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blogging | Jennifer S. White http://jenniferswhite.com Mon, 03 Oct 2016 18:22:03 +0000 en-US hourly 1 http://jenniferswhite.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/cropped-jennbio-32x32.jpg blogging | Jennifer S. White http://jenniferswhite.com 32 32 62436753 Is It Possible to Be A “Mommy Blogger” Who Doesn’t Write About My Kids? http://jenniferswhite.com/is-it-possible-to-be-a-mommy-blogger-who-doesnt-write-about-my-kids/ http://jenniferswhite.com/is-it-possible-to-be-a-mommy-blogger-who-doesnt-write-about-my-kids/#respond Mon, 03 Oct 2016 18:22:03 +0000 http://jenniferswhite.com/?p=6795 I write about my experiences as a mother without getting into specifics about my children as much as possible, but is it really possible to be a “mommy blogger” without writing about my kids?...

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I write about my experiences as a mother without getting into specifics about my children as much as possible, but is it really possible to be a “mommy blogger” without writing about my kids?

Recently I read an article about a blogger who decided to stop writing about her kids. Completely. It caught my attention because I blog about my life with kids.

I write about my nearly-2-year-old and her just-turned-6 big sister because they take up most of my world. The stresses, happiness and physical needs of life as a mother make up, what feels like, 99.9% of my life. I’d like to say something like “my focus shifted easily towards writing about being a mother to young children,” but the truth is I fought it and continued to write about other aspects of myself, but they continually fell flat. While I am a person outside of being a mother, this is my life right now.

What I don’t want to do is abuse the funny, adorable or stressful ways they are parts of my life by writing stories that aren’t mine to share. Instead, my intention is to explore myself and my life. And I haven’t always written only about being a mother—I haven’t always been one.

I’ve written and published stories about relationships, friendships, families, eating disorders, yoga, ADHD, happiness, and just being a human being. Still, my most probing, heartfelt work—regardless of whether the subject matter was specifically parenting—has been written since becoming a mom, not because the love of my kids changed me—although it has—but because I’ve consciously committed myself to authentic, “real” writing.

I want my girls to grow up, and share, and be themselves without fear or shame. I want to be an example for them of finding joy in who we are, even if we don’t always fit in properly with societal standards; even if it’s true we are imperfect.

It’s important to me that I write carefully about my children. I don’t want to publish—even on my social media accounts—stories that would embarrass them. I try to share from my experience as their mother rather than using their own lives for my words. My stories should be my stories, even if they are inspired by these gorgeous little characters I share my life with.

I afford my husband this same respect. Although he’s a present father, I eliminate him from my stories often. I’m the one choosing to bare myself when I publish, not him, and not our two tiny kids.

But regardless of how hard I try to shield them, my kids are still in my stories. The truth as a “mommy blogger” is it’s impossible to not share at least snippets of my family, even if I fictionalize stories, without including them in some small way. What is possible is to check in with my intentions as a writer.

Why am I sharing this story? Are these 140 characters on Twitter necessary for a quick laugh? Whose expense is my joke at? Mine, or someone else’s? If my goal as a writer is to honestly explore myself and my life, and to make a career from it, then my larger goal should be to accept that my kids won’t always be small, and I won’t always have them as main characters.

I can’t always be a “mommy blogger.”

I want to be a present parent with my kids.

I want to live in the real world before I commit myself to writing about it.

But I also want to transform the ordinary difficulty and constant joy of parenting into words for others in similar situations, so we can read and feel less alone in this typically lonely experience of spending so much time with little people.

If I were to answer my own question it would be “no”—no, it isn’t possible to be a mommy blogger who doesn’t write about my kids. Because of this I need to hold myself accountable for what I choose to put out there.

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8 Tips for Bloggers on Dealing with the Haters. http://jenniferswhite.com/8-tips-for-bloggers-on-dealing-with-the-haters/ http://jenniferswhite.com/8-tips-for-bloggers-on-dealing-with-the-haters/#comments Mon, 02 Nov 2015 13:56:43 +0000 http://jenniferswhite.com/?p=4965 How writers can learn to shake it off. I received a message from a reader asking me, as a fellow blogger, how I handle negative comments on my articles. Since I think this conversation is...

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How writers can learn to shake it off.

I received a message from a reader asking me, as a fellow blogger, how I handle negative comments on my articles. Since I think this conversation is worth talking about with the writing community as a whole, I thought I would share a few of the tips that I sent to her in response.

1. Consider the source you are publishing with.

For example, on my own personal blog I welcome differing opinions, but it’s my space, and in this space I choose not to publish mean-spirited feedback. Frankly, I rarely, if ever, get any though, so this is usually a non-issue. (I think this is because it’s not welcomed.)

