Why I don't write

The very small number of people who have read this blog with some regularity have probably noticed that there hasn't been much here lately. There are many reasons why, but I thought I would articulate a few (and bear with me: writing is like exercise. If you don't do it much, you don't do it as well).

It seems fitting, this week, to bring up this particular reason: I am tired of writing an anonymous blog. But, it is the only blog I can write. Ergo, if I can only write anonymously, but I am tired of being anonymous, the irresistible force is meeting the immovable object.

Why anonymous? Why not just come out and say who I am? I'll tell you, specifically. For the past 10+ years, I have been cyberstalked by a very persistent guy (he has no problem not concealing his identity, unlike myself). Many years ago, I published one of my first articles. It took awhile, but an online journal editor contacted me and said he was going to publish a rebuttal to my theoretical article, and did I want to respond? I thought this was sort of amusing, at the time. I mean, it was a theoretical article, sort of an exploratory piece. How does one rebut someone's theory? Certainly counter with one of your own; feel free. But a rebuttal?

So, I said, sure, bring it on. The author made some reasonable points, and did posit a theory of his own, but something about the tone of his article bothered me. I could feel the undertone - how dare I, a female, take on this subject? In the midst of attempting to pick apart my theoretical take, there was a sense that I was not really supposed to be writing about this subject at all. But I did my best, in my response, to note that alternative theories were certainly welcome. However, I could not resist pointing out that at least one source he said I had "neglected" to consult had not been published until after my original article appeared. I tried to keep things cordial, if a little cheeky, because that was sort of a goofy mistake on his part, let's face it. The author immediately wanted to publish yet another "rebuttal" further articulating why the premise of my article was "wrong," as he put it in the email the editor received. Maybe sensing trouble, the online editor declined, and suggested alternative possibilities for publication. This prompted a slightly menacing email wherein the author suggested I was a poor scholar who was being "protected" by my "friends" and he was being prevented from pointing out my true lack of merit, or something like that. (For what it's worth, other people disagree. To date, it is the only article I ever published that has been anthologized several times.)

In subsequent years, I blocked him from my Facebook feed, once he found me. Most recently (as in this year) I made the mistake of commenting, very briefly, in an email forum and got a prompt email from him, slightly mellower now, but still suggesting that we "engage in discussion" of his point of view. I deleted the email. And I will not comment in that forum again.

Unlike some other writers who are sometimes physically threatened for daring to write about subjects not considered sufficiently "female", I have not been physically threatened. This person lives a good distance away from me. Mostly I'm just tired. Because I know that if I engage him, I will never be free of him. There is no argument to be won; there would just be endless back and forth about how I am somehow "wrong," and he is somehow "right." Of course, ironically, I do not even buy all of the theoretical arguments I made in that piece years ago, though I still agree with the core of it. And I have not published *any* scholarly writing in a very long time, alas.

One of my colleagues is about to publish a collection of his blog posts as a "for real" book. His posts always bring comment: some trolling, some stupid, but much of it complimentary. He can use his real name. He has enhanced his reputation. I am sure people will buy his book. (I won't. Having helped edit most of the posts, I expect a free copy.) Anyone who does not think that misogyny holds back scholarship, or independent thought, can just read the above story again.

I prefer the word "misogyny", which means hatred of women, as opposed to "sexism," which sort of sounds like a minor problem, not to be taken seriously. In the wake of this week's election, I am fascinated by the commentariat asking our new prez-elect to renounce racism, while his misogyny is once more swept under the rug, except for the keening by a few female columnists. But that is probably fodder or another column that I will not be writing here.

There are other reasons; one of the big ones being I don't think people are really interested in what I have to say. And/or maybe I don't have as much to say as I used to. I don't lately seem to have a burning desire to send my thoughts out into the ether. I used to just do it for myself, and not worry about whether people read it or not. But lately, I do seem to care, and I have nothing to say.

So, for those people who have read these little posts - thanks. Sometimes it felt great to get stuff off of my chest, and if it created some entertainment, I'm happy. Maybe some people learned something. That's nice too. I am not going to delete the blog - it can stay here. Maybe I'll make a contribution again at some point. But there's nothing more to see here for now.