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88 Comments
Oh, wow, you were in the Times? Good job!
Interesting. I guess on the internet it’s so much easier to cast hateful comments than stones….
Oh i wish I had the wings
of Noah’s pretty white dove
so I could fly this raging river
to reach the one I love
But I have no wings
And the water is so wide
I’ll have to row a little harder
it’s just in blogs we fly,
in my blogs we fly.
You’ve got to shake your fists at lightning now
You’ve got to roar like forest fire
You’ve got to spread your light like blazes
All across the sky
They’re going to aim the hoses on you
Show ‘em you won’t expire
Not till you burn up every passion
Not even when you die
Come on now
You’ve got to try
If you’re feeling contempt
Well then you tell it
If you’re tired of the silent night
Jesus well then you yell it
Condemned to wires and hammers
Strike every chord that you feel
That broken trees
And elephant ivories conceal
still all about you, eh? i’m glad you find yourself so fascinating as soon you’ll probably be the only one.
Dear Ms. Gould (I hope), Greetings. I’m a greenhorn when it comes to social networking sites. Indeed I became aware of you via your Times piece. Two things, Ms. Gould: First, how has all this drama affected you
psychologically ? In light of your age would you consider your experiences to be just one of many stimuli that will soon result in Ms. Emily Gould, the mature adult stage ? Second, after reading your piece I didn’t feel any sympathy, or even empathy for you. And I wondered if this was because I’ve become so jaded or you just couldn’t…………
Sincerely,
Ralph Africano
Wow, ranks right up there as some of the most pointless, simpering, self-obsessed drivel I’ve read outside of a teenager’s dairy. Then again, I don’t see the interest in Paris Hilton either, so maybe I’m missing the point…apparently, watching someone repeatedly and publicly make an ass of themselves holds attraction for some. Anyway, I go now…real life beckons.
I thought that your piece was increadibly well written, thoughtful, reflective. It was navel-gazing, but that’s probably what the editors at the Times wanted from you. Keep on keeping on.
screw all the negativity.
honestly, many blogs are about self-exploration, including my own.
to each his own.
why criticize?
“I’ve heard the story of Narcissus. I thought it was a bore. Not NEARLY as interesting as the story of MY life.” - Justin Bond
Women and gay men are narcissists, Jews have all the money, blacks are uppity, the list goes on and on. These are the things we hear when people claim power.
Joni’s fine, but insert Kathleen Hanna lyric here.
xoxo
Everything comes and goes
Marked by lovers and styles of clothes
Things that you held high
And told yourself were true
Lost or changing as the days come down to you
Down to you
Constant stranger
Youre a kind person
Youre a cold person too
Its down to you
It all comes down to you.
You go down to the pick up station
Craving warmth and beauty
You settle for less than fascination
A few drinks later youre not so choosy
When the closing lights strip off the shadows
On this strange new flesh youve found
Clutching the night to you like a fig leaf
You hurry
To the blackness
And the blankets
To lay down an impression
And your loneliness
In the morning there are lovers in the street
They look so high
You brush against a stranger
And you both apologize
Old friends seem indifferent
You must have brought that on
Old bonds have broken down
Love is gone
Ooh, love is gone
Written on your spirit this sad song
Love is gone
Everything comes and goes
Pleasure moves on too early
And trouble leaves too slow
Just when youre thinking
Youve finally got it made
Bad news comes knocking
At your garden gate
Knocking for you
Constant stranger
Youre a brute-youre an angel
You can crawl-you can fly too
Its down to you
It all comes down to you
xo
courage
I think people are more likely to think or respond in a negative way to something they encounter in an online situation, regardless of how transparent that situation is. A decade ago hiding behind some clever screename in a chat room doling out boorish commentary to people you had never met or probably never would in real life might have seemed aynonymous and safe. Ten years later the online presence we create for ourselves might not be nearly as aynonymous but that does little to nothing to curtail the prevailing mean-spiritedness, in fact I’d say it probably heightens the experience for many.
I would refer those interested in two well-done articles that address how socializing, self-identity and even political action have changed for those born and raised in a media world where the web is the dominant force. First is Roger Cohen’s editorial on the front page of the NY Times site : http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/26/opinion/26cohen.html?em&ex=1212033600&en=64f3a76fa9f17880&ei=5087%0A
And then there’s Chuck Klosterman’s recent column for Esquire : http://www.esquire.com/features/chuck-klostermans-america/hannah-montana-0508
dear emily –
it think you were too nice to the people out there in your nytimes q&a today.
the people who are dissing you are obviously hypocrites. if they really thought what you were saying trivialized the new york times, they should have shut up and not responded. the fact that they did respond validates your whole m.o. they are the ones making you important. to paraphrase liz taylor, they are spelling your name right. that’s all that matters.
kudos to you!
cheers,
andruid kerne, ph.d. [http://ecologylab.net]
p.s. you might like my siggraph articles that deal with self-reference in interface ecosystems [see http://www.ecologylab.net/research/ecosystemsApproach.html
HI, Emily,
I did enjoy it your NYT piece. I want to publish more but am publicity shy. Your article confirmed my ambivalence.
Right now I’m in that easy place you started from, with a blog read by a few friends. I have never had a negative comment but would not hesitate to delete it or to delete any of my previous posts when I decide to.
Type in pru-testament@blogspot.com and I think you’ll get there.
Best,
Pat Andrews
Davidson, NC
I’ve never been to NY, but I imagine it is populated with millions of people like you. I’m sure I’m wrong about that, but I guess we’ll never know.
you can work a joni mitchell misquote-
it’s
“like a cop like a church like a mother.”
cheers
R
actually I think it’s “like the church” my pronouns slipped.-
I met a friend of spirit
He drank and womanized
And I sat before his sanity
I was holding back from crying
He saw my complications
And he mirrored me back simplified
And we laughed how our perfection
Would always be denied
“Heart and humor and humility”
He said “Will lighten up your heavy load”
I left him for the refuge of the roads
Would you be interested in flying to New Orleans this July/August to lead a discussion following ‘An Enemy of the People’?
