into the digital ether. WHOOSH. Just like that.

I have left another review, with less swearing. I have also apologised to Paul, and grovelled a bit, but I really felt that it was inadequate and the only way to really make it up to him would be to dust off this old fucker and finally finish it and hit publish.

Anyway. This brought to my attention that my reviews of your content may be missing on Amazon. That's a travesty. I know how bad an author craves reviews, and I know it's not just vanity (it might be a bit vanity).

A review, especially a positive one, is one of the strongest signals to other readers. We're all a bit desperate for it, to be honest. Before I go any further, I wish to make it known that you should check your reviews. If you think mine is missing, I will cheerfully redo it - just let me know.

To business, then.

Why do I like this book?

Or, if you want me to be really blunt: why do I think you should buy it? Do I think that?

Yes. Yes I do think that. Here's why:

I love this book because it's a proper tart of a read.

It's forward. Naked. Not what you'd call shy. It doesn't shrink from topics, or tiptoe around them, oh no. It runs up to them at full pelt, kilt swinging freely in the breeze (amongst other things) and nuts them (ha) right between the eyes.

I don't mean it's a rude read. At least, not in that way. It's naked the way Brienne of Tarth is naked in the bath scene. Utterly unadorned, raw, and giving no.... effs. Mind you, it'll still kick you in the feels and ask, "D'you want some more, sonny? Well? Do ya?"

I love the realness of it. The rawness. Paul has scooped out his innards for your perusal, and smeared them beautifully across the page.

The fact there's a bit of difference between the first ones and the later ones would have made a coward (eg. me) trim the earlier ones, but this is half of what I mean about the nakedness on the page. That's not to say the earlier ones are in any way "less good", only that you can feel a difference. You can feel an evolution of the poet as you move through it. For me, that's just another thing to like about it.

Hot tip: Don't thumb through it and pick pieces at random. Instead, read it like you would a story: start to finish - then you'll see what I mean. You'll catch the growth of the person behind the pen, the leaning in to the voice. It's smashing. He's blossoming like a little flower, right there in front of you.

(Unless you read a story by picking chapters to read in the wrong order, in which case you might be a one of those psychopaths who do sock shoe sock shoe outside the swimming pool changing rooms, and you shouldn't be allowed near a book ever again.)

I vote Mr Stewart do another collection, and this time call it The Naked Poet. (Imagine the cover art. Goodness.) I will cheerfully do a forward for it, should there be a need. I have no doubt I'm not in any way important enough to do forwards for anyone, much less offer it as a gracious favour, but I woke up today and decided to be more audacious.

+++++++

Thank you for reading!

If you've read this poetry collection, or if it's on your TBR, let me know in the comments.