BREAKING: frog in video game still startled by oncoming car in tenth level.
Have you read this?
I doubt you have, since most of you probably a) don’t live in NYC; b) don’t read the Times Magazine; and c) aren’t especially compelled to read a magazine article about blog drama.
(What IS a blog, anyway? Damn kids and their new words!)
Anyway, I read it. And this. And this. Oh, and can we forget this?
And as a result, I’m struck somewhere between shock at the idea of ANYONE being bested in a battle of the wits with Jimmy Kimmel (on Larry King Live, no less!) and rolling my eyes at YET ANOTHER blogger on the Internet bemoaning the consequences of oversharing.
Because she’s not really bemoaning. She’s writing for the Times Magazine and making some good coin to do it.
Because her “suffering” has less to do with the Big Bad Internets and more to do with that girl in every high school who argues loudly with her boyfriend in front of his locker every time the hallways are crowded. Her life isn’t necessarily tougher than yours. She’s just more noisy about it.
And she’s the only one startled when the boy walks away.
I’ve been blogging under my own name for more than four years, which puts me in the “newbie” category for some, and the “old hat” category for others. I’ve spent that time as a “personal” blogger, which is the random category you end up in when you or your subject matter don’t fit any other popular designation. Or you’re, you know, personal.
I write about whatever I want to write about, and I don’t write about whatever I don’t want to write about. It’s up to me, 100%. Which is why I have no one to blame but myself if things go sideways: I’m completely accountable for every single word that appears here.
If I let myself get tempted (or even goaded) into sharing something too personal, it’s me that gets to cringe until the entry falls off my front page. If my reticence to share certain things bores people, then it’s me that has to live with being “dull.” If I write something crappy, well, add “crappy” to my resume.
Even if I’m writing for someone else, somewhere else… hell, it’s still up to me. I can choose to walk away from a stupid assignment, even if my bank account takes a hit for the sake of my ethics.
I do like to share about who I am, what I love, and what I don’t love. I do like to walk through the things I’m learning, and to learn from the people that stop by here. I do have the essential authorly desire to be read. I do like feedback. I do like conversation. I put my stuff out publicly because that’s what works for me.
And I am grateful for the way my writing career has launched itself from this space.
But the flip side is, I’m culpable the second I hit “publish”. If any shit is going to hit any fan, it’s going to fly in my direction.
That’s why I think before I write.
That’s why I avoid posting on the “controversy trifecta”: sex, politics and religion.
That’s why I don’t malign my family, my co-workers, my past or current mates, or my friends on my blog.
That’s why I check every harsh word I’m tempted to use against the real value of posting it. Will I feel better? Will the problem be solved? Will it end there? Am I going to wish I hadn’t done it in a year? An hour?
And that’s where Ms. Gould comes in: no matter how startled or wounded people pretend to be at the outcome of their actions, most people who write for very long on the Internet are WELL aware of what will happen when they post certain things.
If you yammer on LiveJournal about how much you hate your boyfriend’s best friend, someone will eventually send him the link. If you mock your coworkers without hesitation all over your Blogger, someone in your IT department is going to object to being called an “indoor kid” and make sure your supervisor gets the URL. If you post pictures of your boobs on your Facebook, people are going to look at your boobs (and either like them enough to share them, or mock them enough to, well… share them.)
If you post anything drunkenly anywhere, well… all bets are off, then.
Even if you think no one knows you’re doing it. Even if you lock up your privacy settings like a drum.
But if that’s what you like, and that’s what you want, more power to you. If you’re ready to man (or woman) up for the reaction, enjoy. I don’t have problems with anyone doing anything online if they can live with the results.
However.
The conceit of feeling exposed? The conceit of feeling victimized? The conceit of being held hostage by your own lethal cocktail of narcissism and naivete? The conceit of curling up in a fetal position when the world closes in on you?
(What, nobody lies prostrate anymore? Pansies.)
NO.
The last call is ALWAYS YOURS.
If you can’t or won’t defend it/stand behind it/sue it into oblivion, you’re going to end up paying for it. And the only person you’ll have to blame is YOU.
If someone else writes about you, well… you’ve got some room there to be offended and hand-talky. Unless, of course, you started something with them, or they’re just reposting something you put elsewhere. Because… yep, you got it… it began with you.
Is youth an excuse? Is fame an excuse? Is peer pressure an excuse? Is innocence an excuse? I’m going to say… naaaaaaaaah. Especially if catharsis was your only concern, or the approbation of dumbasses.
