Patheos Peeps: Adam McHugh on Dealing with Criticism

February 24, 2012 By Ellen Painter Dollar 2 Comments

Every Friday, I post a link to a blog post written by one of my fellow bloggers at Patheos, a web portal devoted to religion and spirituality. I encourage my blog readers to click through to read these posts, comment, and if you like what you read, follow these bloggers as well.

(OK, I’m cheating a little bit this week. Adam McHugh is actually not a Patheos blogger. Adam currently blogs on his own at Introverts in the Church. But he will be a Patheos Peep before the year is out. Patheos is publishing Adam’s next book, he will eventually join the Patheos blogging team, and he has written occasional posts for Patheos in the past.)

My book has been out for about a month, so I’m beginning to read reviews. To my relief and excitement, most are complimentary. But of course, not all of them are positive. This week, when a critic lifted a sentence from my book, presented it in isolation, and implied that I was saying something I was not saying (in fact, I was saying almost the opposite), my fingers were itching to dash off a response.

But I didn’t. I posted about the urge on Facebook, knowing many of my writer friends would sympathize. Then I kept my hands busy making a casserole. Adam sent me a link to a post he wrote recently on this very thing—a list of five things to do in response to criticism. I had already done #1, which is to Avoid the knee-jerk reaction. It’s excellent advice for writers and anyone whose work makes them vulnerable to public criticism.

Later that same day, I came across a post by Christina Katz (“The Prosperous Writer”) listing 10 Things Never to Do on Social Media. Number 3 on her list was:

Never walk away from a bully. Always stand up to a bully, even if only momentarily. If we don’t, soon the Internet will be crawling with bullies. On the Internet, a bully is a person who puts down others or treats others disrespectfully for their own glory.

For a minute, I was torn between her advice to confront online bullies, and Adam’s advice to avoid knee-jerk reactions. Many experienced folk in the writing/publishing world are with Adam on this. They advise not to engage with critics, particularly when they get personal or nasty. My “policy” is that I will gladly engage a critic if he/she presents an opposing viewpoint in a way that indicates that he/she is open to conversation; respects me as an equal, as knowledgeable, and as a fellow Christian (when I’m writing on a religious topic); and uses courteous language. But I won’t engage a critic if he/she is questioning my integrity, knowledge, faith, qualifications, etc.; willfully misinterpreting what I wrote for his/her own purposes; or resorting to name-calling or inflammatory language.

So what about those bullies? Do we engage or not?

I think it is unwise for the person being bullied to respond. As Adam says, such heat-of-the-moment “reactions do not help the conversation and usually only come across as immature and insecure.” Think about the classic schoolyard bully situation. Although the movies might occasionally give us a heartening scene where the bullied kid knocks out the bully with a hard right hook or a clever turn of phrase, in real life, bullies often take anything that their prey does and twist it for their own purposes. This happens in cyberspace too.

But I do think it’s important for other readers to stand up to bullies when we see them going after writers. Last month, I posted four ways to be a good neighbor in cyberspace, and #4 was: Stick up for your neighbors. Calling out bullies may not change their behavior, although I’ve seen a very few incidents where a nasty commenter has come back and owned up to being overly critical and mean-spirited after someone called them out. But even if standing up to the bullies doesn’t change them, it does improve the overall atmosphere online, and gives writers confidence to be bold and honest, knowing that others will support us when we are under attack. Again, this advice echoes experience with schoolyard bullies. Successful anti-bullying efforts often involve creating an atmosphere in which bullying is not socially acceptable, while standing up to bullies is.

Of course, not all criticism qualifies as bullying (thank goodness). But it all hurts on some level. Adam’s five recommendations are vital for writers if we are going to keep putting ourselves “out there,” knowing that some people will misinterpret or just not like what we have to say.

What do you think? Stand up to cyber-bullies? Or let our silence send a message that their contributions are not welcome, and that they don’t bother us (even if they really do)?

Filed Under: ethics, Uncategorized Tagged With: , , , , , , , 2 Comments

Revisiting the Daisies (Or, Why the Online World Isn’t All Bad)

February 23, 2012 By Ellen Painter Dollar 2 Comments

My Facebook news feed yesterday morning was full of good-byes from friends who will fast from social media for Lent. I understand this impulse; social media can be distracting and disconnecting, tempting us to interact with a computer screen instead of what is right in front of us—our work, our families, our friends, ourselves. My own Lent discipline involves being more intentional about how I use my computer when I’m working.

But the online world has also given me connections—real, substantial, life-changing connections—with people I would not otherwise know.

Today, in fact, I’m taking the day off from working because Rachel Stone, who blogs about faith, food, and justice at Eat with Joy, is visiting from New York. We were colleagues at the Christianity Today women’s blog, and we both have the brittle-bone disorder osteogenesis imperfecta (OI), as well as children who inherited OI. We’ve become friends not just because of the OI thing or the writing thing, but because we see the world in similar ways. Today, we’re meeting each other in person for the first time. But we’re already friends, thanks to our mutual involvement in the blogosphere, Facebook, and other online tools.

