One key piece of advice that my mentor Christos Tsiolkas gave me before the publication of my first novel was this:

‘Don’t ever reply to critics’

Christos said that people are going to say what they say, and definitely, some of it is going to annoy you. But there’s no good outcome if you respond, there’s nothing you can say that hasn’t been said in the novel itself, and you’re best to just let the work have a life of its own, and be happy with what you’ve produced.

I wonder if this still applies in the modern literary landscape, where audience engagement on social media is now such a big consideration, and where publishers actually want authors to have an active presence, and be more than their work.

Because these days, who the author is matters. Where the writer came from, their life and inspirations, what they stand for, what they represent, all of these things matter more than they used to. Topicality will get you more press coverage, or at least more opportunities for interviews and discussion, while taking a definitive stance is a big part of social media resonance more broadly, due to discussion stemming from your opinions, in agreement or not, which can prompt algorithmic boosts. The modern media landscape is much more politically driven, and if you can play into that, you’ll get more coverage and awareness.

So maybe, you should respond to critics, or at least the ones who question who you are, using that as an opportunity to communicate your own stances and opinions. That could actually be a positive, but it is interesting to consider the shift in this respect.

For a lot of my favorite authors, I would have no idea who they are, beyond their work. Amy Hempel is my favorite writer, and I can’t say that I know anything much about her personal life, except that she likes dogs. Cormac McCarthy lived a fairly quiet life, though there are questionable elements of his personal history. But I have no clue what his political stances might be. I assume had he published Blood Meridian in 2025, we’d know much more about him, and that may have even tainted his legacy (if, of course, Blood Meridian would even make it to print these days).

It’s interesting to consider the shift in the way that the media handles people who come to public attention, from writers to actors and everybody else, and how we now know so much more about who they are, and what they care about, than we did in the past.

Is that a better way to approach creative talent? Do we need to know more beyond their work?

In some ways, yes. It’s good to know, for example, that J.K. Rowling has some disagreeable stances, though that does also make me a little more hesitant about supporting her work. 

Is that the way that it should be, that external factors sway how we feel about their output?

Ideally, we should probably seek to judge all creative output on its merits alone, and how well the artist has expressed their vision. That would be the most pure assessment of art. 

But that would also mean overlooking certain things in favor of the end result, ignoring ugly truths in favor of beautiful creations.

And that’s the way of the past, in the pre-internet era, in which predators could go unchecked for years because of their talent, and it was easier to obscure such from the public.

That’s not a good outcome either, but judging artists on anything other than the work itself also feels unfair, and could mean overlooking merit.

But in the social media era, this is more important than ever.

But if having the “wrong” opinions could kill your career, that also means that we may well be missing out on some of the best, most impactful work.

Either way, it’s another consideration in your broader literary journey, and how you maximize your opportunities.