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On the importance of pseudonymous activity

On the importance of pseudonymous activity

We here at Dear Author have always supported anonymity and pseudonymity. We have allowed people to use pennames and alias in the comments even when it meant they would be hurling insults at us, even when they engaged in sock puppetry (by changing their alias but posting from the same IP address).  We do this because we believe in providing a safe place to express your opinion. We don’t always carry out this philosophy perfectly. We’ve made mistakes (and will continue to do so because we’re human and imperfect).

Most of the reviewers at DA use a pseudonym as do many authors in the romance community. Some people use their full legal name and some do not. There are many reasons for using a pseudonym and most of them are valid and as Justice John Paul Stevens noted, it’s a protected right.

On Saturday, author Kathleen Hale was given a platform on the Guardian, one of the most venerable book outlets in the English speaking world. Using that platform, she chronicles a months long stalking campaign to a Goodreads reviewer who Hale charactered as her number one critic.

I’m not sure why Hale assigns the moniker of #1 critic to this particular Goodreads reviewer because Hale’s book is the subject 170 one star ratings on Goodreads.

Hale became strangely fixated on the GR reviewer and proceeds to spend months (yes months) infiltrating the GR reviewer’s online life until she is one day able to obtain the reviewer’s address. From there, Hale took her stalking offline.

This is the course of events. On January 31, 2014, Goodreads reviewer begins chronicling her reading of Hale’s book through the use of status updates. This is a behavior that Goodreads promotes and places the status updates box on the front page. It is literally the second thing on the sidebar and one of the first things on the mobile app.

Screen Shot 2014-10-18 at 8.22.38 PM

Here’s what Hale alleges the blogger did:

  • She had tweeted me saying she had some ideas for my next book. It should be noted that this was (if it happened) in response to Hale’s request ON TWITTER for IDEAS FROM READERS! In an attempt to connect with readers, I’d been asking Twitter for ideas – “The weirdest thing you can think of!” – promising to try to incorporate them in the sequel.
  • The “review” (it was never a review but a collection of status updates which, as identified above is a GR approved and promoted activity) “warn[ed] other readers that my characters were rape apologists and slut-shamers. She accused my book of mocking everything from domestic abuse to PTSD.  This is accurate. The status updates (as well as other reviews) were disturbed that the characters in the book fake being in a abusive domestic relationship in order to gain information about someone else).
  • The “review” noted that there was rape and Hale contends there is no rape in the book. In the original status update (and these cannot be edited. I know bc I’ve had awful typos in status updates and hate that I can’t edit them), the reviewer noted that there was statutory rape. Hale doesn’t acknowledge this but instead uses it as part basis for her later actions.
  • Hale then is directed to Stop the GR Bullies where she finds a page on the GR Reviewer. According to fake person Athena Parker who co founded Stop the GR Bullies, the GR Reviewer attacked a fourteen year old. Stop the GR Bullies is a well known hate site that uses out of context screenshots to construct stories out of whole cloth. They have targeted people like Courtney Milan as well as many other individuals I respect. 
  • The GR Reviewer has a ripple effect. In the following weeks, [the GR reviewer's] vitriol continued to create a ripple effect: every time someone admitted to having liked my book on Goodreads, they included a caveat that referenced her review. The ones who truly loathed it tweeted reviews at me. At this point, the GR reviewer status updates have become “vitriol” and Hale starts blaming everything on the GR reviewer. I did a quick click through and did not see any references to the GR reviewer’s updates. But let’s be fair, even if this did happen how was it the GR reviewer’s fault. Referencing another blogger’s take and acknowledging problematic themes is not uncommon and certainly not “bullying” behavior.
  • The GR Reviewer began tweeting ridicule. There isn’t any evidence of this and “that same day” refers to no date at all. In other words, Hale makes up a date. Her previous paragraph was “In the following weeks…” so who knows what date Hale is referring to. It’s convenient not to have a date. That way we can’t verify Hale’s claims.  “That same day, [the GR Reviewer] began tweeting in tandem with me, ridiculing everything I said.”
  • Watching the GR Reviewer tweet about her manuscript, Hale subtweets and is subsequently bombarded with unhappy responses.One afternoon, good-naturedly drunk on bourbon and after watching [GR reviewer] tweet about her in-progress manuscript, I sub-tweeted that, while weird, derivative reviews could be irritating, it was a relief to remember that all bloggers were also aspiring authors. My notifications feed exploded. Bloggers who’d been nice to me were hurt. Those who hated me now had an excuse to write long posts about what a bitch I was, making it clear that:1) Reviews are for readers, not authors.  2) When authors engage with reviewers, it’s abusive behaviour.  3) Mean-spirited or even inaccurate reviews are fair game so long as they focus on the book. “Sorry,” I pleaded on Twitter. “Didn’t mean all bloggers, just the ones who talk shit then tweet about their in-progress manuscripts. I actually saw this one happen on Twitter and Hale’s memory is occluded here, either intentional or not. She actually subtweeted about a three star review. 
  • The review she subtweeted is here. The characters using these words were unlikable and supposed to be that way, but I still think the author could have made them plenty unlikable without using language that pisses off a large portion of the population.”

