I'm Back Part II
A Break For Boring Blog Stuff
If you made a comment during the Google Buzz debacle and it hasn’t shown up yet, I probably deleted it. I had five million fucking comments and 90% of them were trolls, so I wasn’t willing to dig through and find the real stuff and then take the time to respond. Sorry!
Back to Navel-Gazing
As each wave of new readers came to this blog, I had to sit and seriously consider what I was doing and why. I started this blog because I was fed up with living a life where I could not speak out loud. I wanted to carve out a space in the world where I could speak out loud, freely. I know – in the same way some people know about God – that the vast majority of human experience is similar if not identical, and that there is almost no feeling I can describe that another person will not have felt as well. And so I feel like it’s almost a necessity, as a human being, to sometimes take the risk of describing your feelings out loud, because it can bring such relief to you and others when you realize you’re not alone. This is part of why I named the blog Fugitivus, and identify so strongly with the idea of running away. Silence is a master; it doesn’t serve anybody. Speaking out is a way to run away, to escape. The concepts of running away and escaping get a generally bad rap, implying cowardice, but I view these things as an extension of the axiom, “You can’t dismantle the master’s house with the master’s tools.” Running away from the master’s tools is finding a new way to dismantle the house; it can’t be built or maintained without your labor and the labor of others like you. So yeah, you heard it here: fucking off is a completely viable revolutionary tactic, though like all tactics, isn’t enough in isolation to tumble the master’s house.
When the blog got more popular, my quiet corner of the internet got louder and became more work. I didn’t want that, but as it came gradually, I felt like I could handle it. And I felt like I was accomplishing a higher purpose. With each person that sent an email or a comment describing how they discovered they weren’t alone, I felt like I was doing some good. Watching my work go viral, get spread to places I never would have suspected, gave me a lot of satisfaction. Not having my name on any of it didn’t bother me. I actually liked that quite a bit. I wanted my work to be free, free, free; the message was more important to me than the notoriety, and I felt like whatever people were getting out of it was way bigger than me. I have gotten lots of comments from people about how I’ve changed their lives. I don’t tell them this, because everybody’s feelings are valid and I’m not going to nitpick their revelations, but I don’t think I have anything to do with it. If the strength to change wasn’t in them, I wouldn’t have had any kind of affect. So I liked the idea of making my work even less about me. Not only did I not change you, but as far as you’re concerned, I don’t even exist in the real world. I’m just words on paper, a ghost with a typewriter. You’re the one who made a door open somewhere.
Then I made what was perhaps a bad decision. I got this new job, and started writing about parental notification laws. I considered it for a long time before I decided to write about my work. I knew that writing about my job would seal this blog as anonymous forever. I could never come out with my real name, because it could be attached to my blog, and could have unknown ramifications for the parental notification work we do. There’s every chance nobody would care – if you read the laws of my state, it’s pretty clear who Department X is, so it’s only a secret insofar as nobody wants to discuss it – but there’s every chance that it would be just the chink in our armor that anti-choice groups would need to apply pressure. I don’t want to jeopardize that. Though if I didn’t want to jeopardize that, I probably shouldn’t have written about it at all. This was a big conflict for me. I obviously place a lot of faith in making secret things unsecret; I firmly believe shameful things are secret primarily because secrecy creates shame; I don’t think they’re shameful to start off with, until they get shushed. I know the abortion debate suffers from the lack of voices on the pro-choice side, unwilling to identify themselves with the work and the decisions. Department X isn’t ashamed of doing their legal jobs, but they know that the rest of the world is, or is too afraid to speak up. So, parental notification laws get passed, they sound vaguely like a good idea, and nobody gets to hear the reality of their votes because workers and patients are afraid to identify themselves with legal procedures. I knew writing about Department X might be a really big mistake, but I felt letting the opportunity to put some reality out there into the reality-deficient void was a bigger mistake. I decided to accept the fact that this meant that I could never again toy with the idea of “coming out” as a blogger.