Not the Kathleen Hanna lyrics called for by commenter Dan, but Bikini Kill bandmateTobi Vail did write this:
“In a music scene and era turned professional it is important to demonstrate allegiance and respect for the realm of the unprofessional musical endeavors. This means we are trying to rebel against the idea that everything must last, must be a record, must have a promo sheet. Sometimes things are just what they are and then later they are something else.
The professionals of the world will try and argue for bands that should break up to stay together and go on tour but sometimes the spontaneous approach is much more than this could ever be: START YOUR OWN BAND AND DO WHAT YOU WANNA DO”
What, this is about blogging, not making music? Well, I think y’all are smart enough to draw the analogy here. Furthermore, I already get that Emily is in fact a professional. I still think the message applies. You do it your way, Emily.
I heart your navel!
I’m one of many who had never heard of you before your piece appeared in the NY Times. I hope to read more of your work.
I just wanted you to know that, from this quiet reader’s perspective, writing as honestly as possible about your own life is not narcissism. When it’s done well (and I think you do it well), it makes the world seem less lonely, less scary, more human scale. I appreciate the sacrifice.
Don’t give too much weight to the critics. Keep up the good work.
I just wanted to say that you answered the attack-dog NYT questions with aplomb. It seems that when anyone writes anything for that paper, the haters are there to destroy you before they’ve finished the second paragraph. If there are jealous people blogging, guess what type of people generally make their opinions known in the comments section? I thought that your article, while perhaps not about China or global warming, did have important implications for young people, and, if nothing else, was a well-written story about a particular person’s life. We follow many inconsequential topics religiously (sports, fashion, Britney), so why not read about your life, too?
Aren’t we missing the larger point here, people? This isn’t about Emily’s narcissism in whatever form it may or may not take nearly so much as it’s about the trend by which, ever since the Venetian’s perfected the mirror, it has become increasingly cool (and oh, so lucrative) to be increasing self-absorbed. Memoirs outsell novels. We’ve got iPod, iMac, i-this, i-that, i-everything. Therapy is, for many people, less about therapy than having a lifelong hobby. And now the internet gives absolutely everyone their 15 minutes of fame. It seems like it would be more worthwhile to look at Emily as a product of an advertising-driven capitalist culture that celebrates the individual in order to exploit her/him, than to simply vilify her for, in an albeit narrow way, attempting to describe one aspect of the trend. Emily, I was impressed by the depth and honesty with which you approached your story - and felt that what you shared was appropriate to the point you were making - but all this confession doesn’t get us anywhere without a larger purpose. Who and what are you trying to help with all this? And if the answer is nobody, then why the hell not??? If the only thing in the world you’re serving is you, then what difference does it make how well you do it?
Oh Emily, I really, really want to root for you but…well…I feel very conflicted.
On the one hand I think you’re a terrific writer. I started reading this blog before your Gawker days and have really enjoyed your writing here and elsewhere. And, being a shameless internet voyeur I also followed the Josh saga via Heartbreak Soup. It was a great story but I did feel slightly guilty being entertained by your personal drama.
On the other hand, while I’m sorry you’ve become media road kill I think your Times piece would have been a lot more interesting and possibly also would have generated less vitriol if you had explored the larger implications of your personal experience. Instead you came across as a self-obsessed whiner. Ultimately, I think the Times got what they wanted (i.e. traffic, buzz) but you got screwed.
So since the comments are closed over there here’s a question for you: How much of what you wrote in the magazine piece was directed by your editor? Would you have been able to take that piece outside of the first person narrative (it really did feel like an overly long blog post)? Could you have researched it a little bit and maybe talked about the psychology of blogging, stats, that kind of thing? Hindsight and all that but I really am curious because for me, that’s what would have made it a more compelling piece.
Blah, blah, blah Joyce Maynard etc. I get where it was supposed to go but it just didn’t have the journalistic integrity one expects from The New York Times.
You’re a good writer but you’re not a journalist. I think that’s part of the reason people are so riled up and I think the Times took advantage of you by offering you the opportunity to write that piece. I hope you’ll write a novel one day because I believe you have what it takes to produce something really amazing.
I’m 38 and I live 98% offline, so I and a lot of my friends had no awareness of you until we read the article in the NYT Magazine. We talked about you a lot. We think you’re fascinating (from a sociological perspective) and personally I admire your willingness to sacrifice so much, although I still don’t understand what the point of it all is. Amusement for your readership? That’s nice of you but you’re paying an incredibly high price for other people’s amusement. I sincerely hope you stay sane.
From a broader perspective, if the success of blogging requires the blogger to sacrifice, to a significant degree, their relationships, their security and even their emotional health, maybe there’s something wrong with the system.
All the best Emily
Eric
Los Angeles
Hey, Emily. I’m one of the anonymous who has been reading your stuff for a long time (gawker; this blog, Heartbreak, etc.) and I posted a message long ago on a post of yours here after Gawker wrote that inane piece on your love life (I think I called you an internet bully–but also said some nice things!) Anyway, my point is I follow your writing b/c I, well, I really like your writing (usually when it’s not Gawker-related). And also, now that I think about it, you’re the only young writer out there who I am following.
Anyhow, I watched this whole thing unfold in horror, mainly b/c, as lots of other people on here have written, while I don’t know, I like you and I love reading your stuff (and it makes me sad that your blog isn’t oversharey anymore, though I get that that would just be masochistic at this point w/ the readership out there). It makes me cringe that you’re being compared to Julia Allison b/c, okay, while she’s not the devil, you are not her and you guys aren’t doing the same thing at all.
So, I don’t know–Gawker sucks and is totally inconsequential once you get out of this clusterfuck of wannabe’s and assholes who go for cheap shots over substance and then jack themselves off b/c they made fun of an easy target and used words like “totes” and “oh noes” in the process and feign fucking shock over anything and anyone that doesn’t fit their very narrow defintion of what is cool. Seriously, it blows. You did reach fame pretty quickly for your writing, and this is great. But you’re a reader too, and you know as well as anyone that the real kind of fame and glory and gratification (and respect) that matters for a writer isn’t from crap blogs or crap blogs posts or crap books based on crap blogs about inane fucking lists or collections of letters from someone’s fucking grandmother.That stuff does not and will not stand the test of time. It’s just more worthless coffee table product put out there for the nonthinking masses to buy.