And the screenshot which Hale deleted is here:

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To summarize, the extent of the GR Reviewer’s actions includes:

  1. Making status updates about a book.
  2. Possibly getting into a fight with a previous author or reviewer.
  3. Possibly subtweeting Hale.
  4. Tweeting about her own work in progress.

You might assume by the response of Hale to the blogger’s actions and the nearly 5000 words devoted to this response that the blogger was engaged in really terrible behavior. Certainly commenters and twitter denizens believed the blogger was “deranged” and “no angel” and “vicious”  I read the Guardian piece carefully, probably five times, to ascertain exactly what it was that the blogger/reviewer had done and arrived at the above four actions. Let’s take a look at Hale’s actions.

  • She obtains the blogger’s address under false pretenses from a book club.  Over the next few months, my book came out, I got distracted by life and managed to stay off Goodreads. Then a book club wanted an interview, and suggested I pick a blogger to do it.“[GR Reviewer],” I wrote back. I knew tons of nice bloggers, but I still longed to engage with [GR Reviewer] directly. The book club explained that it was common for authors to do “giveaways” in conjunction with the interview, and asked if I could sign some books. I agreed, and they forwarded me [GR Reviewer]‘s address.
  • She pays for a background check to determine the blogger’s name and employer. According to the telephone directory and recent census reports, nobody named [GR Reviewer's name] lived there. The address belonged to someone I’ll call [ ] who, according to an internet background check ($19), was 46 – not 27, as [GR Reviewer] was – and worked as [job] of a company that authorises [stuff].
  • She rents a car and drives to the GR Reviewer’s house using the address she obtains under false pretenses. “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Sarah said, sending me a car rental link. “Go talk to her.”…I opened a new tab to book a car.
  • Because her feelings got hurt. “How did you know that she hurt my feelings?”
  • She goes to the blogger’s house. Examines the property and the contents of the owner’s vehicle, looks at the dogs, compares the information with all the information the blogger has innocently shared online such as vacations and her pets. Before I could change my mind, I walked briskly down the street toward the Mazda parked in [GR Reviewer's] driveway. A hooded sweatshirt with glittery pink lips across the chest lay on the passenger seat; in the back was a large folder full of what looked like insurance claims. I heard tyres on gravel and spun round to see a police van. For a second I thought I was going to be arrested, but it was passing by – just a drive through a quiet neighbourhood where the only thing suspicious was me.  I strolled to the front door. A dog barked and I thought of [her] Instagram Pomeranian. Was it the same one? The doorbell had been torn off, and up close the garden was overgrown. I started to feel hot and claustrophobic. The stupid happiness book grew sweaty in my hands. I couldn’t decide whether to knock. The curtains were drawn, but I could see a figure silhouetted in one window, looking at me. The barking stopped. I dropped the book on the step and walked away
  • Calls the blogger’s work under false pretenses.  Instead of returning to [her] house, which still felt like the biggest breach of decency I’d ever pulled, I decided to call her at work. Sarah and I rehearsed the conversation. “What do I even say?” I kept asking. “Just pretend to be a factchecker,” she said. “So now I’m catfishing her.” I called the number, expecting to get sent to an operator. But a human answered and when I asked for [her], she put me through. I spat out the line about needing to factcheck a piece. She seemed uncertain but agreed to answer some questions. “Is this how to spell your name?” I asked, and spelled it.
  • Confirms that this is the address of the blogger with a publisher. An hour after I got off the phone to [her], [she] deleted her Twitter and set her Instagram to private. A contact at a publishing house confirmed that they’d been sending books to [GR Reviewer's] address all year, and as recently as two weeks ago.
  • Publishes the sick account on Guardian and receives accolades.

