I've given this a lot of thought ...

Just a small reality check for everyone: that internet article was not about you and it wasn't directed at you in any way.

You know which article I mean; the one that you responded to with an unwarranted level of judgement or rage. I know this doesn't fit with your worldview, but the author posted something because they were moved to share or because it's their job to provide content. It had nothing to do with you. The author doesn't know you. You inserted yourself into their life by leaving some self-righteous, pity-party, sad face, self-centered word bomb in their comments. There is such a thing as a rhetorical question, people. When someone posts "What's your excuse?", unless they follow it up with "Let me know in the comments!" what they are actually saying is "I feel like I overcame a lot to gain what I have and I am proud of the results so I'm feeling a little sassy. Hopefully this inspires other people." That's it. There's no ulterior motive. When someone titles an article with some twist on "10 things you are doing wrong", they do not literally mean YOU because - say it with me now - the author doesn't know you. Provocative headlines get more clicks. If you took the click-bait and found that the article did not actually pertain to you, move along. This is not a crisis.

I know that the follow-up outrage to being called out on this is to cite the Constitution. Yes, everyone is entitled to their opinion and everyone is entitled to express it. That doesn't make your opinion any more right or important than the original post. I think that's what people don't get. Well, I'm not just here to point out problems, I will offer solutions as well. And here it is: if you don't agree with an article or if the writer somehow bungled the harrowing tale that is your life (because they don't know you and their article isn't about you, even a little), post your own and watch the asinine comments roll in.

I Love Writers

I love writers. That might sounds a little self-serving but it’s true. I feel inspired and energized when I spend time with other writers, but also comforted somehow. I try to describe these interactions to my husband and he just shakes his head. “I’m glad you found your people,” he says. He’s teasing me but he’s right. And what an odd lot we are.

The things that make us laugh are decidedly off center; a writer’s sense of humor is a bit morbid and far too reliant on wordplay for the general public. Writers live for literary references, it’s almost sad how much it pleases us. We are easily pleased in general, because we don't get excited about things as much as what that thing represents. Every gift we give is symbolic somehow of the occasion or the recipient. But it’s not all thoughtful gifts and nerdy puns. Writers scrutinize and spew trivia, behaviors which generally translates as “obnoxious” to others. Unfortunately for our loved ones, our sense of what is appropriate is often compromised by our love of language. A writer’s enthusiasm for the savage beauty of the truth or the unnoticed hilarity in tragic events generally usurps the quiet voice urging us to hold our tongues. We tend to be equal parts haughty ego and red-faced self-deprecation which is an exhausting combination for someone attempting to pay us a compliment. We’re neurotic and awkwardly passionate about seemingly random things. Our outbursts are unexpected (and maybe nonsensical) but - embarrassingly -  always whole-hearted.

Of course, there is the darker side. Our romantic entanglements often make no sense. At times, it’s almost like we have to follow any storyline to it’s conclusion, even if it’s clearly a tragedy. Writers are nearly incapable of being just plain happy or sad or anything so straightforward. Every emotion is nuanced, layered or tainted in some way, weighed against what we've experienced and our expectations as scene-setters. The ability to describe these complexities is the writer's gift, but it often feels more like an obsession. Sometimes you just want to turn it off and enjoy something, perfect or not. That’s where we go wrong; we can’t escape our brains and our attempts to do so can only be self-destructive. But, on the whole, I love writers. Even with all of our quirks and insecurities.

Have you noticed other traits common to writers? What has been your experience?