After my first book, I promised myself that I would no longer read reviews.

It was a necessary step. Because of the unattractive controversy that preceded it, American Son got some pretty brutal write-ups. I will never forget standing on a subway platform at 79th Street in Manhattan, leafing through Esquire magazine and finding a little squib about the book. It was about three sentences long and concluded with something like, “American Son is the work of a writer devoid of what his former boss epitomized: class.” Ouch. Well, more than that—I was so upset, I felt sick to my stomach and started to shake.

(The review was unsigned, and in my shock I couldn’t help but think, At least I had the class to put my name to what I wrote.)

(And in my anger, I couldn’t help but remember that before John’s death, Esquire had published a satire of John’s infamous semi-naked editor’s letter photo, a series of fake nudes of John, which deeply upset him. Consistency, apparently, was not one of the magazine’s virtues.)

Bad reviews are a character-building experience, but sometimes you wonder if you really need all that character.

Anyway, my self-denial lasted all the way to my second book, which got some nice reviews and some which thought it was too critical of Larry Summers. I was intrigued by the latter ones, which were invariably written by people who were without the benefit of actually knowing what was going at Harvard.

(See…those reviews still irk!)

But yesterday, my day was lifted by two lovely comments.

In a rather tough review of Harry Lewis’ Excellence Without a Soul, Martha Nussbaum, writing in the Times Literary Supplement, included this digression: “The reader who looks for a balanced assessment of Summers and his tenure would do well to read Richard Bradley’s excellent Harvard Rules, which offers real insight into the personae and their ideas, with a lively and well-written narrative.”

Thank you, professor—that is much appreciated.

Also yesterday I received a letter from a reader of American Son (four years after the book was published!).

I always enjoy getting letters from readers, because they are almost universally positive. Frequently, too, they are far more interesting than what the critics say, which is often a variation on, “If I had written this book, it would be better.” When American Son came out, I received hundreds of letters, and did my best to answer them all. They raised my spirits at a time when I was getting beaten like a drum.

The letter yesterday came from…well, let me quote.

“I am a 41-year-old hair salon owner who has encountered many challenges along the way. My profession like many is an ever changing one. Last night I finished reading your book ‘American Son.’ John’s story had to be told. As an ordinary American without privilege and access I have always believed John Kennedy was a fortunate man with all the tools needed at his disposal….You helped to put light upon this man, to show his frailties, problems and troubles, making this icon a very human man. You were able to allow this man the dignity anyone deserves but still tell an honest story.

…You may wonder how ‘American Son’ would be relevant to a salon owner on Long Island. There have been many times I have questioned my actions as a leader of a team, tried to bring my team together outside the salon to make us work happier inside the salon. Sometimes feeling inadequate I have often pounded myself for mistakes that I made. Situations that could have been handled better. You and John’s story helped me realize that even men of John’s caliber can sometimes ‘not be correct’ in handling everything that may arise. I can forgive my own mistakes and learn from them…..”

Every one takes something different from a book, and that is part of the joy of writing; people always find meaning in it that you never intended. A letter like the one above means as much to me as those generous words from Martha Nussbaum.

Writing books for a living can be hard. Such letters help make it a little easier.