My hope is that Guardian will wake up and realize that the publication of this stalking account should be deleted. That it and whomever applauds this piece understands it is enabling completely out of bounds (and likely criminal) behavior.  Sarah from Smart Bitches writes:

I don’t understand why the Guardian chose to publish that essay. I don’t understand the thought process of the editor who gave it the green light and effectively condoned the stalking and harassment of a reviewer. The fact that the Guardian published it is as disturbing and abhorrent as Hale’s actions – to say nothing of the degree to which she and the editors at the Guardian both seem to lack understanding of how inappropriate those actions were. The fear and horror and wariness that Hale’s and the Guardian’s decisions have created in many people is absolutely real and justified.

There is no question that some authors think Goodreads should be shut down and wish that there were only “professional” reviewers left to review books and that readers should be allowed to only say good things about all products. And there’s no question that this type of action by Hale will lead to some reviewers/bloggers deciding that the hobby of blogging is simply too rife with complications to continue. Possibly that is the outcome that some want.

I’m horrified that anyone thinks that what Hale did was okay. If this was for publicity, it’s even more sickening. I know that by publishing this, I’m raising the signal for Hale but it was in the Guardian so the signal is pretty damn big right now. There are very few instances wherein Hale’s behavior is justified and nothing in the twisted, one sided account by Hale articulates even one of those few instances.

The following is a storify account compiled by BookThingo of various reactions.

View the story “What happens when The Guardian lets an author gloat about stalking a blogger” on Storify

The Agony and Ecstasy of Social Media

The Agony and Ecstasy of Social Media

Today two authors debate the issue of social media in writing. In today’s society does a book exist if it is not shared on social media? Is the constant and immediate contact between readers and authors creating a relationship with the book far outside the pages reaching to the author herself? Does the existence of social media enhance or detract from the reader experience? Today’s viewpoints start the discussion from the author point of view, but I’d love to hear from both readers and authors regarding whether social media is good for books or detrimental to both reading and writing culture.

HOW DO I TWEET THIS? A Rumination on Writing in the Electronic Age by Dave Lowry

My literary agent, the estimable Ms. Megibow, is endlessly patient, formidably driven, unfailingly helpful.

But she was not there.

And so it is difficult for her to imagine what it was like.  Difficult too, to try to explain it without sounding annoyingly self-centered.

It was in the headquarters of Missouri’s Greene County Public Library where I began a relationship with books, back in the Sixties.  I would say it was where I fell in love with books.  But I was fortunate to have had teachers who did not allow such sloppy usage.  Which should give you some idea of just how long ago that was.  Back before air conditioning was common anywhere in the Ozarks, even in public buildings.  Like the library.  And so the massive windows would have been pushed open against the torpid Midwestern summers and I would sit at a big oak table up on the second floor and read and read and a stray honeybee would drift in now and then, and circle in big lazy loops and find its way out again, its buzz being the loudest—the only—sound in an otherwise tomb-like room, and I was as happy as it is possible, I suspect, for a human to be.  Certainly as happy as an eight-year-old kid could be.