So get the fuck out of this retarded blogosphere and off the no-point Internet b/c you’re about a million degrees ahead of it and you’re slated to be a fantastic novelist and essayist one day–but you have to pull yourself out of this cesspool, because if anything, it fucks with the kind of writer you can actually be (which isn’t one who writes about watching 36 hours of SATC–seriously, WTF), it fucks with your reputation, and, unless you’re made of steel, it’s got to be fucking with your self-esteem as well.
Emily
Dont listen to these Charlatans - come to London and let Papa show you a good time natch, the worlds a great big onion.
Hi Emily,
I work on a TV programme called Sky.com News in the UK - it’s the TV show with the web’s agenda, looking at what’s getting hits and the stories getting bloggers talking (Our blog is at: skynews.typepad.com/skydotcomnews/)
Are you interested in appearing on tomorrow’s (Wednesday’s) show to talk about your experiences of blogging?
Please email me at tim.gatt@bskyb.com if you want to have a chat about it.
Thanks,
Tim
Seriously, you bitch and whine about all the negativity, yet you sacrificially nail yourself to a cross DAY after DAY.
You’re like Britney .. oooh the paps won’t leave me alone, then she drives by the Ivy.
WTF do you expect? Shut up with the blogging, or shut up with the bitching - choose ye!
It’s like you’re sitting there with a bowl in hand at the foot of internets.. “I Can Haz More Pleez?”
1) Do you want to write more fiction?
2) Is blogging just a means to an end or is there something particularly useful about cobbling together shit online versus, say, in a Word file or in a diary?
3) Are the comments good for anything, other than these random exchanges, for people who fancy themselves writers?
Just for the ‘record’, to the average listener, Ms Brand sounded a touch unprofessional and smug during the NPR interview.
Thanks. Hope you keep posting here, jezebel, etc.
Do you feel yourself splitting into subject-matter-Emily and real-Emily now that you’ve momentarily become your own subject matter? (quite honestly I think, by the way…despite the snark I think there’s a certain humility to investigating yourself as a public figure just as you’d have done with others while at Gawker)
But that self-examination seems like it would almost necessarily split you into a writer Emily and a written Emily. It seems like every now and then it might be hard to keep track.
And man, NYT readers are jerks.
All of this talk about holiness now
must be the start of the latest style…
genius joni mitchell quote. court and park is untouchable.
i’d read gawker casually for a while, so i was casually aware of who you were. and i had seen the jimmy kimmel interview and thought it was an unfair representation of the wit inherent to your writing style. (by the way, how could the guy who hosted the MAN SHOW with a beer in his hand at all times be even remotely offended by the assumption that he was publicly intoxicated?)
anyway, i stumbled on the nyt mag piece accidentally, and i honestly couldn’t stop reading it. you have a simple, clear voice and, despite the misappropriated accusations of narcissism run amok, your point was well delivered and easily to relate to for anyone familiar with the relative bouts of fame blogging can yield. i think you’re right in that a lot of bloggers are jealous on some level or maybe just offended by the fact that someone who happened to come from a relentlessly caustic media blog was suddenly unhappy with being publicly scrutinized in a similar way. but you explain your stance with a healthy dose of humility and self-deprecation.
i don’t understand the vitriol at all. do people think it’s hypocritical of you to try to explain yourself? it’s a lose/lose situation. if people really don’t care about what you have to say, then why are they so angry? not caring means indifferent, and most of the nyt/gawker commenters have shown anything but indifference. who could read almost 8,000 words and then say he doesn’t care with a straight face?
i find your story intriguing, and i think you handled it well.
One of the main issues is that ‘old media’ types, feel that bloggers have to write ‘about things’ and have to be serious, whereas lots of the appeal of blogging lies in detailing the minutiae of people’s lives…It’s more of an interesting question, ultimately, as to why an audience is interested in the rather prosaic details of your life, rather than your willingness to divulge the slightest detail about yourself (as many people do that, really). I mean, just the other day in a laundromat, a complete stranger told me they were battling cancer.
Much of the animus directed your way, in my estimation lies in professional ‘I could’ve done that’ jealously of fellow writers, but the point is, at the end of the day: YOU did that, having had the foresight to pitch the editors on that story and running with it…
Journalism, or whatever it is you call it (extended diary entries, new journalism, what have you) is more than simply tracking down sources and slotting them into whatever best suits the needs of your thesis–it’s generating and following through with a bang-up idea…
I’m a young author with Penguin, and currently blogging like crazy in order to market the hell out of my book—it’s amazing how little people in traditional publishing know about blogging.
I’ve done talk radio to discuss blogging, so I could promote my blog, and hopefully, garner a bigger future audience…
Anyway, that’s about it…
Luke Says:
May 27th, 2008 at 8:11 pm
“Do you feel yourself splitting into subject-matter-Emily and real-Emily now that you’ve momentarily become your own subject matter?”
Yeah, and in the process she’s killing independent George.
LOL at the comments that are nothing but lyrics to a song. Do these folks really have no thoughts of their own? Or have they decided that there’s nothing they can say that Avril Lavigne couldn’t say better (which, I guess amounts to the same thing)?
Anyway, consider yourself well-clear of Gawker. I was already old two years ago. The audience now is 90% aging queens and teenage girls.
even i’m getting a headache watching the nyt/gawker commenter pile-on. i don’t know how you’re coping with it.
hang in there. and keep writing.
> attention whore or a narcissist, because that’s what you call people who are getting the kind of attention you feel you deserve but are, unfairly, not getting.
Bingo. Haters are jealous.
Well sure you can work in a Joni Mitchell quote, if somebody feeds you a good Joni Mitchell question.