Then! Google Buzz.
Fucking christ.
Here is the arrogant thing that I am just going to have to say even though it makes me cringe: I CANNOT SEEM TO STOP THIS BLOG FROM BECOMING POPULAR. Despite never making an attempt to gain or keep readers, despite never trying to name-drop or publicize (because I wanted a quiet little livejournal), I keep getting popular. And being popular brings a whole new slew of concerns into my life. The comments and the emails take up more and more of my time. It’s a lot more work and anxiety to make my blog posts, knowing how many people are reading them. I spend more time afraid that somebody will track down my real identity. I go to work and people ask me, “How was your weekend?” and I cannot say, “Fucking insane! I was in the New York Times!” Instead I say, “You know, watched a movie, stayed at home,” and they make jokes about how boring I am. Ha ha! Yes, quite so. I work on what I consider my “real” writing – my fiction and autobiographical work – and get tired thinking about writing proposals and inquiries to agents and publishers where I have no credentials, because I cannot tell them about my blog.
I shut my blog down because I didn’t want to deal with all the attention. That’s not why I started this blog, and that’s not what I want. I spent an hour trying to catch up on comments, got through the 400 that had been in queue, only to find out that another 400 had built up in the meantime, most of them from the same trolls who were now accusing me of censoring their FREE SPEECHES. With the high proportion of trolls, and the insane amount of hits, I thought there was a pretty good chance that somebody would make an attempt at sabotage by trying to figure out my real identity. I didn’t want to worry about it, so I just shut down until the heat died out. I figured anybody who liked my blog would stick around and wait, and everybody else would be siphoned off whenever the next article about RAPE VICTIMS LIE or RACISM EXISTS came out.
As soon as I turned off my blog, I got to thinking. This shit wasn’t what I signed up for, and I had to admit, I’m dissatisfied with it. The divide between my anonymous persona and me was creating too many obstacles to the things I wanted to do. Without the parental notification articles, I’d probably be willing at this point to “come out,” but what’s done is done and that option is closed now. So, I’m left with a task I have appointed myself to perform for free. It has become draining and time-consuming, and it is constantly terrifying me with new surprises in popularity. It doesn’t meet my expectations of what I started it for, and it siphons time from my “real” writing. It’s given me a lot of new inspiration and growth and experience and ideas, but some of those ideas are contingent on the fact that I am POPULAR BLOG AUTHOR, and can’t be accomplished by real-life Harriet, who does boring things on her weekend.
So I decided that when I came back, I was going to announce that my blog was over. I’d leave it up for a few months, so people could copy whatever they liked about it, but then it’d be gone. No more worries about people discovering my identity, no more time sucked into a profitless hole. I can start from scratch with my real name somewhere else, with this new boost of confidence that people actually like my work.
That was the plan. Then, the other day, I watched the Itty Bitty Titty Committee. There was plenty about the movie that I thought was silly or ham-fisted or just kind of ridiculous, but that’s not the point. The point is, it got me thinking about “real” work. I too often cripple myself with this false division of what “counts” and what doesn’t, what’s real, what’s mature, and what’s just me fucking off. Thing is, this blog was me fucking off, and I now realize that I have been blessed to stumble upon a talent I didn’t know I had, and a way to access it that I never would have realized. I never in a million years would have thought that not taking shit super seriously would lead to goodness and wonder.
Watching IBTC, I was reminded of something I learned a long time ago but keep forgetting: if you want shit done, you just do it. If you want to start a revolution, you pull together some friends and you start a revolution. If you want to be a “real” writer, you write. If you want to help people, you jump in and start talking. If you want to do things properly, knock yourself out. But if you want to just do things, you get your hands dirty and accept mistakes. There is probably a word for this, or a particular brand of feminism, but I’ll just describe it how I understand it: I like people who create and move and change for the thrill and joy and sake of it. And I especially admire women who do this on their own terms, who just do it without dithering about how, who, what, where when, funding, backing, support, organization.
