Icame across the blog of a university student I had met at a family gathering. I thought we had had a good conversation about her journalism program and her goals as a writer. So I was surprised to discover she describes me in her blog as a "typical yuppy, cynical culture critic."
Well, let me qualify that: I wasn't surprised by the various adjectives (I've been called pretty much everything under the sun), but I was surprised that a random pool-side conversation clearly not for any kind of public broadcast could end up on a blog. What kind of medium allows for such a casual invasion of privacy, for such offhand disparagement?
Culture makers have always had fractious relations with their so-called public. We want an audience, we want to be noticed and we need cash to keep producing work.
Thus, we alternately hate and worship the critics, pander to audiences while lamenting their lack of intellectual rigour, and spend days on end wondering why no one is talking about our work, wardrobes and dramatic pronouncements on the issues of the moment. So why don't we love the blogs? Theoretically, at least, they should be the artist's dream come true -- a place where we are what we think we should be: a constant source of fodder for our fascinated public.
But despite the power of the blog to spread ideas and promote or demote cultural products and producers, professional creative types remain at best ambivalent about blogs. The perception among us is that the blog is pretty much the domain of political scandals, scientologically conceived babies, and trigger-happy Goths. Like most of the creative people I know (excepting the growing number who are, themselves, bloggers), I've pretty much ignored the blogosphere, not once stopping to wonder if what is said on it might have an impact on how my work is received. It's not that I think blogs are unimportant. It's just that I never thought anyone would bother to blog about me.
But apparently I was wrong. Apparently barely-on-the horizon writers, filmmakers, sculptors, photographers and journalists are fair game. Which means that I and my colleagues need to start thinking about whether what is said in a blog could in some way affect our careers. And, more important, is there any other stuff out there about me?
It turns out there's more. Plenty more. A woman in San Francisco comes across news of my book being published. She writes: "My first reaction was, 'Hey. I went to high school with that guy.' " Her second reaction was an expletive regarding my ability to land a book deal. Thanks a lot, Christina, girl from high school whom I don't remember. Christina then goes on to note that she isn't annoyed by people who actually work hard at their writing, but "it's the Chucks and Hals and David Sedarises that get me, because they give the impression that they just sat down one day and blurted out whatever they happened to be thinking at the time, and next thing you know they're on book tours and doing interviews for major media outlets."
A slight pause to digest this information. Should I thank her for grouping me with guys like Chuck Klosterman and Sedaris? Should I ask her if she found me at all attractive in high school? Should I debunk her impression that my random ideas automatically end up on the bestseller list? Christina is self-aware enough to mock her own jealous reaction, but, still, it wouldn't have killed her to actually read some of my work before ever so ironically cutting it up.
Ah well, Christina doesn't have time to read my books, but apparently there are some out there who do. Kendall from New York writes on her MySpace blog that she loves the premise of my book Hello, I'm Special, but "the author is a little repetitive and, well, CANADIAN, if that makes any sense." Another blogger comments on my "arrogance." It's not all bad: Erika writes that my book "made me question my goal to be a writer and I'm going to focus on writing because I enjoy it, rather than because writing as a means for achieving a sort of immortality." I should send Erika one of those virtual thank-you greeting cards and write lengthy missives defending my various positions to the other "critics." Or should I? After all, David Sedaris doesn't search the blogs and send e-cards to admirers, does he?
