Margaret

Evans

After all, I have plenty of platforms for self-expression: this paper, Facebook, Instagram . . . Even Twitter, if I’m feeling masochistic.

But then I’ll read a book I really love and feel inspired to share my thoughts, or a writer friend will ask me for an Amazon shout-out, and it all comes rushing back. The frustration. The humiliation. The powerlessness. The injustice!

First World Problem? For sure. But I live in the First World. That’s mostly the kind of problems I have.

Every now and then, I hop on Amazon in hopes that something has changed. I keep thinking there must be a statute of limitations on this thing. If my reviewing activity was merely “unusual” – not obscene or illegal or dangerous – then maybe it’s just a matter of time before they restore my privileges.

But it’s been over two years and still no change. My exile feels pretty permanent.

You know what really galls me? The official statement: “We apologize but Amazon has noticed some unusual reviewing activity on this account.” That “we apologize” part is so grating, so obsequious. If you’re gonna strip a writer or her writing rights, just do it. The fake niceties are nauseating.

Another thing that bugs? While I am inexplicably and irrevocably banished –“canceled,” to use today’s parlance – every other Tom, Dick and Harriet with a keyboard is free to bang out crappy critiques ‘til the cows come home. Don’t believe me? Get on Amazon and read some book reviews!

But living with anger and envy is no good. So I have decided to view my exile as a spiritual challenge. An exercise in selfdenial and humility. Ommm . . .

Maybe I’ll order some books on the topic. Despite having banned my thoughts and feelings, Amazon still seems happy enough to take my money.