Thanks for the answer though. And in all honesty, I have to admit that I haven’t grown tired of Joni’s self-referentiality either.
I think your article in the Times was well written and fantastic. It was in now way “a long blog post”. You are extremely talented and I enjoyed your article very much.
You’ve gained a fan from Las Vegas.
Best of luck and GOOD JOB!
Gayla
PS: I’m also a blogger (5 years now) but compared to your writing and talent, my blog is just silly :). But I do love it.
Emily!
Thank you very much for writing your essay. I truly enjoyed reading it - and that’s coming from the slowest reader in America. I don’t think you’re an oversharer at all, I think you’re amazing. In fact, I admire that you chose to keep your past blogs open for public view - I would have done the same thing.
You should know, I’ve never felt so compelled to comment on an essay before. You are an incredible writer! I actually feel really self-conscious about writing this comment to you. I suck compared to you.
Anyway, I’m a senior-ish at TCU and as an ex-blogger, I got a lot out of your essay. Writing to an open audience about your personal life really is freeing - it’s kind of like wearing a bikini for the first time or finally mustering up the nerve to talk back to your mother. It’s this crazy, intoxicating feeling of daring, freedom, and I-can-do-anythingness. The more I wrote, the more personal I felt I needed to be. I needed to create a point of reference for my readers, they had a right to know me! I didn’t care who saw me with mud on my face or who knew about my underage sexcapades!! I had a following, I felt important and cared for (albeit a very online sense).
Refusing to take my (increasing) sense of self-importance for granted, I took it upon myself to reflect inward on my infinite flaws and relate them to goings-on in the outside world. No one likes a hypocritical writer with delusions of grandeur (all the while having delusions of grandeur). Eventually, I came to realize that I was giving strangers and untrustworthy people the tools to undo me and betraying the trust of those I trusted. Though I chronicled the darkest times of my life online, I knew there was a definite possibility for my life to be publicly humiliated. I decided to shut down my blog.
Though I didn’t do away with the self-reflective habits I formed through my writing, I did end up discarding about 2 years of history. I can’t decide whether I regret it or not, but I definitely admire your decision to keep your blogs up. Navel-gazing, self-reflection, whatever you want to call it, I think are beneficial to achieving personal growth and becoming more relatable to others. Those who think otherwise are, I believe, afraid to face themselves.
On the other hand I learned, as I cringed at every old blog, that just because the internet is largely uncensored doesn’t mean that I had to be. I was catty, snide, crude, mean for all the world to see. That’s what I was like when I was 19, but I didn’t want to write a series of blogs justifying myself out of guilt and shame.
Further, our generation and younger have grown up with the internet - our knowledge of this technology is second to none. You can post a blog and get a response almost instantaneously. A lot of people don’t seem to realize how easy it is to fall into that trap.
Anyway, this is rivaling the length of your essay, which is totally indecent. Thanks again.
Hey
Just discovered you via your article in the Independent today. Have to say it scared the bejeesus out of me a little as I have just started my own blog, but I will power on regardless.
Good blog btw.
For what it’s worth, I thought that, although it was laced with personal details, the NYT piece contained very few of your thoughts and feelings about your experience. Your blogging cost you a true love of your life, and yet the essay reveals almost nothing of how you feel about that loss. You became a center of attention in the New York media world (a dream!) at the expense of waking up each morning in your lover’s arms. Readers are naturally going to want to know your feelings about that exchange — what it really and honestly meant to you.
Including those feelings in your essay wouldn’t be “oversharing” — it would transform your narrative into a work of art. The best part is, you don’t have to compromise anyone’s privacy. Don’t use Henry’s real name, or any personal details that will reveal his identity. You won’t be compromising your own privacy because the feelings you will be sharing are, fundamentally, universal. We’ve all loved, traded that love for something else, and then regretted the loss, even if we might not take back the exchange.
I would think of the storm of negative comments this way: We all take the art we are given personally and, although it’s irrational, feel affronted when it doesn’t live up to our standards (even if we can’t articulate what those standards are or how they were violated). Think of how worked up we get when we see a dreadful movie or read an insipid “Modern Love” column. I think we’ve all experienced that emotional over-reaction to some novel or play or painting that disappointed us.
So, I don’t think the mob is jealous of your success — there can’t be that many wannabe media critics in Brooklyn, although maybe I am wrong, who knows? (I guess I will say that I hope, for Brooklyn’s sake, there are not that many wannabe media critics in Brooklyn) — they were just expecting a top-flight personal essay and, when it didn’t arrive, they became the angry cartoon men in short pants in a Monty Python episode. Think of it as misdirected criticism of your writing. They are only trying to tell you that your essay didn’t move them.
http://www.comicspage.com/comicspage/main.jsp?catid=1876&custid=69&file=20080528csbre-a-p.jpg&code=csbre&dir=/brewster
I was 16 when I realized that I wrote well. That insight was accompanied by a simultaneous one, delivered in the form of a question.
“What do you have to say?”
I have spent the time since then searching for the answer. While I have no idea whether she ever asked herself the same question, Ms. Gould seems to be writing her way to some sort of truth. Her choice to do it in public is one to which she is entitled. No one has to read her writing if they choose not to, just as those who prefer the visual equivalent - reality TV - have the right to tune out.
That said, I received equal doses of surprise and relief when I checked out gawker and found:
1. a reference written by Ms. Gould to a story in which I’d been included
2. that wasn’t heinously mean
Hi Emily,
I just wanna put my 2¢ in, although I’m quite sure you don’t need any reassurance from me, since it’s clear from your Times piece that you, “get it.”
But it’s worth saying again.
Haters…those vile, anonymous, vicious spawn of the internet–the ones who rush to post negative comments before the virtual ink is dry–they just don’t get it. You know what I mean.
Likewise that cabal of mostly self-anointed pop-culture critics who bemoan the quality to which our culture has somehow only recently devolved: they just don’t get it either. In fact, it’s amusing to see from their chorus of grief and shock over the latest crimes of Paris, Lindsay, Britney, et al (a perfect example occurred just today in the Times: http://tinyurl.com/4m9w6f ) they don’t realize (or don’t care to acknowledge) they are the very soul of the problem they so virtuously denounce.
