On Blogging

On being ostracised for speaking my mind

by Veronica Foale on March 23, 2012

in On Blogging

On the Internet, every day, thousands of anonymous comments are left. Trolls and pseudonyms, all mixed up in a giant stew of anonymity, hiding behind a false name and a false face.

Sometimes, one of those comments is left on a blog of mine and oooof, goes the wind out of my sails, because accusatory comments are unpleasant, at best. Usually, anons cover their tracks well enough, but sometimes, an IP address is left unblocked and there is a virtual paper trail left to follow.

This is what happened to me a little while ago. I followed a virtual paper trail and found my anonymous commenter in a place where they really weren’t anonymous at all. I screenshotted the evidence and spent three days, riding the high of “I worked out who you are” before crashing back down to earth because, “I worked out who you are”.

It’s never nice discovering who dislikes you enough to say unpleasant things, hiding behind an assumed name and a veil of pseudo-anonymity.

**

I’m a nice person. I’m kind to animals, I smile at strangers. I offer to help people when they drop the contents of their purse on the supermarket floor and I will willingly give support to someone who needs it.

I genuinely like people. I like hearing your stories and listening to your experiences.

I am a good person.

I also tell the truth, stand up for myself when I think things are unfair and refuse to stay silent if I think something is a problem.

Being kind and being strong, these are not mutually exclusive things – however, being truthful on the Internet, being strong and standing up and saying there is a problem – this is not what people want you to do.

No, it seems that people want happy happy joy joy and silently whispered conversations. They don’t want to know what I truly think.

Taylor Mali said: I implore you. I entreat you. I challenge you. To speak with conviction. To say what you believe in, in a manner that bespeaks the determination with which you believe it.

[vimeo source]

Those words have stuck with me. I have the courage to own my own convictions. To stand behind my words and to say what I feel, when I feel it.

And I would like to not be ostracised for daring to have an opinion.

Because from where I stand, that’s what it feels like.

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On looking forward and back

by Veronica Foale on July 4, 2011

in Navelgazing,On Blogging

I look around. It’s dusty here and a little damp. It seems I left my blog in the darkness and it’s started to grow moss.

Never mind, I like moss anyway. It gives character and somewhere for the bugs to crawl. What use is light if there is no darkness to balance it out.

I’ve been stuck. Caring too much, wanting too much, not wanting enough. The landscape has shifted under my feet and riding out an earthquake appears to be harder than surfing a wave. I don’t want what you’ve got, I want what I want.

I want to write. And I’m going to, even if I’m tired. Even when it hurts, I’m going to write.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

***

I’ve lived in my house for three years now and it wasn’t until my grandmother died that I hung pictures on the walls. Her pictures, the paintings and photographs that had lived in her house for as long as I could remember. I hung them and I thought of her and missed what used to be.

But you can’t go backwards. This life of ours dictates forward movement only and here I am, moving along. A snails pace sometimes, but it’s movement. Time passes and I pass with it.

Yesterday, I went looking for a manila folder I knew I had. Dusty and tired I eventually found it, the detritus of high school. Inside, paintings from another time, done when I had time to spare and no one wiping snot on my trousers.

Carefully, I pinned them to my walls, wondering if I was still the same person who painted them.

I haven’t painted in years, now.

***

Blogging is strange for me lately. Peeling off layers of my own skin to poke around underneath and see what falls out.

It’s still a shark tank out there and while I’ve got my oxygen, I’m not sure I’m going to last much longer.

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Welcome to the InterWebs, Part 4

by Veronica Foale on May 24, 2011

in Fiction,On Blogging,Writing

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

***

The InterWebs had gotten hot and sticky and Anna’s hand still throbbed from the bite her Blogroll had given her. While not a nasty bite by any stretch of the imagination, Anna couldn’t seem to find the place in her head where she could erase the bite and move on, and so it continued to hurt.

Susan had brought her into the fold of the personal bloggers a few days ago now and she was slowly settling in. There were a lot of bloggers still racing around and trying to outdo each other, but it wasn’t anything that Anna couldn’t cope with. The pace was less frenzied in this section of the InterWebs and while the advertising continued to flash at her, it didn’t seem quite so bright anymore.