On the other hand, if I’m writing for an eco-minded, wellness website, for instance, then my material should fit this website’s crowd. I’m not suggesting that we contort or shape our writing for where we’re sending it, but we do need to be thinking critically about whether websites are a good fit for our material, or not.

Which brings me to those large, highly exposed websites. (This blogger who wrote in was asking this question in reference to a non-U.S. blog that she worked with that’s popular in her country.) These types of sites attract a lot of traffic and, additionally, they attract internet trolls. Don’t waste time on internet trolls. Which leads me to our next suggestion…

2. On having a thick, thin skin.

Developing a thick enough skin to not care about internet trolls (people who want to be negative and enjoy making others upset—yes, it’s a real term), and unnecessarily rude feedback, while maintaining a thin enough skin to still consider an opposing viewpoint’s merit is essential.

Easier said than done. This, in my experience, takes practice. Some of this practice is doing things like…

3. Don’t read all of the comments.

The blogger who messaged me specifically mentioned an article of mine that attracted a lot of feedback (like almost 400 comments). I read the first few, I’ll admit, but then I stopped reading commentary after seeing one man say something like “the Bible says a husband comes first after God.” Wow. Just. Wow.

While I did own up to reading a few comments on this article, I do not read all of the comments on the larger websites I write for because, unfortunately, not everyone is kind. Which leads me to…

4. Not everyone is nice.

This is a harsh truth that is worthwhile to acknowledge, both as a writer and as a human being.

It’s easy to attack via a comments, like on an online medium, because it provides obscured safety. This is made even more troubling when we consider that these attacks are on a writer who boldly has a byline and puts herself out there.

Keeping in mind that not everyone is nice, and that not every relatively anonymous commenter has something worthwhile to say, is an important differentiation from those people who generally disagree. Which takes us to the following tip…

5. Categorize the feedback.

It’s important to consider if any of the feedback was helpful or useful for us as a person or a writer, and the rest—throw it out! Because…

6. You can’t please everyone.

Thank goodness really—the world is diverse. More, the internet provokes opposition easily because of this veil of anonymity as well as the general population that it’s accessible to.

Then, go ahead and…

7. Create more writing.

Take these comments that are upsetting and make new articles from them. I do it all the time.

Often, my next article is created from a comment or feedback I received, and it’s usually not the positive feedback that encourages me to think more, and dig more, and write more. And last, but absolutely not least important is the reality that…

8. Not everyone is kind, but we can be.

I don’t mind making people mad, as long as my viewpoint is worthwhile to share; as long as my thoughts stand up for a group that needs to be heard; as long as there is merit in publishing rather than just journaling this thought.

In other words, do contemplate if the material is useful and, if it is, be as sensitive as possible in how potentially offensive concepts are phrased.

However, only the individual writer can decide if we are alright with not pleasing everyone. I am. Do I like when I feel attacked? No. But I’ve come to realize that if my writing is upsetting someone so much (not trolls, but those who truly disagree) then, in some way, even if it’s someone thoughtful and intelligent (like the blogger who wrote to me), who reads my work and its subsequent comments—I’m getting people to think.

I’m getting people to challenge the boxes they often subconsciously put themselves in—and that’s what I’m trying to do as a writer in nearly all of my work, regardless of subject.

If you have a piece of wisdom that you’ve earned as a blogger on dealing with the haters, I’d love to hear how you learned to shake it off in the comments.

 

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This Is Why I Blog Pictures of My Kids. http://jenniferswhite.com/this-is-why-i-blog-pictures-of-my-kids/ http://jenniferswhite.com/this-is-why-i-blog-pictures-of-my-kids/#respond Sun, 18 Oct 2015 22:35:13 +0000 http://jenniferswhite.com/?p=4811 The yellow leaves practically glow outside the large picture window on the side of our house. The girls’ new teepee sits strategically in a corner that isn’t particularly used; it’s where they go anyways during...

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The yellow leaves practically glow outside the large picture window on the side of our house.

The girls’ new teepee sits strategically in a corner that isn’t particularly used; it’s where they go anyways during the day. I think they go there because the light from this window is so magnificent.

Each morning through it I can see the black of when my baby wakes me up so early, turning into something more grey. Later, like this evening with the new teepee, I see how the brilliant yellow of autumn leaves is lit up from underneath by the setting sun on the green grass that catches its falling golden petals.

My girls play together inside of their new space. I don’t think this former sentence conveys the adorable nature of this “play.”

The baby turned one just two days ago and my oldest is five. In other words, especially as an identical twin, I had no practical intention that they might play, except for in a few years and then, hopefully, again as adults.

Instead, they play peek-a-boo through the teepee’s chevron pink-and-white-patterned window. They unfold their constantly active, tiny girl bodies onto fluffy, brightly colored pillows inside of this fresh-made fortress.