Which is what most people who write crap on the Internet are looking for. Period.
And now, apparently, people who write for the Times Magazine.
There are no victims here except the people in Emily’s life who gave up their privacy on the same laptop-shaped altar on which she sacrificed hers.
All you have is a blogging, bed-lolling, boyfriend-ruining, Kimmel-whacked, overpublished, overhyped hipster heroine for the confessional age… and one literary institution that just made a judgment call akin to getting a tattoo of My Little Pony after too many Jello shooters.
The Web will always need a balance of scholars, clowns, tarts, vicars, villains, Robin Hoods, Marilyns, Dorothys… you name it. There’s a standing welcome for everyone, whether you take the heat in the kitchen, or stay in the dining room with people eating pie and telling stories.
You’re even welcome to feel some regret when you slide in the wrong direction now and then.
But if you cannot own up to your role and your truth and that shot of your ass at Mardi Gras, I see no need to celebrate or indulge or mourn you ANYWHERE.
This is not what all bloggers do. This is not what all writers do. This is not what all young women do. This is not what all people do.
But this is the part of new media that our established media sources jab their fingers at as if to say, “Look! Look! PartyAngel69 is no Dorothy Parker.”
Damn right. No one ever will be.
But most of us aren’t PartyAngel69, either.
Occasionally we think first.
And then we write better.
May 26th, 2008 at 4:00 pm
I didn’t read any of the links because…um…I don’t care. However, I stand on the same side of the stage you do for the curtain call. If you can’t live with what you are about to say being spread all over someplace you wouldn’t choose to spread it…don’t even say it.
Love…love…love your writing.
May 26th, 2008 at 4:43 pm
The article was entertaining to me in the same way that American Idol tryouts always are; a big bucket of reality getting dumped over the heads of kids who thought they were special.
But on a larger level, re: all the Facebooker’s MySpacer’s, Idol wannabees and others; what is the void that these people are attempting to fill with all their “oversharing”? And is this a recent phenomenon, or has it been there for generations waiting for the internet age to finally give it a voice?
People today post things on the internet that most folks twenty years ago wouldn’t tell a shrink. I’m not sure that’s progress…
May 26th, 2008 at 5:38 pm
I’m not in the proper mental condition to give this post the praise it deserves after a really busy day, but I really enjoyed it.
May 26th, 2008 at 6:14 pm
Excellent post, Meg - maybe it should be required reading for anyone who’s thinking of starting a blog account anywhere.
:-)
May 26th, 2008 at 9:30 pm
Approbation of dumbasses. That’s good.
May 27th, 2008 at 8:28 am
It’s really pretty simple; You write it, you wear it. And, the internet doesn’t do laundry very well.
May 27th, 2008 at 8:28 am
Two things: in response to, “how/where you draw the line re: mentioning friends/fam online”… obviously I’m a new blogger and still learning, but I think you have to err on the side of being extremely conservative. If you do identify someone by name or relationship, the front pg of the NY Times rule applies (aka anything they’d be mad to see you put there is out).
One other (v. minor) point: I totally agree that Gould did some stupid things, should have known better, and got what was coming to her. But to be fair, she did own up to her role to some extent. Instead of erasing everything from the Internet she did leave it up and basically said, “this is what I did, it’s part of me now, I’m accepting it.” I think we’ve got to give her at least a shred of respect for that, even though, yes, the mag should not have indulged her by running this article and masking it as a ‘coming of age’-type thing. She gives the blog world a bad rep.
May 27th, 2008 at 8:31 am
I guess I didn’t read any “Poor me, look what the nasty Internet did to me.” into it. Yes, she complains of having felt exposed, but she does admit that it was entirely her own fault. I read it as a cautionary tale. One that most of us with common sense shouldn’t need to read, but I’m sure we’re all aware that common sense isn’t a pervasive trait in society.
If I think there is any chance that someone might not like anything I want to say about them on my blog, I ask first. Of course, it seems a good rule in general not to ever say anything about someone on the internet that you wouldn’t say directly to his or her face, even if you don’t think they’ll ever find it. They might.
Someone asked me whether knowing that my ex-boyfriend reads my blog makes me hold back on what I might otherwise write. Nope. I never imagined that by dating me, he had given up his right to privacy and I won’t stop respecting that just because we broke up. Even if I wanted to flame him (which I don’t - he is a genuinely decent guy) I have to assume that any hypothetical future boys will have access to my blog, and who would take a chance on dating someone who has a record of defaming exes online?
