I know you are supposed to say that ¬†reviews don’t matter. That you never even read them. I must admit, though, that to me they do matter, and I do read them. When Sonata for Miriam was just published and Boston blogger called it a four-star turkey it did hurt. And no matter how many excellent reviews my book received, that single bad one has stayed in my mind. In the fragile final stages of writing my fourth novel, tentatively titled¬†The blackbird sings at dusk,¬†it was comforting and encouraging to see this blog comment on¬†The Memory of love:¬†Basso Profundo.