Every academic writer knows the sting of a harsh review. Every one. Including me. We’ve all had them. The review that is scathing, brutal and toxic.

The immediate impulse is often to fire back defensively, ignore the review completely, or let it consume your thoughts for days. But there’s a third option that can be both cathartic and constructive. Eric Maisel, author of Toxic Criticism, suggests writing what he calls a “Dear Critic” letter that you never send. I’ve simply changed Critic to Reviewer in this post.

A Dear Reviewer letter is exactly what it says. It’s a written response to someone who has given you harsh, unfair or toxic feedback. The crucial element is that this letter is for your eyes only. You write it with complete honesty, holding nothing back, then file it away or delete it. The act of writing is what’s important, not the sending.

Unlike a public response or private message to the editor, this letter exists solely as a tool for your own emotional processing. It’s a safe space where you can be as angry, hurt, defensive, or vulnerable as you need to be. And there are no adverse consequences. Because actually sending such a letter wouldn’t result in a better review. Rather, you’d just end up on very bad terms with the journal.

Writing your feelings

Maisel is a psychologist, so he is focused on how to manage emotions. He says that when we receive harsh criticism, especially the kind that feels unfair or malicious, our emotional response is immediate and often overwhelming. We might feel anger, hurt, embarrassment, frustration, hopelessness or a cocktail of all these emotions. We can suppress these feelings or let them explode in an unhelpful way.

According to Maisel, writing a Dear Reviewer letter gives you permission to feel everything fully. You can write about how unfair the review felt, how it made you question your abilities or how angry you are at the reviewer’s tone. You acknowledge that your emotional response is valid and deserves attention.

The act of putting these emotions into words serves several purposes, he says. First, it validates your feelings rather than dismissing them. Second, it helps you understand exactly what aspect of the criticism triggered such a strong response. Was it the unfairness of the complaint? The personal attack on your character? The public nature of the criticism? Understanding your emotional triggers may help in the future.

The benefits of unfiltered writing

Maisel suggests that there’s something uniquely liberating about writing without an audience. When you know no one else will read your words, you can express thoughts and feelings that would be inappropriate or counterproductive to share publicly. You can call the reviewer unreasonable, vent about their unfair expectations, or admit how much their words hurt you.

This unfiltered expression serves as emotional release. Instead of carrying these feelings around with you, replaying the criticism in your mind, or letting it affect your interactions with others close to you, you download it all onto paper or screen. Maisel says that after writing such a letter, the emotional charge around the criticism significantly diminishes.

The writing process also helps you avoid the trap of dwelling, replaying, rumination. That endless mental loop where you replay the negative experience and imagine all the things you wish you could say. By putting your thoughts in writing, you give yourself permission to move on.

Processing the event

Once you’ve given your emotions their due, the Dear Reviewer letter becomes a tool for processing the actual event. This is where you can examine the criticism more objectively and separate any valid points from the toxic delivery.

Even the harshest reviews sometimes contain kernels of helpful insight buried underneath personal or unfair characterisations. By writing about the experience, you can ask yourself honest questions: Is there anything in this criticism that I can learn from? Was there a real issue that got lost in the reviewer’s vitriol? How could they have missed this? Did I not make this point well? How might I prevent similar situations in the future?

This processing phase also helps you contextualise the criticism. You might write about the reviewer’s possible motivations, the circumstances that led to their experience, or how this single negative voice compares to the many positive ones you’ve received. This broader perspective often shows that the toxic review says more about the reviewer than about you or your work.

Writing the Dear Reviewer letter

Start by setting aside dedicated time when you won’t be interrupted. The Dear Reviewer letter isn’t something to dash off between meetings. Give yourself at least 30 minutes to fully explore your thoughts and feelings.

Begin with complete honesty about your emotional state. Write something like “Dear ‘Anonymous Reviewer’, your review made me feel…” and don’t censor yourself. Use whatever language feels right to you, even if it’s not language you’d use in polite company.

Address specific points in the criticism that bothered you most. Explain why you disagree, what context the reviewer missed, or how their approach was unfair. This isn’t about being right or wrong, it’s about fully articulating your perspective. Allow yourself to be vulnerable. Write about any insecurities the criticism triggered, fears about your professional reputation, or concerns about whether you’re good at what you do. These feelings deserve acknowledgment too.

If you discover any valid points in the criticism, acknowledge them. You might write, “I hate to admit it, but you were right about...” This honest self-reflection is part of the processing.

After writing your Dear Reviewer letter, Maisel says there’s a strong possibility you’ll feel a sense of relief and clarity. You can now make decisions about how to move forward from a calmer place. You might decide the criticism contains valid points worth addressing. Or you might realise that the reviewer was dealing with their own issues and that their harsh words weren’t really about you. Or you might simply feel ready to let the whole experience go and focus on the many people who do appreciate your work.

Maisel says that the Dear Reviewer letter can be a powerful tool for transforming toxic criticism from a source of ongoing stress into a catalyst for self-understanding and growth. Im not entirely sure about that. I think it might just be a good way of managing that initial shock and outrage every time a vile review lands in your inbox. Because it’s likely the first one wont be the last.

But I do agree with Maisel that processing the experience means you reclaim your power from those who would tear you down and emerge ready to do what you judge is necessary.