You Can't Please Everyone, So You've Got To Please Yourself

Wow. What a week.

I've been writing this blog for over a year now and during that time I've received very few complaints and any criticism I've been given has been both constructive and helpful. Friends and strangers alike have been supportive and encouraging and not a single person has ever been nasty or condescending. I've suspected for awhile that hearing nothing but good things was far too good to last, but I didn't suspect the good train would derail over something as miniscule as a popular series of books.

I can write about boobs, I can write about poop, I can write about women's rights and how I'm sick of women being called fat for not being a size zero. I can write about Osama Bin Laden, Government bailouts, and which politicians I would kick in the junk, given the opportunity. I've written about all of these things and more and no one has so much as batted an eyelash. But when I write about not liking a pathetically written, plot-less book trilogy suddenly all hell breaks loose.

Exactly one week ago when I posted my "Fifty Shades Of Oy Vey blog, I honestly didn't think much of it. In fact, my only real concern at the time was offending my sister-in-law, because she has a book review blog and I didn't want her to think I treading on her turf, so to speak. When she assured me that she understood my blog was less a book review and more of a manifesto against the bad books of the world, I proceeded to post with her blessing. I figured this would be one of those blogs that was more about me getting something that was bugging me off of my chest and less about how many people would read it. In fact, I wrote it thinking I would honestly be surprised if anyone other than my regular readers (who I love, by the way) even read it at all. I had no idea that this would be the blog that would finally piss people off. But piss them off it did and not a person in the world seemed shy about sharing their opinions with me.

I've learned over the years that the world is full of crazy people and nowhere is this fact more true than on the internet. Crazies come out in full force when protected by the cloak of internet anonymity and a real nut job can be hidden behind that cutesy Twitter handle with a Hello Kitty profile picture. Believe me, I know, because all of the Hello Kitty-loving crackpots in the internet world were out to get me this last week.

Because of the fact that nothing pleases a crazy person more than you instantly defending yourself, I decided to let the worst of my haters stew over their comments for awhile (assuming, of course that they hadn't moved on to harass someone new) while I composed my own responses, on my own time, on my own blog where I can delete any comments I don't like, if I were so inclined (maniacal laugh, maniacal laugh). Therefore, the following is my list of my top 3 favorite nonconstructive comments and my response to said comments:

1) "You're a talentless c**t!" (Via Twitter)
First of all, I'd love to say "Back at ya", but unlike the person who left this comment (anonymously at that) I like my criticism to be a little more creative. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but if you're aiming at insulting me, it might help to do it in a way that doesn't make me laugh at your complete and total lack of originality. Secondly, I have a number of faults and questionable personality traits (most of which I share openly and proudly on this very blog) but if there is one thing I know I'm not, it's talentless. I will toot the hell out of my own horn when it comes to this blog, loudly and unapologeticly. Better yet, I have some amazing friends who will even toot it for me. I may never be as famous as E.L. James or ever get a book deal of my own, but if it means I'm not writing crap, I'm more than okay with it.

2) "I'm going to tell everyone I know to read this blog so they all know how terrible it is!" (Via Twitter)
Attention people of the world: If you're looking for a way to insult a writer, the words "I'm going to tell everyone I know to read this" are not going to do the trick. I want people to read what I write. It is, after all, the main reason I have a blog to begin with. In fact, I feel like I owe this particular crazy a big, steaming bowl of gratitude for this comment. Thank you for encouraging people to read my work! You're super awesome! By the way, I'd be remiss if I didn't point out that one of the main points of my '50 Shades' blog was that people love to read something controversial and people like the ones who left comments like this (yes, there were several) actually proved that point. If you really hated it, you wouldn't read it and you certainly wouldn't encourage anyone else to read it. Simple as that. As it is, the '50 Shades' blog is now my second most-viewed blog. So thanks again!

3) "You could live to be 100 and never write like E.L. James" (Via freelanced.com) 
That's the goal! I really couldn't agree more and thank you for putting it into words for me! Cheers!

The point of this blog is this: I've spent the better part of a year appreciating the praise and waiting in sweaty anticipation for the criticism. I figured the minute someone said something bad about my writing, no matter how much faith I have in it, I'd be so hurt that I'd instantly retreat to my car, blast Taylor Swift's "Mean"  and cry (now that I've admitted in writing that I might actually do this, this blog will self-destruct five seconds after you're done reading it). The real surprise was that I didn't feel like never blogging again just because some random internet idiot felt the need to defend these books with a few choice, mean words. I'd be a liar if I said this whole experience didn't make me wonder why people can't respect a simple difference of opinions, but for the most part these comments just made me laugh and roll my eyes. Maybe it's because the good words still outweigh the bad or because I have more faith in myself and my writing than I thought, but either way, it feels like a win.

I'm stronger than I thought I was and that, my friends, is a damn good feeling.