Seanan McGuire (seanan_mcguire) wrote,
Seanan McGuire
seanan_mcguire

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The lines of interaction.

Common wisdom among authorial circles says "do not respond to reviews." I consider this a mantra, and practically have it cross-stitched on my living room wall. Good review? Happiness. Bad review? Sadness. Review which bears no resemblance whatsoever to the book I wrote, leading me to wonder where the reviewer gets their books, since if they have a dimensional portal, I want to borrow it? Bewilderment. But nowhere in there do you find a class of review that comes with "engage reviewer and either look smug or bitch about how they don't understand your genius."

I will respond to reviewers, if we have a relationship, however casual it may be. The majority of the reviews I link to are found by my helpful Google spiders, which skitter around the Internet bringing me things without concern for my feelings. I tell them they're good and feed them lots of flies. Some reviews, however, come to me because the reviewer emails me directly to say "I reviewed your book." In those cases, I feel entirely justified in replying, privately, with "Wow, I'm glad you liked it," or "I'm sorry this wasn't your cup of tea, hopefully the next book will suit you better." Because we're in a private setting, interacting like people, as long as I'm polite, I'm okay.

The lines start to get a little blurry when newer forms of social media come into play. Like Twitter. If someone @'s me, they know I'm going to see their Tweet the next time I check my @replies. That's the culture of the system, which is built on the expectation of/hope for interaction. I don't answer every @reply, but I make an effort to read them all, and answer the majority. So am I responding to a review, or am I sticking to the dominant culture of the platform? What about on Facebook, where people tag to your profile? They know that doing so will send you a notification. Is that an invitation to interact, or is it a sad reality of the system?

Miss Manners never had to deal with being a polite, professional working author in the Internet Age. I think that's why she doesn't have any pointers for certain kinds of behavior, and why she never considers "get a baseball bat" to be the appropriate beginning to a polite response.

So where are the lines for you? What do you think is the boundary for "polite" authorial behavior—and from the other side, what's the boundary for behaving politely toward authors? Inquiring minds want to know.
Tags: contemplation
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Behavior Towards Authors: My Golden Rule of Internet Interaction: the Good Fairy Version

1. Remember that all people you interact with are real people (even if they Are Authors)

2. Remember that real people have real feelings (even Authors, who being artists, I've sadly noticed can trend towards the hypersensitive; most published authors I've interacted with to some degree have toughened up, but by no means all of them have.)

3. Remember that those real feelings can be really hurt.

4. If you wouldn't feel comfortable saying it in front of your mom or your boss or someone you'd like to be your boss, don't say it. Period. Because your mom, your boss, or someone who you'd like to be your boss may very well read it.

I get that this can be hard, given that a lot of people don't seem to get that people who are standing in front of them, breathing the same air and looking them in the eye, are real people with real feelings, so disembodied text must seem more abstract and less "real" still, but it remains the case that anyone--even an author (which rather like college professors and teachers, people REALLY don't seem to get that writers aren't magical typing programs in the sky)--is a real person. Who has real feelings. That doesn't mean you need to suck up but it does mean you should try to be polite.

Behavior By Authors: Alicia's Golden Rule of Internet Interaction: The Lawyer Fairy Version

1. Remember that the internet is forever and ever and ever and ever (especially when...)

2. Remember that anything you say or do online can and will be forwarded to dozens and dozens and dozens of people, recopied, reposted, and cached for the future enjoyment of still others, all of whom will judge you ENTIRELY based on it because they have nothing else to go on (and even if they did, they may not care).

3. Remember that if you wouldn't feel comfortable with your mother, your boss, or someone you'd like to impress reading what you wrote, you probably shouldn't say it.

4. Remember that the only thing people absolutely love more than a hero is to watch that hero take a big, nasty fall so we can point, laugh, and then feel superior.

I think its super cool that Teh Interwebz lets me interact to some degree with authors whose work I really enjoy. But I will probably not enjoy an author anymore if they demonstrate that they're A Jerk, because I'm judgmental like that. And I'm not alone. The flip side of that of course is that if you are a polite dear, I am likely to give something of yours I'm not as crazy about a bit more of a pass, and if you make a simple request of your readers--such as "see this charity thing I am doing? It would be totally awesome if you'd support it."--then I am MUCH, MUCH more likely to do so, because like most people I like to help people I like.

You've always been really good about that, which has earned you Respect in my book.
These are fabulous rules.

I try to be good about things, I really do. I know full well that the Internet is forever, and well. I want to be well-behaved enough that if I have a day where I snap and start screaming, people will forgive me a little more than they otherwise might.
Thank you. And that's an excellent point; people are more likely to forgive someone who acts out of character once or twice than they are someone whose character is just bad.

I spent three months doing my legal internship at a firm that did employment and banking. I divided my time between the two, so I spent, what, six weeks or so in each.

Even in that little time--a tiny snapshot in time for a profession where a single matter can drag on for years or decades--I still saw cases in BOTH categories (employment I expected; banking was a surprise) that involved stuff said on the internet coming out as ammunition, when the speakers thought they were anonymous (or at least speaking in private, or assuming nobody but their buddies would read it even though it wasn't protected), getting dragged through the legal system. It was serious food for thought; I always thought you should be polite online because I was taught to be polite and to respect the impact your words can have (I have often goofed up on this score, but I try), but I didn't fully appreciate just how problematic the net can be for saving EVERYTHING until I spent hours digging up things party opponents said so that their words could be flung back at them in deposition or at trial.
I truly wish more people understood that the Internet is forever, and made an effort not to say things they'd regret.