So I started thinking about expectations. In general, I believe that if the world doesn’t match your expectations, you only have two choices: change your expectations, or accept your dissatisfaction. You can’t change or control the world, only yourself, so you either change your expectations to suit the world better, or you resign yourself to being disappointed and stop taking it personally. So, for my blog, I expected a quiet little corner. I had that, for a while, but then I lost it, and I keep re-losing it harder and harder. I’d be willing to accept that, change my expectations of what this blog is, if I didn’t have other expectations. I expect to be a writer. And my concept of writer comes with this whole proper path of query-agent-rejection-rejection-rejection-success-book cover with my name on it-sense of personal satisfaction. I keep putting that life off. I don’t submit my work. It’s not rejection that bothers me. It’s the sheer amount of work that doesn’t involve writing. I want to be a writer because I like to write, not because I like to deal with query letters and agents and making connections and selling myself and all that bullshit. I want my work out there and able to be read by others. That’s my entire endgame. I don’t need money or fame or notoriety. I just want a book that can be acquired and read.
My blog, with its irrepressible fucking notoriety, is like this big nyah-nyah in the face of my writing expectations. Bypassing all the bullshit I hate about writing, my blog has become everything I wanted – except I can’t put my fucking name on it, and it’s not “real” writing. My blog is a bunch of ranting essays that I crack off when I should be finishing my stories or novels. It could be the perfect vehicle to publicize my other writing, except I can’t put my name on any of it. So, I’ve got two things that no longer meet my expectations and actively inhibit each other. Can I change my expectations?
I’ve decided I can. I’ve had a few long-term ideas that I’ve been wanting to put into formation things that are more suited to this blog than my “real” writing. When I’m inhibited by this proper idea of what’s real, those projects can never work. But when I open myself up to the idea of harnessing what I’ve got here without concern for the right way of doing things, this shit has got a chance. I know I’m being vague. That’s because explaining what I’m thinking of doing next would be another blog post and a half, and I want to spend a little more time thinking about how to enact all this.
So, in the meantime, here’s how it stands: Fugitivus is open for business again. I’m going to be making some big changes, though I don’t know how quickly the changes will happen, because I work 9-5 and also I am drunk right now. Hi!
Trackbacks and Pingbacks
Comments are closed.
Hooray drunk blogging!!!
And I will say very humbly that I’m glad you’re back. Rock on.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I don’t comment often…but I am so glad to see you back.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
i’m glad you’re back, and i’m really glad you’re doing well. i look up to you.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
When your blog was down, and I was wondering whether you’d ever bring it back again, I had to think about never knowing whether your fears had been realized and something bad had happened. I’m glad you wrote these last two posts, both because I like to read your writing, and because I’m glad to know that you are still safe. The internet is a strange thing, where one person can feel such concern for a person who they only know as words on a computer screen. The intelligence and eloquence of your writing, though — it really stands out. It’s nice to read it again. And I’ll be happy for as much or as little of it as you have to share.
So thanks.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Welcome back! I’ll belly up to the bar and hoist one in your honor.
Stay sane and stay safe.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Glad to see you’re back! <3
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Already said it on Twitter, but it bears repeating. Glad to have you back. Selfishly, I like how this blog challenges my thinking on things, and if I can flatter myself, it feel like you approach things analytically in a way similar to my own, which gives me an easier in-road to consider things that don’t always come up in my day-to-day.
Keep up the good work.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I am so glad you’re back.
Your rape joke takedown post was sheer genius, and I was just beside myself when it went *poof*. Every time I’ve tried to explain it to people, I’ve failed, but you did it, for which I am eternally grateful.