Meanwhile, Paris…she gets it! It is to laugh!
But hey…you looked hot on the cover of the mag (are you really that cute?) and your piece was beautifully-written and well-constructed. I enjoyed it like I have enjoyed very few “superficial” pieces.
You know what I mean.
Please keep writing. I’m a fan.
Hal
Hi Emily.
So this is the point in the Emily movie where Emily decides to pursue Academia by becoming a bespectacled Professor and we are thwarted through the time/space portal to watch “Emily, Aged” (Jamie Lee Curtis? I don’t know, I don’t do casting) change lives with her revolutionary thoughts. We see her jumping on desks, flippantly taking irreverent jabs at the government, sometimes not wearing underwear, demanding free-association introspective writing diaries from her freshmen every other week…then, all the students write her a symphony while she’s coaching high school basketball and her deaf son yells “Carpe Diem”!
For what it’s worth, you have spawned all of THIS. Cool. You are like Moses! All of the Hebrew children are talking about the spliced red sea, not just the ones who live for American Idol but the pretentious “bookish” ones! Plus, we’re all still hanging out at red sea rock bottom: our laptops are great hiding places, our ‘publish’ buttons conveniently remove the “think before you…” censor. So. Lest we all not judge. Or! Judge Emily = Judge Yourself. (I think I’ll make t-shirts.)
Joking aside: You write fantastically. I thought the article was honest. It inspired me to do much thinking about my own writing -how I use the medium of “blog” to express myself in this big, big world- along with much writing about my own writing, writing about your writing, and some other writing that has nothing to do with much of anything, but you should still be credited for inspiring it. Thanks.
We are listening and talking – thanks for leading. A+ group discussion.
Weird. If you take the first letter of all the negative comments on the story and place them on a treble clef, you get sheet music of the Gin Blossoms’ “Hey Jealousy.”
I will never, NEVER understand the need to bash a stranger because of their writing.
Why are some people so fucking pissed?
…They need hobbies. Or to get laid. Or a giant chill pill, circa 1994.
Put the newspaper DOWN, if you don’t like it.
Jesus.
Emily, I read your NY Times piece and was deeply moved. What hit me is what is grossly missing from our society; honesty, sincerity and realness, all of the qualities that make people and life beautiful. I have been afraid to blog or even keep a journal for fear of allowing people into my head and judging me, but after reading your piece I see the simple, priceless, beauty in allowing ourselves to be real without fear. You are a Picasso - rare, complex, abstract, but most of all beautiful. Thank you for boldly sharing your genuine self and pioneering the way for those of us not yet as skilled in shedding the artificial, hard plastic, impress-your-neighbor mentality.
oh jesus emily. your heart seems to be in the right place .. but no one is jealous of you. people are annoyed by you .. people feel sorry for you, but come on .. this response is not “haters” wishing they could be nationally mocked. im trying to see it from your side … but you make it so damn hard.
I just read your piece after reading an article in the LA Times this morning. I loved it. Don’t let the haters get you down. Keep it up, girl!!!
Emily, I loved what you wrote; you are writing about things that are totally relevant and resonate with hundreds of thousands of people. A few hundred disagreeing commentators do not represent them!
I used to write for an online magazine and was blogged about and called very rude names for expressing my opinion - albeit by a tiny fraction of how many people have written against your writing. I actually gave up writing for a while because they shattered my confidence in what I was writing. Seeing how wonderfully you’d written and still how negatively so many people responded has actually inspired me to start writing again.
The negative response you got just shows that such comments are vulgar people’s way of rudely disagreeing with others. These are the type of people who probably just spat at other children in the playground when they were little. Or those who won’t let you cut into your lane even though you are stuck behind a broken down car. Or the ones who snort very disdainfully if you drop something on the floor or if your child starts crying in the restaurant. They look down upon real and common experiences that they themselves may be the only ones missing out on!!
Anyway, long story short - you are doing a fantastic job. The only people who can’t stand it are those who would like to be you!!
Emily,
Anyone that continues to needlessly tear you down at this point in the game is merely conveying their own self-hatred. The magazine piece is your redemption; it’s well-written and unflinchingly introspective. What you said takes guts.
JJC
Portland, OR
Was it the famous publisher who said, “There was never a monument erected to a critic”. For others to be bashing a woman who is exposing her vulnerability while at the same time doing courageous original work is just counterintuitive to me. Especially people who mention appearance etc. These people objectify things like appearance and need a checkup from the neck up.
Emily,
I really enjoyed reading your article in the NYT, and good for you for standing up for yourself. The piece was thoughtful and well crafted. It’s annoying that people are so quick to dismiss any introspective writing as self-indulgent. I am a lifelong diarist myself, but I’ve never been able to bring myself to let anyone read my journals–even my fiance, who has begged me. Your piece really made me think, because your “issue” is just th opposite.
I’ve always struggled with finding the right balance of what to express. I think that REM articulates this idea well in their song Losing My Religion: “Oh no, I’ve said too much; I haven’t said enough.” Have you said too much? I really don’t know. But I admire you for saying something.
Being new to this entire world (reading blogs and comments), the thing that struck me hardest and most quickly is how the medium illustrates the critical human need for validation. At least in Emily’s case the blogger trades something valuable for her validation (personal information about herself). A lot of the comments about her and her writing seem infused with an aggressive, self-centered need for the same validation but offer nothing in return.
It just feels like there’s something really unhealthy about this imbalance that will lead to nothing good.
Eric
Los Angeles
I just read your article in New York magazine. WOW. I was so touched. All that you have been through is just AMAZINg. My heart goes out for you.
Darling: you write well and you have everybody’s attention. Take advantage. Don’t ruin it by being boring (and, I’m really, really sorry, but sex and the city is boring and even a little passé). Have fun again!!!! THat’s your forte. Suerte.