And last week, I got an e-mail out of the blue from a woman I don’t know (I’ll call her “J”). I am a huge fan of writer Catherine Newman, and sometimes comment on her blog. J, who also reads Catherine’s blog, learned about me and my work after reading one of my comments. She saw all the things we have in common; she also has a physical disability, is a mom, sees her childbearing decisions as wrapped up with her disability, and is a Christian. She e-mailed me last week to introduce herself, let me know she bought my book, and also ask how I deal with intrusive or bizarre comments that strangers are so prone to making when they are talking to someone with a physical disability.

That conversation fit right into this week’s posts focusing on people with disabilities, including Monday’s post on welcoming people with disabilities into your home, and Tuesday’s post on handicapped parking. So I dusted off an old favorite post from my former Five Dollars and Some Common Sense blog, revising and updating it a bit. Here, once again (and especially for J) is:

It’s Okay to Ask About the Daisies

Imagine that you were born with a rare birth defect that causes you to grow daisies out of one side of your head, instead of hair. Most people, trying to be polite, don’t say anything. But you know that when an acquaintance is describing you to someone else, they probably mention the daisy thing. “Oh, I’m sure you know who she is,” people say. “She’s the one with the daisies? Growing out of her head? You’ve seen her, right?”

Part of you is grateful for people’s polite discretion. You do not, after all, want to be defined as the Daisy Lady. You want people to know you as a good mom, a skilled worker, a nice neighbor. But sometimes you wish people would just ask about the daisies, because you know they notice the daisies, and God knows you notice them—they’re a little hard to miss when you’re brushing your teeth in front of the bathroom mirror—and it would be such a relief to just talk about the daisies and then move on.

This is, of course, a completely transparent metaphor for living with a physical disability like mine—osteogenesis imperfecta (OI).

One day several years ago, I was finishing up my laps at the pool when a man came over to ask if he could have my lane. As I was gathering my things, he said, “Forgive me for asking, but how did you get all those scars?” I told him about my fractures and surgeries, we chatted for a few minutes and then said good-bye. In any public place, especially one where my body is so exposed, some part of my brain is always wondering what people are seeing, if they wonder about what they see, if they make assumptions, and what assumptions they make. So having someone ask a simple question, then answering the question and moving on, was a relief. Much simpler than all that wondering.

I spent a lot of my early life wishing people would not notice my disability. When an elementary school teacher assigned us to write an autobiography, my mother kept asking me how on earth I could completely leave out the part about being born with OI and having 30-odd broken bones. I just didn’t want to write about that, I answered. Clearly, I am now making up for lost time, as OI is a central topic in my new book, my blog, and much of my other writing. It is often a relief to talk so openly about this central facet of my identity, both formally in my writing and informally, such as in that poolside conversation.

And yet, it can also be maddening and hurtful when outward traits associated with a disability inspire people to make inappropriate and intrusive comments, as well as assume that they know more about you than they really do.

People with disabilities have lots of opinions about how appropriate it is for others to ask about their illness or injury. Some welcome questions as a teaching opportunity. Others resent the invasion of privacy. I can go either way. I appreciated the pool guy’s question because he showed genuine interest in my answer, and made no assumptions.

In contrast, I resented a comment that a super-fit hiker made as Daniel and I were trudging up a steep, rocky path to a waterfall in Yosemite National Park in 1998. As he left us in his dust, hiker-dude gushed, “Wow, I really admire you for doing this,” which I interpreted as, “I can see you’re struggling because you look so tired and awkward, but good for you, lame girl.” Years later, a similar thing happened when I was marching in the town Memorial Day parade with my daughter’s Girl Scout troop. Parent after parent sidled up alongside me and said things like, “I just want you to know that I really admire you for doing this.” They admired me for marching in a parade? Gee. What a boost to my self-esteem. Just what every writer, parent, and good citizen wants to be admired for.

As a general rule, being admired really pisses me off. Admiring someone who is disabled isn’t really all that different than admiring someone who is beautiful. In both cases, it reduces a whole person to their most noticeable trait—a trait the person has very little control over.

But while I don’t want admiration, I’ve decided, finally, that I don’t mind questions, if they are polite, straightforward, honest, and free of preconceived notions. Sometimes the nicest thing you can do is just ask about the daisies.

It’s when the questions veer into assumptions—about what I can and can’t do, about how the outer scars relate to the inner person, about what I should be admired for—that I want to cover my daisy-head with a big old hat, and just be seen for what I am. A woman. A wife. A mother. A writer. A swimmer. A hiker.

Me.

Filed Under: disability, Uncategorized Tagged With: , , , , , , , 2 Comments

Four Ways for Writers to Be Good Neighbors in Cyberspace (and Promote Our Own Work Too)

January 24, 2012 By Ellen Painter Dollar 10 Comments

Writers today (particularly nonfiction) must have a robust online presence, particularly if we hope to earn some money by writing. Yet cyberspace is a tricky place. Most writers I know struggle with the same few issues: How to promote our work without being self-absorbed and obnoxious, how to avoid letting our self-worth get caught up in whether commenters like our writing (or not), and how to interact with other writers without being haunted by envy or unhealthy competitiveness. These issues can be of particular concern for Christian writers, because our faith demands that we love others as we do ourselves, put our self-worth firmly in God’s hands, and build up our brothers and sisters.

