Haters Gonna Hate

It’s been a long BlissQuest tradition to allow all sorts of hate mail through the filter. While I know I can block it, it seems silly not to allow the dissenters a chance to have their say then allow them to be called out on their spew. Bring it to the light. I don’t believe in hiding their shame for them by deleting the comments or filtering them out. They can either own the consequences in public – or slink away.

Haters are always gonna hate.

This response is specifically for “George” who left a message in the comment box yesterday on the post Dreaming in Colors. I believe “George” is a fake name who used a fake email to register before posting from this IP address (24.22.77.239) somewhere in a one miles radius of the Comcast relay at 63^rd and Andresen in Vancouver, Washington. All pertinent stats have been recorded in the database where suspected cyber-bullies are monitored. Turns out, most of my hate mail is sent by the same five individuals, different IP’s and changing commentator names.

Unfortunately, when you live a life out loud like I do, it just comes with the territory. I’m alright with that because I reserve the right to reprint and belittle all my crazy comments.

George wrote:

“This post is really just tragic.  You are living your life with a dogged belief in something that simply isn’t true, at least when it comes to writing: “Success is 10% inspiration, 90% perspiration.”  You are sunk so deeply into this falsehood that you’ve lost all perspective.

You state that “Quality can be learned, craft conditioned.”  This is only partially true.  Of course one can always improve, polish, etc.  But being a good writer (let alone a financially successful writer!) requires an inherent gift, a natural skill. . .and you just don’t have it.  You could spend the rest of your life editing and re-writing, but nothing is going to change the forced, awkward, stilted quality of your stories.

It’s odd to hear you talk about how writing makes you happy, because it sure doesn’t sound that way.  You don’t really describe getting lost in your characters.  You describe a slog, a grind; and it shows in your work.  I think this is more about stubbornness.  “I said I would, and by golly, I will!”  At any cost?  That’s sad, and it’s immature.  Simply digging in your heels is often NOT the answer.

This is where your clarity and perspective have become issues: your conviction and your determination – however noble – have blinded you to the reality of your situation.  You’re not a gifted writer, and no amount of hard work, research, marketing, or editing can change that.

You may think you’ve gotten over your vanity, but that kind of stubbornness IS vanity.

I follow your blog because your life itself is sometimes interesting, despite it being poorly written.  But it’s painful to read at times, and I frequently find myself wishing for a hard copy and a red pen.  I’ve read some of your other work, too, and unfortunately it’s not any better.

Not to say that you won’t get published again!  Lots of mediocre writers have bestsellers.  So I wouldn’t presume to tell you to quit.  But if you could only see the truth, then you could take a more rational approach to playing the hand you were dealt.  You’ll never be able to work with what you DO have until you stop trying to be something you’re not.”

Dear “George”,

If you’d read more posts on my writing, you would have noted one very important detail.

I’ve been mentored and trained by one of the most badass editors of the writing craft to practice in the last 20 years. With six books on the market about the craft of writing and publishing, I trust her judgment implicitly.

Yours, I do not.

If someone is going to make a dent in my opinion of my work, it will be her – a qualified professional who doesn’t hide shamefully behind artificial monikers.

Luckily, in the years I’ve worked with her, she has helped me grow a thick skin, preparing me for the world of constant rejection in publishing.

Since people who read me regularly know this, they know it’s futile to attack from that angle. It would be a waste of time.

Therefore, I can only conclude, you didn’t know this and your chief intent was to inflict harm. Your aim was to wound.

Once I realized that fact, I actually felt bad for you.

No, I wasn’t pitying you for your apparent lack of humanity, or blatant envy, or the embittered writing story leaking out through your rant like a putrid infection.

I felt sorry for you because you failed so miserably to offend me when you were obviously-TRYING! SO! HARD!

Trying your little heart out.

Poor, impotent thing.

I mean, I sympathize. I might be a lousy writer, but I’m not inhuman. I’m not oblivious to the sad plights of others who fail at their aims. I remember how bad it sucks to be the fat kid in high school gym class running the mile – twice – because my first attempt was laughable. I remember silently hating the other kids who were better runners or skinnier or faster. So totally, I feel your pain.

But chin up, George!

The good news is that – IT GETS BETTER! High school will end and your life will feel so much less toxic and congested with all that petty drama and infantile frustration. You’ll be able to grow up, have a life, stop stalking other people’s blogs you claim to despise! You’ll be able to stop reading their work when it so clearly pains you to do so. You’ll be free!

You won’t have to resort to being a cyber-bully hiding behind anonymity to protect your fragile claims to a truth only you can imagine.

You can take some advice from Stewart, and stand in front of a mirror and recite: “I’m good enough. I’m smart enough and gosh darn it! PEOPLE LIKE ME!”

Maybe you can even take up a nice relaxing hobby like macramé or etiquette.

When you’re out of high school, George, you also realize; Life is hard on everyone. There’s just no sense in trying to make it harder, on anyone else or even yourself.