The personal bloggers were an interesting mix of people, some parents and some not. The parents amongst them tended to call themselves Mummyblogger Rejects, which seemed a little harsh to Anna, surely the Mummybloggers didn’t reject anyone? She’d only left because she couldn’t seem to fit in and that was her own issue.

Anna wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore and her grandiose dreams of InterWeb life seemed a very long way away, when compared to the unReality of the situation she was in.

Since she had moved over to the Personal Blogger section of the InterWebs, Anna had felt like she could breathe a little easier. It wasn’t so perfectly shiny and happy over here and there was some grit and substance to the bloggers, which she liked. It suited her here, better than the Mummybloggers had, with their perfect children and smiling personas.

It’s strange though, thought Anna, I’m not sure what is actually different here. The label, yes, the pressure, probably, but these women, they’re all the same really.

Anna was busy pondering this when a group of women ran past her, looking frenzied. She wasn’t quite sure what was happening, when the shouts started.

“BANDWAGON!”

“QUICK, SOMEONE CATCH IT!”

The women jostled her and she found herself being moved along with the group, quite without wanting to. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be trampled.

The shouting started again.

“QUICK QUICK, THERE IT GOES!”

“DID YOU GET IT? DAMMIT, SOMEONE CATCH IT!”

Carefully, Anna maneuvered herself to the side of the crowd, to try and see what was happening. The press of bodies didn’t make this easy and they were running faster and faster. Beside her ran a stocky looking women with dark hair. Anna tugged on her sleeve.

“I’m new here, can you tell me what’s happening?”

The stocky woman looked at Anna, and answered without breaking stride. “It’s the Bandwagon love, we’re trying to catch it.”

Anna wasn’t any less confused. “A bandwagon? But what’s a Bandwagon?”

“You jump on it love, and do things as a group. They’re powerful, Bandwagons are.” The stocky woman put her head down and ran faster.

“But why?” Anna asked.

“Why love? Because we can. Why not? There’s power in groups love, lots of power.”

Without a backwards glance, she pushed through the people in front of her and disappeared.

Anna wasn’t certain this was what she wanted to be doing, but the push and crush of the crowd made it impossible for her to escape.

Suddenly, a giant cry went up from the crowd and the running slowed. It appeared the Bandwagon had been caught.

The excitement in the crowd was palpable and Anna had to fight to not get caught up in the heady rush of peer pressure. The people behind her were pushing forwards and she moved with the crowd, completely trapped now. Keeping her eyes on the backs of the women in front of her, she moved along.

Then she was being helped up into the Bandwagon and even though it looked like she would never fit, a space opened up for her. The stocky woman was sitting across from her.

“I see you made it here okay then love?”

Anna nodded, still out of breath from the chase.

She looked around.

“What are we doing here?” she asked.

“Why, we’re on the Bandwagon love! It’s going to empower us to make changes in the InterWebs and we’ll be able to use it to our advantage!”

“What kinds of changes?” Anna was normally a smart woman, but the Bandwagon jumping confused her.

“Well, this Bandwagon is about fairness for all bloggers. It’s showing us all how to behave, so that we can all get along. Isn’t that just what we need?”

Anna looked away. She didn’t think that this was exactly what she needed.

“Where do Bandwagons come from then?” she asked after a time.

“This one’s Jennifer’s love. She’s had some cracking ideas lately, ways for bloggers to get along and make money and it’s just lovely.”

Anna was even more dubious about the Bandwagon now. The rumours about Jennifer had been steadily growing since she left the Mummyblogger camp – rumours of Jennifer making decisions for the entire community and there was talk of a rethinking how a community works. She wasn’t sure she wanted a Queen in the InterWebs, not even a queen of the relatively small Mummybloggers.

She looked around, trying to work out if she could get off. It looked like there was a path back off to one side, if she could just reach it. Standing up, she braved the crush of sitting people.

“Excuse me, sorry, can I just get through…. thank you so much.”

A few minutes and countless trodden toes later, she was able to climb off the Bandwagon.

Standing in the open air again, she was able to breathe.