I note this not to slosh around in a tub of soapy warm nostalgia.  Oh well, perhaps I do that just a little bit.  More so, though, because it helps to understand the distance between now and then.  Books were on shelves.  They had a heft.  Texture.  A smell, of binding glue and paper and, when they’d aged properly, a bouquet.

Now, well, it is different, isn’t it?

The notion, prevalent, is that “social media” must play a vital role in the presentation of a book today.  In many instances now, the book is itself almost completely an extension of that media.  There are books no more substantial—in terms of their physical presence but, come to think of it, in their gravitas as well—than the electronic glitter that animates your microwave.  Reviews are no longer confined to the back of The New Yorker.  They are online, just like the books.  Discussions of those books no longer are conducted in the pages of periodicals:  today a reader’s opinion can be read as quickly as it is rendered—read by thousands sitting and staring at screens held in their hands.

It was hot in that library, on those long summer afternoons in the Ozarks.  And while the library was a big one, it did not have even a fraction of what can be downloaded on even the simplest of computerized devices we now enjoy.  So this is not some longing for a golden past.  It is more an apologia.  To write a book was to produce the thing, to have the tangible product in one’s hand.  To be a writer was to generate words on paper.  I still feel odd when, at the end of the day, I do not have a pile of paper on my desk that represents the orts and leavings of my labour.  That is why it is so odd for me to contemplate the era of publishing into which we have entered, one where one’s presence on all manner of social media is at least as important as what it is one writes.  And why, no doubt, I test the patience of my agent.

There is something else in the world of books that has changed with the advent of those social media.  And that is the notion that authors are accessed easily, that readers can contact them, know their thoughts on a range of subjects—that those who write the books are really just sort of like friends, whose personalities are revealed, whose opinions are readily available.  One sees these in other arenas of our society.  Remember when, aside from the avuncular and be-toqued Mr. Boyardee, you could not have named a single chef in America?  Now we know them, see their programmes on TV, read their memoirs, listen to interviews.  They ruminate on the nature of the culinary arts, proffer opinions on a host of topics.

I do not care much about what energizes chefs, politically or culturally.  I care what their food tastes like.  So it is with authors.  I don’t really care much what Stephen King thinks of climate change.  Or of J.K Rowling’s opinion on the geopolitics of the Middle East.  If authors want to make social or political points, they can do it, I should think, in the plots of their stories, in the context of their writing.  To pontificate, wax philosophic online, on one’s blog or through other electronic messaging, is, to me, time not spent writing.  Did Milton sit around and scribble about the motivations of his work?  Hemmingway could be an enormous bore but at least he confided his sentiments to his work.  I think had an editor or agent insisted Hemmingway indulge in a regular bit of chit-chat about what inspired him to create, he’d have eaten that shotgun years earlier than he did.

I don’t wish to be dismissive.  Or disdainful.  The Scarlet Letter didn’t get written on a laptop, but if one had been available, Hawthorne would, I bet, have used it.  And perhaps Melville would have posted a perfectly delightful blog about whale watching off New Bedford if the internet had been around.  That eight-year-old sitting in a stifling library more than four decades ago was not, he is thankful, frozen in such a place forever.  That said, change happens slowly for some.  It should happen thoughtfully as well.  So I hope my agent, as well as my readers, will continue to be patient.

Now:  how do I post this on my blog?

18222701Dave Lowry
 
Bio Dave calls himself a writer because “guy who sits in his jammies with a laptop, watching old episodes of Law & Order all day” doesn’t fit conveniently into the space for “0ccupation” in the IRS tax forms. He actually gets paid to eat, reviewing restaurants for St. Louis Magazine. His nonfiction books about Japan, including The Connoisseur’s Guide to Sushi, have been translated into German, Italian, and Japanese, which makes him, in a way, the generational voice of the Axis powers. He is a trifle taller than his writing makes him sound.
 
