On the Guardian piece
I remember my first one-star review. I can recite it to you verbatim. I had it embroidered to hang on my wall.
My first five-star review? I have no idea what it said.
For every bad review I’ve probably had at least double that number in great reviews, but the bad ones hurt. Except that pain, that need to be universally loved, should never justify violating someone’s privacy no matter how harsh the review.
Turn off your alerts. Stop going to Goodreads. Do not search yourself on Twitter. Don’t fool yourself that any of that is useful to you, because it is not. Use that time to nurture your creativity (because that’s the real reason we write, isn’t it?) and leave the haters alone.