Fun With Carbs

The theme of this week seems to be “blog haters.” You know, the people that come out of nowhere to post moronic comments on your blog posts in an attempt to drag you down.

Whether it’s a snarky comment on a minor error, an attack on your opinion or a general unconstructive critique regarding your content, it’s never fun. Especially when it gets personal.

The fact is, the interactive nature of the web allows for it, as much as that sucks sometimes. Anyone with an Internet connection has free reign to blast their opinions all over the place.

My first experience with reader comments came as a “housekeeper” of sorts. As an online producer for the Hartford Courant, I was there in 2007 when Tribune introduced the Topix forums to its sites. At first, I didn’t understand why reporters and editors so fiercely dreaded this system. But as soon as it launched, it was clear. These forums attracted such racist, classist, sexist and homophobic vitriol that I began to fear for the state of humanity. Much of the problem had to do with anonymity – users weren’t required to publish their real names or locations. And since the system was based on IP addresses, users that acted out enough to be “banned” were able to return as soon as they reset their modems.

Worst, these forums incensed reporters and columnists. Now their writing was completely open to critique, at a million times the intensity. People no longer had to pen letters to the editor, or even emails. And commenters’ attacks quickly became personal. I remember one reporter, pacing and cursing, because he’d made one small mistake and it turned into a field day for the forum. A columnist called my editor repeatedly, demanding that we track down a particularly awful commenter’s identity and address. Presumably so the columnist could confront them. (We didn’t have access to that information.)

My favorite story involved another columnist, who tracked down a poster after he hurled the ultimate offensive female slur at her. She quite literally called him out on it, phoning him at home to ask him to explain himself. (Something we all wish we could have done at some point.)

I didn’t fully understand their anger and frustration until I was writing full-time myself. If you’ve never done it, guess what. It’s hard to put yourself out there. Even if it’s a talent you’ve had your entire life, you’re always striving to tighten and streamline your sentence structure, use more descriptive language, make good connecting transitions and avoid cliches. But when you’ve finally put it all together, you’re really proud of the end product. I’ve been writing professionally for 10 years and I still get a thrill when I see my byline. (That is, if my first name is spelled correctly, which happens about 45% of the time.)

And when someone comes and shits all over it, it’s not fun. Never mind the fact that they’re probably angry about something else in their life, or they’re bored with no job or hobbies. Uncalled-for criticism sucks.

“Don’t sweat it,” say my more experienced reporter/blogger friends. And I know I should – and hopefully will – grow thicker skin. But it’s irritating nonetheless, and it adds nothing to society except ill will and frustration.

Writers are people, too. Whether you agree with their opinions/content choice/lifestyle or not, a little civility goes a long way.