Thank you.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I’m very pleased you’ve decided to continue this. Fugitivus was one of the first feminist blogs I started reading, and it’s continued to be a source of content that I feel compelled to share with other people. Thanks for the time and effort you put into it.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Glad you are writing again. Your blog posts have been excellent. I am kind of sad that I probably won’t come across your “real” writing when it gets published (I am sure it will be even more excellent), because of the anonymity thing, but I guess that’s life.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Thank you for writing, thank you for all the work this entails. Thank you.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I don’t know if there’s a formal name for that approach, but I’ve heard the saying “if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing badly” (rather than leaving undone). Yes, sometimes badly is worse than nothing, but not usually: an imperfect dinner is usually still dinner, a ragged garden will still bloom and give tomatoes, and an awkward “I’m sorry” can be very welcome, whether it’s “I’m sorry I hurt you” or “My sympathies about your relative’s death.”
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Really, really glad to see you back, Harriet.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Thanks for coming back. your writing does make a difference–why, just the other day, I copied “Dream” and sent it to a friend who is wrestling with her addiction demons. it helps, that post. helps us both. thanks for that too. i get your reluctance to come back–and your ambivalence about staying anonymous. your courage is inspiring. thank you.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
HURRAH i was so sad when i thought you were gone!
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
If you ever decide to go PRIVATE again, will you email me and let me continue to be a reader?
The conundrum you bring up vis-a vis being a popular blogger and getting “real writing” jobs, books, and other things is a doozy, but maybe if you just keep doing what you WANT to do, it will solve itself.
It took me until nearly 50 to lean this!
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Thanks for asking, but I doubt I’ll ever operate a private blog. It will either be a public blog or no blog, and the temporary private setting here was just up while I vacillated between the two.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I’m glad you’re back, and I’m very glad you’re all right. Your writing is good and valuable, but your personal safety is the first priority.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I’m really glad you’re staying on, at least for now.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I’m glad you’re back and still writing.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I am so relieved to find out that you are whole and well and that the end of the blog was temporary. I am (unfortunately) part of the unwashed masses making your blog popular but I think you are the bee’s knees and I wish you could profit in some way from this blog. As it stands, I’m glad you have at least adjusted your expectations and come back to the blog world.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I have found your blog posts very valuable as I think through stuff in my life. Thank you for thinking out loud, analyzing, and letting us be part of it.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I’m glad you’re back, but even more so that you’ve found the proper role for your blog.
And, perhaps someday, if you’re no longer working on parental notification, or the law changes significantly, or you decide it’s time, you will put your name on your work. It doesn’t have to be today, or even this year.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I mostly just lurk because I’m so busy, but I am really glad to hear from you about the blog since I missed it quite a bit while it was closed. I hope it does work out well for you or, if it’s not what you want afterall, then you are able to do something you can put your name on. You are a very talented writer with incredibly important things to say that I believe will gain popularity regardless of where. Either way, you’re not alone in your fight and I truly appreciate what you do.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Thanks for coming back. I came across this blog when the Google Buzz thing happened, read some other posts, and realized how much I liked your writing and how much I needed your viewpoint (or viewpoints like it) in my life. It’s a side of things that I don’t think much about — at least, I didn’t. I do now.
So I’m glad you’re back.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I’m thrilled and relieved to see you’re still writing again, explaining all that stuff I have such a difficult time finding words for.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Harriet, I’ll read anything you write. You clarify very difficult matters in an authoritative and unassailable manner. Thank you so much for coming back.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Very glad to see you back and safe. You present some ideas in this post that I’ve been mulling over a lot lately–what “counts” as “real” work, how much effort to pour into something I can’t put my name on, etc. It’s great to be able to hear you thinking aloud again. Thanks.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I’m glad you’re OK. Welcome Back!
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Yaaaay! Welcome back!
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Oh wow, am I ever glad to see you back. (And sorry about the flood of douchebags!)
p.s. I love your ranting essays a lot, and also wanted to say thanks for posting such personal stuff–I am working through old abuse and rape trauma stuff in therapy right now and sometimes feel like I am insane or completely alone, and reading your blog has really helped me. You can articulate stuff that is still really confused for me, and that’s completely awesome.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I missed you! Happy to see you posting again. Not that I’d want you to if it wasn’t the right thing for you, but happy that your “what’s next” turned out to include some of this.