I wish your piece had been published under different circumstances, so it could be judged on its own merits.. IMO it had real insight and real shortcomings, and both the merits and the flaws are fertile ground for cool conversation on blogging, public identity etc.. but presented in this baggage-laden context it may obscure the groundwork for that conversation, more than it illuminates..
Enough about Emily. Let’s talk about me…
(a test, of sorts)
you are so pathetic.
I really liked the article. While on a certain level it IS all about you, it’s really more about what sharing your life online can lead to, and this weird new “branding” aspect of being a blogger/journalist, which I thought was relevant.
I always liked the Joan Didion quote “Writers are always selling somebody out,” which is easy to misuse if you want. You can sell out as many strangers as you want, but if you start selling out yourself or your friends, you’ll inevitably run into problems.
Thanks to blogging, nothing is personal anymore. But I think we were headed down that road anyway due to our decades-old obsession with clinical psychology and introspective yearning for self-actualization.
The baby boomers are/were the most obsessively narcissistic generation to ever ever walk (or drive around) the planet. They have obviously passed along their ME, ME, ME mindset to Gen X-ers.
As someone who has spent half his life talking to clinical psychologists and psychiatrists at least once a month, I can definitely relate to what you say in the article about oversharing. I have a problem keeping anything a secret. I am somewhat socially limited and awkward thanks to 15+ years of emotional enabling.
This whole “controversy” is ridiculous. It was one of the best written pieces the Times Magazine has run in recent memory, on a subject that almost everyone is interested in (apparently, judging from the virulent responses). I hadn’t followed the whole Gawker back story, but it’s interesting, as someone who’s spent many years in the print newspaper and magazine business, how the reaction on the blogosphere mirrors the atmosphere in newsrooms: defensive, insular and laden with Schadenfreude. That’s one of the main reasons newspaper readership have fallen so dramatically, the net notwithstanding. It’s a further irony to me that when an established publication tries to do something about it - by running a narrative piece that’s eloquent, honest and involving - people can’t wait to pile on. I realize the culture of the internet is one that’s supposed to be snarky, but this has been unreal. The point of print or online publications should be to run good writing. The pictures were fine, too. The self-appointed “critics” should knock it off - unless they can write something better.
J Says:
May 28th, 2008 at 11:28 am
“I will never, NEVER understand the need to bash a stranger because of their writing.”
Oh, the irony. LOLerz.
exactly!
people need to simma down.
Dear Emily,
WOW! Sorry to see you getting trashed …I for one enjoyed the article. I don’t quite get how anyone could say it was navel gazing, I saw it more as a cautionary tale of what can happen. I made a very conscious decision when I started my blog, that there were things I simply would never post about … and I’m glad I made that decision.
For what it’s worth, I think that a lot of the venom spewed your way comes from a place of jealousy. It’s also easier for people to say they would have done differently, when they’ve never been in the situation.
I think you should be proud — it took guts, and that’s never a waste.
Good article in The Independant by the way !
Hi Emily,
I thought your article was well-written and it’s sparked loads of discussions over here…
Here’s what I had to say about it…
http://stripedsocksandskinnyjeans.blogspot.com/2008/05/emily-post.html
Take care…
I think youre a great writer, just finished your NYT Magazine article and I think its very well written. Just saying’.
well. i confess it’s very tempting to take voyeuristic and catty pleasure in reading you / about you and in the process looking down on you; you’re a readable writer who comes across as self-absorbed and cold-hearted, which means it’s fun to read your stuff and feels justified (and also fun!) to condemn you. i’m trying to avoid that kind of judgment, though, so i’ve stopped for a minute to try to find a way to relate to you. and found that it’s really pretty easy. a problem i’ve been thinking about a lot lately is that of certain kinds of privilege, and what they do to people. i don’t mean material privilege, though that does allow the idleness necessary for self-obsession. what i mean has to do with personal qualities rather than possessions. my theory is this: when somebody gets a lot of attention and affirmation, esp early on, for attributes like attractiveness, intelligence, athletic ability, etc–as opposed to outward-focused qualities like generosity or empathy–they (inevitably?) get the impression that these qualities are IMPORTANT, and thus the maintenance of them, as well as continued affirmation for them, is important too. my main research subject for this theory is myself, since i, like you, i take it, have had a lot of male attention over the years and also a lot of you’re-so-smart-oh-my-god-type attention, and though i try to resist it, i do care a lot more about my appearance and (recognition of) my intellect than i wish i did. because i’ve always gotten so much attention for these things, it’s as if any lack of attention at any point would mean i was getting WORSE in some way, whereas if i’d never gotten attention for them in the first place i’m not sure i would have thought so much about them. anyway, the point is, i get that it’s tough to focus on other things (or even people!) when you’ve been given the impression that the way to the good things in life is through impressive personal traits. i, at least, find, though, that when i’m able to focus outward a little bit–able to remember that despite what my perspective may suggest, i am not after all the most important person in the universe–not only does that approach feel much truer and more worthwhile, but the good things in life seem to come much easier too.
not that i’m able to do this all of the time, or even most of the time, and though i know how condescending and obvious this sounds i honestly don’t mean it that way. it just seemed worth saying, and i’m sorry that it seems like i’m suggesting that you’ve never thought of any of this on your own (you no doubt have). i also hope it doesn’t sound like i’m trying to claim moral superiority somehow (well, i realize it does sound that way, but i’m actually not, honest!); after all, when it comes to morality, i basically think we’re all fucked (not that it’s not worth trying!), so no high ground here.
in any case, all i’m really trying to say is this: good luck.
I think one of the most compelling things about this tedious yet intriguing article is how devastatingly it shows that there are different talents required for artistic success in different media.
Sprinters aren’t usually very good at the marathon. Being a world-class masturbator doesn’t mean you’re a gifted orgiast. And being a great blogger does not automatically mean you are a stellar print writer - this magazine article being Exhibit A.
There’s also a flipside to that coin, though - seeming interesting and funny day after day in thousands of comments and blog posts requires a rare kind of dedication and talent which Emily clearly possesses.
