One of the non-lucrative but highly ego-gratifying side benefits of being a critic is being blurbed. Since I practice the art form only occasionally, I rarely get the rush. Occasionally an author or publisher will feature a quote from my review on their website; Jennifer Egan, Carolyn Parkhurst, Patrick Rothfuss, etc. In my own field of theology, I occasionally get contacted to read a book and provide a blurb for the jacket. Jeff McCloud tells me that a quote from my review of Rick Prelinger's Field Guide To Sponsored Films (the bedside-table equivalent of crack cocaine) will appear in the advertisement for that publication in the new box set Treasures III: Social Issues In American Film.
Given his prolific output, eclectic tastes, and frankly, better writing and more refined critical skills, Noel gets blurbed a lot more than me, unsurprisingly. It's not uncommon that band/label PR packages arrive in the mail with quotes or even a full reviews from Noel included. Until one of us gets a cover quote on a DVD package, however, Dear Husband retains the blurbing prize. His name may not be on it, but that's his authoritative declaration above the title of the paperback edition of Chuck Klosterman's Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto. I used the book in my criticism writing class last semester, and when students asked, I confirmed Noel's authorship. In terms of making the work of a critic seem worthwhile, a whole semester of discussion about the art of criticism paled before that fact.