I think the secret to negotiating these tricky situations is for writers to be good neighbors in cyberspace, thus helping to foster healthy, respectful online communities. Here are four ways (with supporting scriptures even!) that writers can be good online neighbors as we nurture our own careers.

1.         Practice the golden rule.

So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets. (Matthew 7:12)

It seems so obvious, but I’m amazed at how often writers (including me) fail to do for other writers what we want for ourselves. What do we want? We want feedback. We want to know if our words make a difference. We want to know if readers agree or disagree. We want energizing debate without personal attacks. We want others to share what we’ve written to help us reach new audiences.

So give others what you most want. Comment on their posts, and not only when you disagree or see an opportunity to market your own book or blog post. Comment even when it’s just to say, “I think this is great. Thanks for writing,” If you don’t think it’s great, model respectful disagreement. Share others’ writing via Facebook, Twitter, and your blog.

2.         Share—because when we share, we all get what we need (i.e., Practice the “loaves and fishes” rule)

Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. (Luke 6:38)

As writers whose careers are built on book sales, page views, and speaking invitations, we have to promote our work. But we don’t want our Facebook followers and blog subscribers to run away screaming because we can’t shut up about ourselves.

The secret to self-promotion that doesn’t drive people crazy (or away) is to give more than you ask for. In the majority of your blog posts, Facebook status updates, and tweets, offer something of value (other than a proclamation that your new book will change their life).

That something of value can be a witty, poignant, or clever observation; a fresh take on an old topic or current news story; a link to someone else’s article, blog post, or book; a moving or funny video; or a tidbit of useful information.

If you get a reputation for sharing useful, thoughtful, engaging content, your self-promotion will become just another way you share good stuff with your audience, rather than an annoyingly constant stream of pleas for attention.

And as you share stuff from other writers, you’ll get the attention of those writers and their audiences, who just may turn around and tell people about the great new resource they found—you.

3.         Self-promote with confidence and honesty.

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. (Matthew 7:7)

For me, as a writer who spends significant time each day participating in the blogosphere and social media, it is second nature to share something I like by linking to it on Facebook, writing about it on my blog, or tweeting it. It’s not second nature for everyone. But if you ask for help spreading the word, many of your readers will be happy to oblige. People usually like to be told how they can help.

When you do self-promote, do it boldly. Don’t be coy or clever. Don’t be pleading or self-deprecating. Don’t try to make your self-promotion look like something it’s not. One of my pet peeves is when writers say, “Feel free to like my Facebook page/review my book/share this link.” The expression “feel free” is useful when we’re inviting people to do something they probably want to do, but may hesitate to do because they’re unsure of protocol, as in, “Feel free to raise your hand to ask a question any time.” News flash: People are not sitting by waiting for permission to love your work and shout their love from the rooftops.

If you want people to like your Facebook page, review your book, or tweet your link, ask them to. And don’t try to spin it. Try, “Please post a review of my book on Amazon,” instead of, “You have an opportunity to be one of the first people to review my book on Amazon!”

4.         Stick up for your neighbors.

Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves (Proverbs 31).

(This scripture refers to defending people who don’t have a voice—the poor, needy, and destitute. I’m taking some poetic license to apply it to the blogosphere.)

We’ve all seen comment sections get hijacked by negative commenters who are interested not in informed and respectful debate, but in undermining the blogger’s reputation and maligning their character.

Sometimes hijacking is a coordinated effort. I’ve been subjected to hijacks in which the commenters recruit like-minded folk and then go back to their Facebook pages afterward to give each other virtual high fives. Apparently some people never outgrew junior high. Sometimes things spiral out of control when one or two commenters misinterpret the blogger’s intent or twist his/her words, and then other folks come along who respond primarily to those commenters, rather than to the content of the post.

I’ve learned from hard experience that it’s rarely a good idea to respond directly to these sorts of commenters. They will just take my additional words and twist them. I will come across as defensive and desperate. I feel helpless—unable to speak up for myself as my original post and intentions are lost in the hubbub. I am extremely grateful when one of my writing colleagues or faithful readers speaks up in my defense, so I don’t have to.

So let’s speak up when we see a fellow writer under attack. Remind commenters of what the writer actually said, instead of what their detractors say they said. Model how to disagree with someone’s opinion without accusing him/her of being a terrible Christian/parent/American/writer/person. Name meanness and misinterpretation for what they are.

Speaking up for writers when they can’t speak up for themselves may not do anything to thwart hijackers. In fact, it probably won’t. But it does give writers a tremendous boost at a time when they are feeling helpless and alone.  That’s part of being a good neighbor.

I certainly don’t do all these things all the time; balancing self-promotion with other content is particularly tricky in these early weeks of my new book’s release. But I strive to be a good neighbor to colleagues and readers, and help build online communities marked by respect, sharing, honesty, and support. Being a good neighbor, and working alongside other good neighbors, makes it easier to learn from negative feedback rather than be damaged by it, rejoice in others’ successes, and cultivate a growing and responsive audience.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: , , , 10 Comments
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