Chinese Cooking for Diamond Thieves: Amazon | BN | iTunes
 

Why I Tweet by Roni Loren

Social media presence. Branding. Platform. At last count, there were about seventeen ka-billion articles and books about those topics for writers. We’re supposed to be out there. We’re supposed to be branding ourselves (which sounds painful). We’re supposed to talk to the masses so that they LIKE us.

So, of course, that’s why I’ve spent years blogging and tweeting and poking my nose in social media, right? No. Not even a little bit. I’d like to seem super business savvy, but really, the truth is much more pedestrian.

I like it. I’m comfortable in an online world. Writing is solitary, and I need a watercooler.

I first got onto Twitter when I entered the blogosphere in 2009—before I wrote my debut novel and before I had an agent or publishing deal—because I wanted to chat with other writers and readers. I’m not surrounded by a lot of people who are interested in those things, so I went were I could find my fellow book geeks. And wow, they were everywhere. I was hooked. Look, people who get me! Yay! Let’s talk about Outlander and braid each other’s hair.

So perhaps when I did eventually get published, that’s why it was so natural for me to continue along with social media because there was really no pressure of platform-building and branding involved. I was already out there as myself. It was simply another part of my daily life.

Online feels natural to me. I met my husband in a chatroom back in the early days of AOL dial-up (talking about LSU Football, of all things—very romantic, right?) Our fourteenth wedding anniversary is next month. So the internet has long been a place where I’ve felt comfortable interacting with people in a genuine way. In fact, I think it’s much easier to get to know me online than it is in person because I’m pretty introverted face to face.

 

So why wouldn’t I want to connect with readers online? Well, some would argue that books should stand alone. Knowing too much about an author can taint the reading experience. I definitely understand that argument. And I won’t lie. There have been some authors who have said things online that have made me not want to read their books anymore. If someone is ugly or dismissive toward others or has some political opinion that makes my skin crawl, it’s going to make me not want to support them with my money or reading time.

But this is, by far, the minority. Much more often, I discover new authors because I enjoy who they are online, or I become a more fervent fan of someone I already liked because they’re funny or interesting on Twitter. And I still have fangirl moments when an author I admire interacts with me because part of me is still that kid who idolized writers.

When I was growing up, authors were my rockstars. Untouchable. Mysterious. I imagined them sitting in their mansions or eccentric mountain cabins, typing their brilliance on an old-fashioned typewriter. I had never met a real writer. The closest I could get to my favorites was by signing up for their fan club and getting a form letter in the mail.

That old way has some romanticism to it. If I had known a favorite author was really just a regular person living in the ‘burbs and making mac ‘n cheese for her kids in between writing scenes and paying bills, maybe it would’ve lost some of the magic. But at the same time, I can’t imagine how excited young me would’ve been to have the opportunity to directly interact with a favorite author in real time. I think I would’ve sacrificed some magic for that chance.

So I choose to be online because I don’t need that buffer of mystery between me and readers (or fellow industry people.) I want to know them. And I’m fine with them knowing me. Yes, I keep some things private—my kidlet’s name, family stuff—but otherwise, what you see online is who I am. Even my husband has joined in the fun on Twitter (@TheMrLoren). I’ve been absolutely enriched by the people I’ve met out there. And I have found friends online who I know will be lifelong.

Social media has added much more to my world (friends, connections, advice, support, reading recommendations, and oh yeah, a husband) than it’s taken away (time!). So should writers be on Twitter? Only if they want to be. Only if the author can be natural and genuine in that medium. And only if he or she knows how not to be an obnoxious, self-promoting blowhard. It’s not one size fits all. (Let’s not talk about my complete ineptitude with Facebook.) It’s a choice. A trip to the watercooler is never a requirement. But it certainly is fun. :-)

NeedYouTonightFinalRoni Loren
 
 
NEED YOU TONIGHT: Amazon | BN | iTunes
NOT UNTIL YOU (pub