Looking around, there seemed to be a few bloggers who had decided that this bandwagon wasn’t for them, or who hadn’t climbed on in the first place. Anna smiled at them and one woman smiled back, before walking over.

“Are you okay? You look a bit shaken.”

Anna laughed. “Yes, I’m fine. My first experience of a Bandwagon, that’s all.”

“Ahhhh.” The woman smiled knowingly. “That’s okay, you get used to them. The key is finding out whether it’s something you truly believe in before you jump on.”

“I know that now” said Anna.

With one last pat on the shoulder, the woman made to walk off.

“You’ll be okay?” she asked.

“Yes, yes, I’ll be fine.” said Anna.

Taking a deep breath, Anna turned around and walked away. Behind her, the Bandwagon trailed off, taking the bloggers with it.

Anna was sure that Bandwagons were perfectly alright for some people, in some cases.

But she just wasn’t sure that they were right for her.

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Finding my balance

by Veronica Foale on March 27, 2011

in Family,Life,On Blogging

It’s a balancing act, knowing what to write about on the internet. An intricate dance of stories and perspectives, making sure you don’t put words in someone’s mouth and side-stepping the issue of privacy invasion. Knowing when to speak and when to hold your tongue, when to write and when to walk away.

It’s about more than not wanting to damage your own brand with drama.

It’s about knowing that truth can be fluid sometimes and not wanting it to be; wanting truth to be truth and lies to remain unspoken.

It’s a fine line.

***

My son is sad and his warm mass draped on my lap and snuggled to my chest brings to the fore all my maternal feelings. It doesn’t matter than he is dribbling in my cleavage or that I am not able to move, he is warm and sad and I am his mother and I can fix this, this time. When he is older and I cannot surround him with my arms, then he will be sad and my heart will break at how useless magic kisses have become.

I put him to bed with a warm bottle, knowing that he is tired and listen to him cry anyway. This is hard. This breaks my heart. This is probably best for all of us, that he sleeps now.

***

I send my daughter outside, to play fortheloveofgod go and play. She lies on the trampoline for an hour, not moving and I watch her as I wander around the house. She is tired and miserable and sad and bendy. She comes back inside and we lay together on the couch and I feel the heat of her. A temperature rising, her joints aching. I thank everything that I have panadol handy and I dose her up and lay her in bed. She is limp and miserable and I lay with her for a time.

Motherhood is hard.

Motherhood is beautiful.

***

The truth is hard.

The truth is beautiful.

With all this talk of authenticity, I can only be myself and this is how I am in real life too. I might not talk about all of it, but I’m honest at the core.

There are things happening and things brewing and at this point, I’m not sure I’m content to sit back and say nothing, but the drama and the angst, I don’t want it.

So I’m saying: Watch and listen and see what happens. Sit here alongside me and we’ll eat popcorn and wait for the fallout. Because it’s coming and it’s not going to be pretty.

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Jaded

by Veronica Foale on January 30, 2011

in On Blogging

Jaded.

I am jaded.

Blogging has changed so quickly that I am left behind, wondering how to swim in this shark tank. When did blogging become about PR deals and not the writing?

Maybe I’m just a bitch.You kids get off my goddamned lawn.

I want more from this. I want my writing to be brilliant. I want fans, across the globe. I want time to write a book, to lose myself in my own fantasy. I want to connect with like-minded people and find more brilliant blogs. To be entrapped in a blog’s story from the moment I start.

I want more.

***

Something happens. Something good, for me, and I float on the happening for weeks. I adore it and then it ends and I am forced back into reality with the screams of my children ringing in my ears.

This is the come down. I knew it was coming, but my head being all fucked up has surprised even me. I want to hibernate, to pull the blankets over my head and refuse to leave my own head.

Unfortunately, this is not how reality works.

***

I want to be bigger than myself.

I want you to want more.

I want my words to flow out of my fingertips and onto the screen with ease. I’m sick of pulling words the way dentists pull teeth.

I want my dissatisfaction to fade away.

I want a lot of things.

***

Tell me, who do you read when you’re feeling dissatisfied? What do you do?

Because whatever I’m doing isn’t working so well.

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