May 27th, 2008 at 8:35 am
Right on Sister! Couldn’t have said it better myself. I found the article to be a gratuitous ‘oh, woe is me’ piece written (and not well I might add) by a narcissistic, immature young woman who would prefer to blame the external rather than the internal for her choices. Was this piece supposed to be about the downfalls of blogging or the downfalls of acting inappropriately in a public forum?
May 27th, 2008 at 8:58 am
Well said! I’ve certainly given into the temptation in the past to overshare and paid the price with my in-laws, so I work hard to edit myself. I think that part of the problem is that writers are taught to write about what hurts, about what’s got the most emotional charge because that’s where the best writing comes from, and those topics are always the most personal and intimate.
But after a while it becomes a crutch, and people just depend on that tidbit of personal information to keep readers hooked instead of actually approaching their writing as a craft.
I say all of this as a reader of blogs, and not a writer, because I also don’t devote enough time to writing any more.
Anyway, great article.
May 27th, 2008 at 9:29 am
Thank you guys so much for your comments. I appreciate all the thoughts!
I do, to address what many of you said, sense that she DOES regret the things she’s done on some level. I’ve made my share of mistakes, too, and I know what it’s like to put yourself out there and feel like an idiot.
I wish I sensed that regret as MUCH as you do, but I don’t. I think all of this has made a career for her that she would have taken much longer to develop otherwise. And she’s a great writer — who knows how far she would have gone without scandal.
But the point is, she was in a position to make better choices, and the bad choices she’s made have benefited her professionally as much as they’ve harmed her personally. She worked for a website that parlayed exposure into profits… I don’t think she was all that naive to how the game works.
I also don’t buy the youth argument quite as much — I think most people I know at 20 (people of varying backgrounds and temperaments, even) could have told you that there are certain things you just don’t have a right to do to other people, no matter how much others goad you on or push your buttons or make it easy for you to do it.
She is owning up to her actions in this article, but I think that’s a very different thing than owning them. Wouldn’t the ultimate ownership be to finally put others first and stop putting their lives on display?
Yes, we all make mistakes. I’m an idiot a good portion of the time. But while I can drag myself into the spotlight to show you that, it’s not fair for me to drag others with me, whether it’s on my blog or a cover story for Times Magazine.
Someone asked me if I’d write the story in her position, but I honestly can’t wrap my head around ending up there. How much money is worth hurting the people you love(d) again?
I know… bet you’re thinking, “Sour grapes, huh? Bet you wish you wrote well enough to get a Times cover!”
But even if I never write enough for that, I’m just happy to take a path I can live with.
May 27th, 2008 at 5:31 pm
Posts like this remind me why I love your insight and writing Meg. I felt the exact same way you felt after reading that Times article last week, I just kept shaking my head with each page turn.
May 27th, 2008 at 6:17 pm
Didn’t anyone ever teach that poor girl, “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”?
May 28th, 2008 at 10:26 am
That article annoyed the shit out of me, for most of the same reasons it did for you. People need to grow up, bloggers especially.
May 29th, 2008 at 6:51 am
I have to agree with you Meg.
Each and every one of us that choose to own/run/publish a blog, in any form should be willing to “own” the screw ups, regrets, and joys of that medium they themselves chose to be a part of. Alas, this woman chose to…Wave a hand at it, and say yeah, I did it, now I have to live with it.
There has been many a time when even I myself have had to stop the writing process when it was going in a direction I never intended to go. It seems to me this young woman said, “Full speed ahead, and Damn the torpedoes!” and now, her 15 minutes of fame, is at the cost of people who actually cared about her.
I’ve been an admirer of your blog for some time now, and this post solidifies that point. I’ve seen the highs and lows here, but you’ve retained the integrity you started out with, and became a better person for it.
This young woman on the other hand, sold her soul for a career. Even I, couldn’t wrap my head around doing something like that.
Yeah, I’ve been known to make some pretty stupid choices in what I post in my blog, or even the podcast. But at least I’m willing to totally “own” those mistakes, and move on. Seems to me, she got what she wanted, and that was that.
June 8th, 2008 at 12:44 pm
Hi Meg,
Seeing as your blog is the only one I read I don’t feel I have sufficient experience to comment other than to say it appears to be a case of a simple moral value… “treat others as you would like to be treated.”
I’ve no time for people who bemoan the woes of their own indiscretions. Perhaps taking ownership of your actions is the first courageous step any potential writer should consider before proceeding to walk all over friends and relationships.