A few weeks ago I read a story that actually haunted me for days. I still click on the author’s profile frequently to see whether she’s written anything else. Because I want to read more. That story kept me entertained at traffic lights, and when I couldn’t sleep at night. That story rocked, irrespective of who stuck pencils under it.

“Would I buy it in print?”
“Did it make me laugh, gasp, cry?”
“Did it make me want to come back for more?”
“Did it do something new or original?”
5 pencils means YES to those. Or one of those. Or, sometimes, I just that I feel the writer needs an encouraging shove towards picking up and wearing the mantle of their own magnificence.

But, you know, affirming as ratings are, those 5 pencils are, in fact, about what the story does to me, not about the writer and their genius. The rest of the time, I’d rather reply with comments or a story of my own.

In the real world, folks, one person holds the pencil, and that’s the writer. And it’s not for rating, it’s for writing.