Writing about deeply personal events can leave a writer feeling vulnerable when reader comments roll in. That may very well have been the case with Taffy Brodesser-Akner, who earlier this year wrote about the post-traumatic stress disorder she experienced after childbirth. Brodesser-Akner described her reaction to reader comments Wednesday in The New York Times:
“You should consider not having any more babies.”
“I feel sorry for her son. Can you imagine going through life with this woman?”
She explained that the intent of her Times post was not to express how hurt she felt. Instead, she wished to explore “why online commenters are so gratuitously nasty; why, when given the opportunity to have an educated disagreement with an author or other readers, they use the space allotted to spew venom instead of presenting a well-reasoned argument,” she wrote.
But not all venom is meant to be poisonous. Not all “gratuitously nasty” comments are meant to be gratuitous or nasty.
Writers benefit from the skill and gift of being able to crystalize fuzzy thoughts and emotions into succinct words, and a writer who can do that about something as personal as post-traumatic stress after childbirth is probably more skilled and gifted (and experienced) than most. Consider it a blessing when trying to explain complex concepts.
It’s a curse when all that emotional energy is confronted with the dull, blunt force of readers who may not be as graceful with their words. Pity, concern, sarcasm and humor aren’t always conveyed easily by experienced writers, and even less so by those who don’t write for a living. The inflection that readers hear in their own voices, and the emotion they feel in their own hearts, don’t always come across in their written words.
That’s not to say that “gratuitously nasty” comments don’t exist — of course they do. Some axes won’t be denied a grinding. But writers must develop thick skins when the criticism crashes down on them. If the writing is accurate and, in the case of Brodesser-Akner, if it’s emotionally truthful, then the writer has fulfilled her or his obligation to the reader. The writer may choose to respond to comments or blow them off by choice.
Reader comments can be harsh and sometimes hurtful. Suck it up and move on.
Ooof, man, can they be nasty. I previously wrote solely for print publications. Once I started running my own local news site – well, I thought my skin was thick before. Now it’s as thick as a rhino’s. A rhino with armor made of other rhinos.
When my site was small, it wasn’t such a big deal. Now that my readership is in the tens of thousands, the tone of the comments is shifting. I make it a practice now to guide things along. I brush off criticism against me (though sometimes I shoot a barb back. Very immature), but the true test of being a good moderator is jumping on flame wars before they start and prodding them into more thoughtful discussion. A lot of times it requires playing devil’s advocate – but overall I think it makes for a more welcoming experience and drives even more traffic.
I just gave a quick look at the comments on her Salon article. I didn’t go through every one, but it appears she never tried to jump into the conversation. I think this is a big problem journalists have – they don’t realize that writing for online isn’t “just like writing for print.” There’s a level of interactivity, and the wisest way for them to tell the story is to be involved with the discussion afterwards. Usually when people see you’re paying attention, they’re more respectful.
My two shekels.