While the full 10-page article made my eyes glaze over a few times, most of the people who left comments on the New York Times site were far less successful than Emily at winning my interest or sympathy. A good 80% of them come across as crabbed clods and hypocrites who somehow share the insane belief that writers must all be out this very minute saving Iraqi babies from burning buildings. They might be successful doctors, mothers, traffic cops, whatever - but the majority of those NYT commenters just don’t get it.
While it wasn’t on full display in the article, after surfing around I see that Emily obviously possesses an artistic skill set that, say, the average NYT commenter wholly lacks. I don’t know if it’s a generation gap, a new attitude to online expression, an issue of openness to new media, or what, but if I had to choose between supporting this army of sclerotic Jimmy Kimmels or self-obsessed but daring Emily, there’s really no choice at all. The world is online, and whether we like it or not, clever people like Emily are doing interesting things while trying to make that world their own.
Emily - keep blogging, you’re not bad at it. But the next time you sit down to write something intended to be printed on paper, it shouldn’t be just random notes on what happened to you and your boyfriend last year. If you want to expose your feelings, do it in a way that isn’t either merely cute or a call for help. And in the future, if you find you’d rather scurry back and write about someone than spend time with them, realize that this may mean you’ll eventually be a good writer, but it also means that you aren’t really their friend or companion. Pick and choose. You’ll be fine. I hope to read more from you again soon.
P.S. “Project Run-gay” would have been the better joke, whether or not your boyfriend said it. That’s the sort of thoughtful filtering you need to make more often in the future if you want to be a writer and not a diarist. I’m serious.
i swear!
this is so great
to hear so many minds shimmering…
a great Universe
Emily,
Just met you in the NYT. A very well written piece. Your journey seems to me to have been less about narcissism than boundaries. Like most young adults you were trying to establish your sense of self within the context of your desire to be a writer. Since you established no boundaries, you presumed you did not need to recognize the boundaries of others. That’s like declaring your little 20 acres an open range and expecting all the fenced in ranches nearby to welcome your cows.
You’ve grown, though, and hopefully learned that boundaries are what keep us unique. They enable us to come together with a lover, child, friend, parent, etc. but remain ourselves. Once you have established your boundaries, you can have wonderful relationships with all these people and not feel that your self is being consumed.
As for your writing, the NYT piece shows that you no longer need to throw everything out there in hopes that some of it sticks. You can be your own editor. Remember, the best film directors are noted not only for what gets on the screen but for what they had the good sense to leave on the cutting room floor.
Oh, and call your mother. She will learn to respect your boundaries, but you must maintain them - it is your job.
Look forward to future pieces.
A different Emilie’s mom
I read the NYT article and just listened to Madeline Brand. I thought she was quite mean spirted in her interview. I remember being in my twenties (a time of life I am happy never to repeat) and revealing far too much about myself to anyone who wouldl listen. Happily for me the internet was in its nasceny and I did not have the chance to blog this for anyone to read and evaluate. I appreciate you exploring this difficult turf. As you are being given opportunities to appear on the radio and television, I would suggest you meet with a media consultant to help you in your on air deliver of ideas. This is a skill that requires careful practice and comes easily to few. With a bit of training, the next time you find yourself across the table from the Jimmy Kimmels or Madeline Brands of the world, you will be able to be as lucent on air as you are in print. All the best to you.
Em
Blogs vs Newspapers/Magazines
I used to only read newspapers/magazines. Yesterday I started reading all sorts of blogs, and I think that blog content, generally, is a much better window into the human condition.
Some of that has to do with the democratic nature of the distribution process, but mostly it’s because you can clearly see the pattern of attraction between author/content and reader expressed as links, comments, recommends, etc. If you zoom in on this detail it might look self-referential and indulgent at first – ‘a’ links to ‘b’ links to ‘c’ and back again - but if you zoom out to see the biggest picture possible, the pattern itself becomes an illuminating story about what attracts us, and therefore, fundamentally, what we want.
So, thanks Emily and the NYT for Sunday’s article.
Eric
Los Angeles
nat Says:
May 28th, 2008 at 4:09 pm
“Darling: you write well and you have everybody’s attention. Take advantage. Don’t ruin it by being boring (and, I’m really, really sorry, but sex and the city is boring and even a little passé). Have fun again!!!! THat’s your forte. Suerte.”
Nat, you sound like Zsa Zsa Gabor giving advice to Truman Capote. Yer right about Sex in the City, tho…snoozerz.
As one of the many hungry nyc writers who ought to be in a jealous fury over the space given to you by the times…
Congratulations. The comments you’ve received - both the positive and negative - matter little indeed when compared to the fundamental accomplishment of getting your piece published, much less as a magazine cover story. Maybe it is a terrible article that didn’t deserve this or that level of attention, but I don’t see that as being your problem. Eliciting any strong reaction from a piece (even disgust and hatred) is highly preferable to ambivalence - under the assumption that the initial writing was honest. Screw ‘em…and best of luck.
Some may have thought that your article in The NYT was not Times worthy; but it was. It was thoughtful and very well written. It held me spell bound as I so wanted to find out how the story ends. I was glad to realize that it doesn’t. The number of comments and internet traffic generated by your posts suggests that you have a voice that forces people to listen whether its writing about ur personal life or discouraging others from what you consider your mistakes. I am hoping that ur life as a writer is only just beginning for it would be a waste to stop now.
News from another planet
Dear Emily,
I thought you might be interested in the reaction to your New York Times article from a middle-aged European male, unfamiliar with the blogosphere and a total stranger to New York gossip.
I was only drawn to read it because of an article in today’s London Observer, and because I’m thinking about Web 2.0 as part of my work; I haven’t followed any of the subsequent controversy.
I thought your article was very well written. Blogging seems to have provided you with a good literary apprenticeship (although I suppose you do read ‘real books’ sometimes!). Concentrating on the intimate side of life is obviously a perfectly legitimate form of literary expression. It read to me like like a sort of ‘Education Sentimentale’ or ‘Illusions Perdues’ for our times. Even if blogging stems from a more or less real time reaction to events and personal experiences, the process of selection and giving form to them necessarily involved in writing (especially writing crafted to communicate clearly with your audience) is not unrelated to the creation of fiction.
