A current view of blogging (also: dreadfully introspective)
I enjoyed this article by former Gawker editor Emily Gould, about how she “overshared” on her various blogs and made herself and the people around her feel exposed. It’s also about our need to blog and share about ourselves, which isn’t exactly a new topic but still a good read.
Anyway, I’m linking to it because I’ve been trying in the past year or so not to overshare anymore. I know you might find that unlikely, considering how I talked about Chris’ brain tumor (which, in his opinion, was oversharing) and a hell of a lot of relationship issues. But I try not to write about my job anymore (in fact, I’m not even sure if any of you know what I do here in Prague), largely because I’m pretty content but also because it doesn’t feel appropriate.
I’m still oversharing, though, to be sure. But now I spread it out onto Facebook and Flickr. It’s not as neat and tidy as it used to be, and I often forget that you fine LJ folks still haven’t seen a photo of Chris or anything recent of me, because I’m still uploading them as much as I ever did. They just don’t make it onto LiveJournal, because that requires me to write and I’m faced with the possibility of oversharing. Uploading and captioning photos just doesn’t seem as personal as writing about my thoughts and feelings. And so I do it less.
But I was also thinking that blogging about something too soon inhibits my ability to twist the facts about it later. Not to lie, per se, but to pick and choose what I want people to know. One of my friends in high school once said to me, “Kate, you have this ability to not tell the whole truth,” and I do. In arguments, I might get called a liar, but I can always respond with, “No, no, I never said that--I said this.” My “this” implies “that,” to be sure, but doesn’t require an outright lie. Lying by omission, maybe.
Just yesterday, as I was leaving the metro station on my way home from work, I was thinking about how someone I know might hide the fact that his current job description sounds a little demeaning. And I found the proper phrase for it-a phrase that wasn’t a lie but wouldn’t reveal the current profession. I’m not talking about a euphemism, but a way to make it sound as though he still worked at a former, more socially acceptable job but not actually saying that outright (that would be lying).
Another example could be how I have described meeting Chris. I will tell you all now that I met him on Facebook, but I hate the stigma attached to that. If I wanted to twist the facts, I would simply say that he and I first met when he was in Prague. This is entirely true, although it omits that this was our first meeting “in person.”
It might be deceitful, but it also manages to protect me.
Why I’m sharing this now, aside from the above link, is because I just made a new acquaintance, who is so completely fascinating to me that I’ve wanted to blog about every interaction we’ve had (okay, there have only been a handful, but still). But I don’t want to do that yet because I am afraid of oversharing, which carries with it the obvious TMI defect and also threatens my fact twisting.
It’s as if I’ve reduced my options to shameless attention whoring and lying to make myself look better. Except I’d like to see my choice as an attempt to make my life more interesting and keep some of those experiences just for me. It would seem I’ve chosen the latter. But those eventual tell-all memoirs that every blogger dreams about writing doesn’t rule out the former.
Anyway, I’m linking to it because I’ve been trying in the past year or so not to overshare anymore. I know you might find that unlikely, considering how I talked about Chris’ brain tumor (which, in his opinion, was oversharing) and a hell of a lot of relationship issues. But I try not to write about my job anymore (in fact, I’m not even sure if any of you know what I do here in Prague), largely because I’m pretty content but also because it doesn’t feel appropriate.
I’m still oversharing, though, to be sure. But now I spread it out onto Facebook and Flickr. It’s not as neat and tidy as it used to be, and I often forget that you fine LJ folks still haven’t seen a photo of Chris or anything recent of me, because I’m still uploading them as much as I ever did. They just don’t make it onto LiveJournal, because that requires me to write and I’m faced with the possibility of oversharing. Uploading and captioning photos just doesn’t seem as personal as writing about my thoughts and feelings. And so I do it less.
But I was also thinking that blogging about something too soon inhibits my ability to twist the facts about it later. Not to lie, per se, but to pick and choose what I want people to know. One of my friends in high school once said to me, “Kate, you have this ability to not tell the whole truth,” and I do. In arguments, I might get called a liar, but I can always respond with, “No, no, I never said that--I said this.” My “this” implies “that,” to be sure, but doesn’t require an outright lie. Lying by omission, maybe.
Just yesterday, as I was leaving the metro station on my way home from work, I was thinking about how someone I know might hide the fact that his current job description sounds a little demeaning. And I found the proper phrase for it-a phrase that wasn’t a lie but wouldn’t reveal the current profession. I’m not talking about a euphemism, but a way to make it sound as though he still worked at a former, more socially acceptable job but not actually saying that outright (that would be lying).
Another example could be how I have described meeting Chris. I will tell you all now that I met him on Facebook, but I hate the stigma attached to that. If I wanted to twist the facts, I would simply say that he and I first met when he was in Prague. This is entirely true, although it omits that this was our first meeting “in person.”
It might be deceitful, but it also manages to protect me.
Why I’m sharing this now, aside from the above link, is because I just made a new acquaintance, who is so completely fascinating to me that I’ve wanted to blog about every interaction we’ve had (okay, there have only been a handful, but still). But I don’t want to do that yet because I am afraid of oversharing, which carries with it the obvious TMI defect and also threatens my fact twisting.
It’s as if I’ve reduced my options to shameless attention whoring and lying to make myself look better. Except I’d like to see my choice as an attempt to make my life more interesting and keep some of those experiences just for me. It would seem I’ve chosen the latter. But those eventual tell-all memoirs that every blogger dreams about writing doesn’t rule out the former.