Going off at a slight tangent, I wrote a post some years ago mainly about anonymous blogging. It was prompted by watching a TV programme which reported on Zoe Margolis getting outed as the writer of “Girl with a one-track mind”, but developed into a general musing on the merits and trickinesses of anonymity.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I’m so glad you’re back and decided to keep you blog up. =)
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
You are so much more than a ghost with a typewriter. And if we hadn’t had the catalyst of your words, we might not have ever dared to open the door, much less walk through it.
Face it: Anonymous or not, you’re an inspiration. Thank you so much for bringing this blog back.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Add my voice to the ones glad you’re 1-safe and 2- back here again.
Your writing is so clear and thoughtful and puts into words so many things that I and others have trouble articulating.
You may at some point, if popularity continues to grow, publish the rants in book form – provided you can do so anonymously.
v glad to see you back!
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I’m very happy to see you back, Harriet – I don’t comment much, but I missed your posts
You have such an articulate way of writing & expressing ideas. I hope the best for you – and I hope that you will be find a way to make money from writing, and put your name to (some of) your work. Your blog is the one that I would miss the most if it disappeared from my reading list.
Thank you for staying public & for being brave and generous enough to share so much of your life with a bunch of strangers.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I really think if you want to write a story or a novel or anything that would qualify as “real”, you should publish it here. No doubt if it’s any good it will become popular and people will read it, and that, among other things, would be inspirational for writers all around. We don’t have to do things like they have been done for so much time (publishers, record labels, rats..), this is the internet! (I almost capitalized the word)
Anyway I’m glad you’re back, and like another commenter said, I’ll read anything you write.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I’ve been reading this blog for maybe 18 months now, and I cannot possibly state this strongly enough:
You have changed my life.
That you’ve come back makes me immensely happy. Thank you for all that you do and all the shit you put up with.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I’m happy you’re back. As Josh said above, this was one of the first feminist blogs I’ve read and a seriously amazing one. It articulated many things I had seen but hadn’t put to words, and while I disagree with you occasionally on minor points, I’d say that some 98% of this blog’s content is spot-on and terribly important for people to read.
This is unrelated, but best of luck with your fiction writing. Becoming a “good writer” takes time and patience and more time after that, but if your blog is anything to go by, you’re already there.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
This may sound silly or be a repeat of a question someone already asked…
But if you’re working for the court, and tying this blog to your real name isn’t an option why not submit to publishers with your pseudonym as long as they guarantee to keep it a pseudonym?
Or open up the blog to submissions from other authors so you’re not the only one writing here? Then that book/article could be by anyone who writes for the blog.
But when you get big enough to quit your day job, then revealing your name here should be ok.
And, lastly, if/when you need a copy editor or someone to read the chapters you’ve got and give honest (and often uber critical) feedback, please let me know. Mention who’s emailing me in the subject so I don’t trash it with the other spam. For you, I’d probably proof your first 100 pages free; after that we’d need to talk about payment or credit of some sort (I’m slowly building a reputation as a copy editor/editor, so feedback/a plug might be an option).
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
*So* relieved and glad that you’re okay. The fact that you’re blogging again is just the icing on the gravy.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
So very, very glad to see you back. Still one of my favorite blogs out in these here tubes.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Maybe, if you ever decide to submit through the book-publishing channels, you could use the same pseudonym you use for the blog? I’m not sure if you need to be concerned that no one (including an agent or a publisher) knows your real name or not. Going through the process does seem like it’d pose more risks, so can’t blame you if you don’t want to chance it.
In any case: welcome back!
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Believe it or not, submitting with my psuedonym had just never occurred to me. I grew up wanting to be a writer, and in my mind, “being a writer” meant having a book with your real name on it. When I started this blog, it was in no way meant to be construed as “writing”, and so it’s taken me a long time to realize that I can start changing my definitions of things.
