I don't really get hate mail, which surprises me, but people have better things to do than to write hate mail to somebody who writes a book about hating everything, I guess.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I love reader mail, and I do read it, but I won't read hate mail.
When I get hate mail, I get really down on myself, and I read it to my mom, and my mom is like, 'So what? Who cares? These people don't know you, so you can't take the praise or the hate to heart.'
I've thought of publishing a book of my hate mail, but I don't own the rights to the letters.
A lot of the hate mail I get is clearly misogynist. I am a proud liberal, feminist woman, and the hate mail I get about those three things is not about me.
Hating a book is not unlike hating a person; in fact it's tempting to just go ahead and hate the author personally, by proxy, qua human being, except that I know that would be a mistake.
I've gotten a lot of livid letters about the awfulness of my work. I've never known what to make of it. Why do people bother to write if they hate what I do?
And I love the hate mail I get, the unsigned, misspelled letters I get telling me to go back to Russia or wherever.
Like any other person who reads a ton of books, I hate many, many books. Oh, how I hate them. I have performed dramatic readings of the books I hate. I have little hate summaries. I have hate impressions. I can act out, scene by hateful scene, some of these books. I can perform silent hate charades.
I would really hate to have e-mail. It's bad enough with all the mail I get.
People send everyone hate mail. That's the way the world works right now, I'm nothing special.