The Keyboard is Mightier than the Sword

Sometimes the lessons in life teach you only what you already knew but hadn't yet admitted to yourself.

I re-learned one again last week, and figured I'd share it with you. This blog has served a great purpose in my life. I have always known I loved to write. I've been a voracious reader my entire life, and have a serious appreciation for talented writers. I don't consider myself a "writer" per se, but I do enjoy greatly the satisfaction of putting words to thoughts, pen to paper and, more frequently, typed words to a cyber page.

When Doogie Howser used to type away in his computer-journal, I was jealous. Yes, even back then. I'd never been very good at keeping up with a daily written journal, and I never got into the "keep one in a word document on your computer" thing, despite having tried it in college. But I really wanted to be the type of person who would journal. Not the "I am happy today" or "I like so-and-so this week" kind of things, but the observances and stories of life. I wish I had stacks of weathered old journals of creative and not-so-creative writing hidden in my closet.

But, alas, that's not me.

Blogging, though, has proven to be the spark that I needed to energize the wordsmith in me. The creative juices were there, but needed to be nurtured. Given a place to stretch out and grow stronger. The writing that I wasn't doing for work anymore (which is a sign that I'm now at an agency where they employ truly gifted creative/corporate communications writers to do those things) created a gap in my brain that went unfilled for over a year. I was missing something. I didn't even know that it was a lack of an outlet for a true creative expression until I began to jot and blog about things that made me laugh.

At the beginning, this blog was just that. A place to tell the stories that happened to me as I explored and experienced Chicago from a commuter's perspective. More precisely, the hilarious and ridiculous incidents that occurred on public transportation, or in cabs, as I made my way through life in Chicago. Hence, the highly un-clever, highly tongue-twisterish name.

But, as time went on, I realized that there were far funnier things that happened, and more frequently too, that didn't have anything to do with commuting. It felt like there had to be a way to infuse the two ideas together—basically, I'm a Chicagoan, I'm a Commuter, and I have a Commentary on a few things. Hey—that still works!

So, I began to write. I began to feel the stories bubble to the top of my consciousness. I looked at the world around me differently, through a lens of a creative writer, a recorder of events, a commentator on all things possible. It opened up the entire city (and my life in general) to a new perspective, and a new outlet for storytelling, which is the entire point of this. I knew that I was a storyteller—I've blogged many times about how my 20+ year friendships have thrived on them teasing me for my backtracks, my segues and my long-windedness. But, I loved it. It gave me a forum in which to tell my stories. Alone, and without censorship or interruptions.

While I knew that going in people would read this, or at least I hoped, I wasn't quite expecting the viral connectivity that results from having your thoughts "out there" in cyberspace. I didn't realize that so many people would literally stumble upon my page, and therefore, into my life, by merely searching out keywords, topics or by clicking other people's blogrolls of authors they like. I knew that my mother would pass it on to her neighbors, that my sister would share it with her friends, that my father would share it with his family, and that my colleagues would soon find out about it. I knew all of that, but the reality of it is entirely different.

Now, people are actually bookmarking my words? Referring to them daily as a source of laughter, amusement, or to satisfy a simple curiosity or fill a bored moment in time? Wow. That's entirely different. And, I realized that some level of censorship MUST happen as I detail the events of my life, and the events of those I am fortunate enough to meet along the way. I respected people's inherent privacy issues and need for some boundaries. I use first names only wherever required, and always let someone know that the story will be told. The intimacies are left off the table, and the details are only there when needed to fully elucidate my point. All in all, people are proud to be included, as you can see in some of the blog comments that feature phrases like "blog mention!" by the said mentioned friend. They love it, and so do I.

I also, however, have learned the consequences of doing so in a public forum such as this. I wasn't quite prepared.

The good news is that of the reactions I've received, 99.9% of them have been positive, rewarding, encouraging and supportive. Last week, however, proved to me that when you put yourself out there, sometimes the feedback isn't so pretty.

I received a comment on a post last week, that I have reproduced below that made me feel so differently about this whole blog thing that I needed a few days to calm down. I was hurt, ticked off and, sadly, I allowed it to "get to me" for a few days. I must credit my sister, and my dear friends Liz and Jenny for taking my side (atta girls!) and for believing in me enough to bolster me back up and kick me up onto the horse again. And, publishing their support of me. As they should. Thank God for old friends, right?

The comment in question was this:

Anonymous said...
You know, I've read a few entries on your blog due to the link on Facebook. I'm not sure if there's an actual theme anymore and I'm not sure why people keep a blog who don't have a purpose for it. Saying that, there's a difference between snarky in a clever way (i.e., gawker.com) and being judgmental and critical in a way that's not particularly funny. I think your recent entries seem to have tones of superiority and are less about laughing at you than laughing at others. I suppose I should stop reading it. July 2, 2008 3:29 PM

Now, on some levels, I do hate to give this Anonymous (read: wimpy) reader and commenter any more credit, or time in the spotlight, than he/she likely deserves. I resent the rude nature of the opinion; however, I know that it is just that. ONE OPINION. What burns me up the most is the sheer refusal to a) own up to his/her identity, giving me some sense of where he/she is coming from and b) the complete lack of understanding that I believe is demonstrated in this comment.

First of all, if you found my link on Facebook, then that means you're one of my listed "Friends." I don't befriend strangers, and therefore, the author of the comment is someone that I know. At least, it is someone that I used to know. It could be a high school friend, a childhood friend, a past work acquaintance, a Chicago friend, a relative, a college buddy or a sorority sister. Wherever he/she came from, I wish he/she would have come all the way forward. Give me a name so I can at least respect your opinion.

Secondly, the author clearly is a blog rookie. An amateur. A blog, as my friend Liz put it, is a place for an "author" (word used loosely) to express opinions, thoughts, stories or comments about things that interest him or her. In this case, I am the vulnerable one, but also I am the one that is brave enough to go there.

My blog is my place to share my opinions and my stories in my voice in my tone and with my choice of words and pictures. Note the repeated use of "my." Yes, this is my forum. If you don't like it, Anonymous, then don't read. I appreciate the free speaking nature of this world where you can express your thoughts to someone else, and be heard for it, but I resent the fact that you come to this forum in an uneducated manner.

While I can't respond to the "tone" comment he/she made (because that is his/her opinion), and I'm sorry if the humor I expressed (or at least attempted to express) was lost on the reader.

I can say this, though: the "theme" of this blog has been explained. I'm a Chicagoan. I'm a Commuter. And I'm Commenting. Period. The "theme" has not changed. The course of my life has expanded the breadth of topics that fall into my commenting scope, and therefore, the range of issues/stories I discuss has reached beyond simply the CTA. Besides, there is only so much you can say about crazy cab drivers, broken down busses, loud passengers, rude people, trains and planes. Right? I refuse to defend for one more moment why my blog discusses what my blog discusses.

Let's move on, shall we?

The beauty of our world is this: I can write what I want, when I want, and I can publish it here for free. Who reads it is another story. I hope that my true readers (I shall not use the word "fans" for fear of sounding any more superior than my Anonymous commenter already has accused me of) will continue to support me and provide me with the fodder, the fun and the foundation from which I write.

And, if I can make at least one person smile today, isn't that enough?