As for opening up the blog to submissions, that is, in fact, one of the big changes I’ll be making here soon. I’m still working through how to do this, so “soon” might be an ambitious word, but I am going that way.
As for editing, thanks for the offer! I am now tunnel-visioned about my blog — not forever, but just until I get it how I want it — but I will keep that in mind when I sit down and nose through some of my “real” writing again.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Hi, just wanted to add my name to the (long, long) list of people who are glad to know you’re safe. I don’t know you, but you have taught me so much in the few months since I stumbled across this blog. If you are a “a ghost with a typewriter”, then you are an inspirational one. What you write here genuinely is life-changing, and I hope one day you can get the recognition for it that you deserve, without jeopardising your safety or your (also life-saving) day job.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
yay woohoo! Harriet is back!
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Like everyone else, I’m SO GLAD you are back. And since I know you disagree, I won’t say that you changed my life. What you have done is articulate my experience in such a way that it knocks my socks off.
The rape bar/joke essay left me stunned for days. For the first time I understood why I sat in my car in the parking garage and wept and screamed when BigWig at my office made a rape joke in a meeting and I didn’t know what else to do. I kept worrying that it would go away and I wouldn’t be able to read it again.
Please keep up the ranty writing.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Welcome back, Harriet. I’m glad you’re safe.
I struggle with the blogging anonymity vs “real writing” question all the time. I still haven’t really figured out how I want to manage it in the long run, but I love what you are saying about changing your expectations. You are doing good work here, even if it’s not what you envision when you think about Being A Writer. You are writing. You’re already a writer.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Cockles warmed.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
To Terry: I did get your comment, and have been saving it. Too busy at the moment! But I will shoot you an email sometime, someday, to talk more. Thanks!
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I’m THRILLED you are back.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
You’ve probably already considered this, but I thought I’d put it out there anyways…
I am making an assumption that you would be uncomfortable putting up a donations button that profited you, but how about a donation button that donates the funds to a women’s shelter or reproductive rights group that you know does good work?
You were saying that the fame part of it and the monetary part of it weren’t the important pieces for you, that it was the making a difference, reaching an audience, and changing how people think. I can guarantee you’re doing that… but I’m sure that many of your readers would like to do more, help in some way, but aren’t sure how to go about it. So frequently, people hesitate to donate to causes because they aren’t sure how the funding is set up, how much of it goes to administration rather than actual help, or how legitimate the cause/solicitor is. Many of them would trust you and your judgement, however.
You could just post a list of “Fugitivus Approved” societies/causes to donate to, but the rule for advertising is generally “make it easy” and that the fewer mouse clicks people have to make, the more likely they are to follow through with their impulse towards generosity.
It’s just a thought.
Thanks for coming back. I find your writing inspirational.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
It’s a good thought. I’m about to make a lot of blog changes, and this is one of the things I’ve been considering, though I hadn’t thought of “Fugitivus Approved” donation sites. Thanks.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I’m glad to see you back.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
Glad you are back, and I agree strongly with this: “I wanted my work to be free, free, free; the message was more important to me than the notoriety, and I felt like whatever people were getting out of it was way bigger than me.”
I don’t do personal writing on the scale and staggering depth you do, but even with legal/policy analysis writing I’ve done, I liked being anonymous and having that writing taken for what it was without people trying to tag it to a particular person, except inasmuch as particular traits of mine were relevant to what I was writing about (e.g. if talking about how affirmative action may have benefited me, noting that I was a woman of color). Sometimes when I see my blog noted as a source in legal articles and other things that would give me credibility in my profession, I wish I had put my name on it, but for the most part I’m just glad that people found something valuable in what I had to say.
Anyway, thank you for what you write in general, and even though it reaped a whirlwind, thank you for putting in your stark honest words the effect that Google’s thoughtlessness had on people who had heretofore been loyal customers.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0
I just wanted to say thank you. For writing about your experiences, and doing so in such a raw and way, putting beautiful words to awful experiences. You’ve helped more people than you know.
Like or Dislike:
0 
0