I particularly liked your simile, “I still felt unmoored in the way you can only feel after a breakup, as if you’re the last living speaker of some dying language.” It seemed very accurate to me. Any ‘community of practice’ creates its own semiotics, and a long-term intimate relationship does so in a way which touches us deeply: its ending means the death of that ‘language’.
On a personal note, you came across to me as very charming. if I were 20 years younger, twice as rich, and your side of the Atlantic, I would love to invite you out for dinner!
All best wishes.
P.S. I hope I’ve posted this in the right place: as I said, I’m not used to blogs!
Yes, have a look at the two novels I mentioned, if you don’t know them already: they could give you some ideas. It is normal for a good writer of fiction to put a lot of himself into his writing, but that form might leave you less directly exposed. Of course, you might miss the interactive nature of the Web. But read Mikhail Bakhtin on ‘dialogism’ in literature: the idea is not completely new!
I’ve read your article at NYTimes - NICE enough to make me visit your blog.
You are very, very talented, Emily.
Unsolicited advice: I think you need to get out of New York for a bit, breathe fresh air where nobody knows you or cares about you or your story.
Read, look at paintings, eat good food, take walks, be curious, write in a notebook or on your computer with no ambition and no motive, talk and be with friends and family who want nothing of you but you, if only for a little bit this summer.
The one’s who have a true voice, protect that voice, but, most importantly, know when they need to do so, and will do anything to protect it, even if that means walking away and going silent for a bit.
Amidst this cacaphony of comments I take the time to tell you this because, as I said, you have an incredible talent with so much to offer, and I’m afraid for you, that all of this is going to swallow up your potential and capacity to truly reflect and synthesize these strange and confusing times and the people who are coming of age in these times.
Don’t listen to the vultures who tell you you need to “capitalize now.” You’re still so young and this life, both creatively and in the living, is a marathon not a sprint; this is one of the wonderful things about being a writer (as opposed to an athlete) you can keep getting better until the day you die.
So don’t burn out or fade away, take the time and protect yourself. Discover metaphor…metaphor.
Metaphor is the true power of an artist, but it seems the lesson, practice and power of metaphor have been lost on our generation for the sake of attention and fame, the “tell all.”
You’ve done your time with the tell all. I read you and know you have so much more to offer the world then this.
Take back what is yours: your voice.
With no irony I know that your voice is your life. Don’t give it up for anyone or anything.
Best,
L
Dear Emily,
You have made me a member of the blogosphere: this is my third contribution. But the subject interests me. Writing, even writing about yourself, is necessarily artifice, in the sense that it it involves selecting from and giving form to your experience. So there is a distance between Emily the author (the ‘I’ in the world in which writing takes place, the composer of the text) and Emily the narrator (the ‘I’ in the world that is written about, a character in the text).
I used the word ‘distance’ rather than ‘difference’, because there is a dynamic relationship between the two. The ‘I’ you created in writing, when you first started blogging, probably felt like a deeper, clearer expression of yourself, than the ‘I’ in your everyday social world. (Does it still?) And through the Internet it was able to enter a social world of its own, take on life, and become an essential part of your process of self construction. You were telling yourself, in conversation with others, ‘the ongoing story’ of your life.
It is out of others’ voices that we construct our own. As Bakhtin said, before either you or the Internet were born, “I live in a world of others’ words. And my entire life is an orientation in this world, a reaction to others’ words…” The Internet only makes this process more visible (at the same time as creating new ways, new possibilities, for it to occur). So I am very grateful that you decided not to try to ‘revise history’, but leave a record of your story. However, perhaps you should consider it like a work of art, rather than as identical to the person you see in the mirror each morning.
All best wishes.
I just read your article in the New York Times after having read an article in a danish newspaper linking to it. The article in the danish newspaper is about why women are being critized and punished much more than men, when they write about them selves and their private lives.
Anyway, I found the article in the Times very reflective and interesting. In my opinion it’s not at all “just” about you, but about important changes in our society and how theese changes effect our consciousness and our perception of ourselves and the world. Olso it is interesting to me, who just felt my first adrealin rush (and depression) in a small scale just by getting a facebook profile (and scared the hell out of my boyfriend by making af profile in his name, just for fun, which only existed two minutes… He feels that his virginity has been destroyed..!) Anyway, thanks for sharing your experience in a relevant and wellwritten way.
Oh man. I finally managed to make it through the video of Jimmy Kimmel kicking your ass. It’s like an improvised version of The Jackdaw And His Borrowed Feathers. “Think about your life.” Ha!
Dear Emily,
I hope you have time to actually read all these postings. But I was interested that, at the beginning of your article, you describe how, when you first came to New York after graduating from college, blogging created “some kind of community” which made the giant city you now lived in “seem the smaller and more manageable”. The need for community is essential for the social animals which human beings are. In the past, most people lived in geographically situated groups which were small enough to be socially cohesive, in which they could still feel personally implicated. Nowadays, the majority of us are crowded into vast impersonal conurbations. However the technology which created the modern urban world has also given us tools to make new communities, but ones which are no longer geographically based.
Because the word ‘gossip’ tends to have a pejorative meaning, it is interesting to recall that as early as 1923, Malinowski proposed the idea that what he called ‘phatic communion’, the exchange of words to create social contact rather than convey information, constituted the original, primitive form of human language. Dunbar (1996) also believed that the essential functions of language for evolutionary purposes were phatic ones, with ‘gossip’, language of purely social content exchanged for social purposes, being the equivalent of the grooming that higher primates do to one another as an essential part of forming and maintaining their social bonds, which are necessary in order to deal with the challenges in their environment. He concluded that “Language thus seems ideally suited in various ways to being a cheap and ultra-efficient form of grooming…In a nutshell, I am suggesting that language evolved to allow us to gossip”.
Thought it might interest you.
All best wishes.