I want to thank all of you lovely readers for the encouraging emails you send, both those filled with praise and those filled with poison. They are all welcome. I especially want to thank the anonymous reader who dropped off the pine cone card at the newspaper office. It was forwarded to me and it was the best thing I’d gotten in the mailbox all week. Although I’ve received plenty of emails about my writing, I’ve never received an actual piece of mail until now. So, it’s going on the wall above my desk right next to the sign that reads, “You have to eat an elephant one bite at a time”.
Now about those poisonous emails. Like I just wrote, I welcome them, but I think we should lay down some rules of engagement. The rules are only made to increase the chances of you getting more than a two sentence reply from me, and they are as follows: You are allowed to call me any name you feel necessary. You can insult me, tear apart my writing, tell me how wrong I am, tell me my clothes don’t match, that I smell like cheese, and that my nose is wonky. If you need to get all of that out of your system because something I wrote pissed you off, then you just knock yourself out, Sunshine. But, if you expect me to argue with you, you’ll be disappointed. It’s been said that arguing on the internet is like playing chess with a pigeon. No matter how good you are at chess, the pigeon is still going to knock over the pieces, shit on the board and strut around like he won. I neither play chess with pigeons, nor do I argue on the internet.
However, I do discuss things, although not usually with pigeons unless I’m trying to convince them that using my car as their toilet isn’t very nice. So, if you want to have a discussion about something I’ve written, I’d be happy to do so. I just ask that when you write, you give me solid reasons to discuss about why you think I’m wrong. Just telling me I’m stupid won’t precipitate a discussion. Just telling me I’m wrong won’t precipitate a discussion. Telling me that your dog could poop a better article* won’t precipitate a discussion. But, if you want to write an email where you’ve actually put some thought past “you’re dumb” into it, I’d be happy to have a discussion, except for those times when I wouldn’t be.
I don’t ever pretend to have all the answers, or to even be right all the time. I’m just some middle-aged chick writing about what I believe, or don’t believe. If I am lucky enough, I’ll get one of you to think about something in a way you hadn’t before, and if I’m even luckier, one of you will get me to think about something in a way that I hadn’t before.
Rachel Birdsell is a freelance writer and artist. You can reach her at rabirdsell@gmail.com
*An actual comment from an actual reader who was obviously actually not happy with something I wrote.
Wait a Minute, Mr. Postman
Rachel Birdsell
I want to thank all of you lovely readers for the encouraging emails you send, both those filled with praise and those filled with poison. They are all welcome. I especially want to thank the anonymous reader who dropped off the pine cone card at the newspaper office. It was forwarded to me and it was the best thing I’d gotten in the mailbox all week. Although I’ve received plenty of emails about my writing, I’ve never received an actual piece of mail until now. So, it’s going on the wall above my desk right next to the sign that reads, “You have to eat an elephant one bite at a time”.
Now about those poisonous emails. Like I just wrote, I welcome them, but I think we should lay down some rules of engagement. The rules are only made to increase the chances of you getting more than a two sentence reply from me, and they are as follows: You are allowed to call me any name you feel necessary. You can insult me, tear apart my writing, tell me how wrong I am, tell me my clothes don’t match, that I smell like cheese, and that my nose is wonky. If you need to get all of that out of your system because something I wrote pissed you off, then you just knock yourself out, Sunshine. But, if you expect me to argue with you, you’ll be disappointed. It’s been said that arguing on the internet is like playing chess with a pigeon. No matter how good you are at chess, the pigeon is still going to knock over the pieces, shit on the board and strut around like he won. I neither play chess with pigeons, nor do I argue on the internet.
However, I do discuss things, although not usually with pigeons unless I’m trying to convince them that using my car as their toilet isn’t very nice. So, if you want to have a discussion about something I’ve written, I’d be happy to do so. I just ask that when you write, you give me solid reasons to discuss about why you think I’m wrong. Just telling me I’m stupid won’t precipitate a discussion. Just telling me I’m wrong won’t precipitate a discussion. Telling me that your dog could poop a better article* won’t precipitate a discussion. But, if you want to write an email where you’ve actually put some thought past “you’re dumb” into it, I’d be happy to have a discussion, except for those times when I wouldn’t be.
I don’t ever pretend to have all the answers, or to even be right all the time. I’m just some middle-aged chick writing about what I believe, or don’t believe. If I am lucky enough, I’ll get one of you to think about something in a way you hadn’t before, and if I’m even luckier, one of you will get me to think about something in a way that I hadn’t before.
Rachel Birdsell is a freelance writer and artist. You can reach her at rabirdsell@gmail.com
*An actual comment from an actual reader who was obviously actually not happy with something I wrote.