The neon pink and the wooden sticks joined together at the top reflect back to me through the window. I hear one-year-old squeals of laughter and five-year-old, big-sister patience that she didn’t learn from me.

This moment in our lives is so simple.

This space in between celebrating a first birthday only two days ago and the girls first wedding last night—and Monday morning—is made unexpectedly majestic by this addition of a canvas triangle into our tiny family.

My favorite toy as a kid was a teepee from my aunt and uncle.

I can still see the small, black ants running up and down the huge tree trunk that shaded my twin sister and me, when we put it up outside during summer. Then, as weather in Ohio grew cold, the teepee was moved indoors and onto our roughly carpeted playroom. To this day I think this might have been my favorite childhood toy.

Obviously, I’m feeling nostalgic. I celebrated a first birthday and a wedding—a dawning of a family as I explained to my daughter—and I feel in kind of a new moon space in my own. More than this, the silent growing of two children is made too obvious upon sensitive mother reflection.

This photograph of my children makes me feel like I’ve done something wonderful with my life, when all I’ve really done is buy them a tent and put it up in front of a gorgeous window view.

Each moment that I lose my temper or choose something easy to feed them or close my eyes and wish I was momentarily somewhere else is made reasonable through the eyes of this photo—and this is why I photograph my kids and then share it in my blogging and on social media.

My life today was not perfect, despite sharing on Instagram and Facebook this pretty picture. However, I took this picture, more than anything, to remind myself when my days of mothering are difficult, and a little bit too long, that I am doing something right.

Clearly, two girls joyfully playing in a pink-and-white chevron patterned tent are doing okay.

But my life is kind of perfect. I have an earnestly good man to call mine and I have two beautiful daughters. This fact makes my frustrating days actually more challenging—because I know that my life is good.

Yet the yellow leaves fall and kids grow up. Each year, the same thing happens.

This pink teepee might not cast the same reflection into my living room next winter—although if my own childhood infatuation is in any way dictating, it very well might.

But I take these photographs so that I can retrieve the words later on that weren’t used when I was temporarily paused within the moment. They take the place of my little notebook and pen, where I jot down thoughts for later—and at least I have a picture of my family.

These pictures take the place of tears I didn’t let out at my joy and deep sadness of my kids growing and they show in one small frame a millimeter of the emotion I felt.

And I share them graciously with others—these pieces of my heart. My kids.

And the yellow leaves are still surrounded by green and the reflection of the teepee has lost its ethereal appeal and now the television sounds from my oldest daughter and the kitchen, dinner-making sounds of my husband take over—once again, real life settles into my tissues.

And that space that a photograph holds anchors me to where I am. And where I am is mothering two happy, intense kids and partnering with a man who I barely get to hold adult conversations with.

Where I am is some perverse heaven on earth.

Where my husband is my friend without enough benefits and I’m responsible for two other human beings.

But the leaves are pretty this fall—so there’s that.

 

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Not Everything Needs to Be Published. http://jenniferswhite.com/not-everything-needs-to-be-published/ http://jenniferswhite.com/not-everything-needs-to-be-published/#comments Fri, 20 Feb 2015 14:31:39 +0000 http://jenniferswhite.com/?p=3305 I’ve felt a little sorry for myself as a writer lately. I have grand ideas and vision, but I’m, essentially, in full-on mommy-mode; when writing does and should come second. This difficult balancing act...

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I’ve felt a little sorry for myself as a writer lately.

I have grand ideas and vision, but I’m, essentially, in full-on mommy-mode; when writing does and should come second.

This difficult balancing act of mother and passionate writer has had me questioning the real reasons for why I write.

I write because I can’t not write. I love blogging—truly I do. I love connecting with other writers, and with readers, and I feel purposeful when I receive feedback that my words gave life to someone else’s feelings—someone I’ve never met in real life—or that my words gave another new mom motivation to practice yoga that day, for example.

But we don’t write for recognition or popularity or to have made it on the cover of a particular website—although sometimes it feels like this is what a real writer does; who a real writer is.

No, we write because we have no choice.

I was talking with my husband a few weeks ago about how the internet, Instagram, blogging, etc seems to be changing the intention for many writers.

Some writers forget that true art exists because the artist had no choice but to create it—many of our most famous works achieved their highest success after the artist was long gone from this world.

Because truly great art is not made for the world. It’s made because one human heart nurtured an idea, and let it grow and grow, until it finally had no choice but to be birthed.

Actually, this is another reason why many blogs would be better if the writer had privately journaled the idea for personal contemplation before bringing it out in published form.

I know many writers, myself included, who still use pens and paper to write with. This is a great way to really grab a thought before it’s put up live online, and, really, before anything is out there and into the world forever, it’s best for the author to deeply contemplate why this should be published in the first place.

Not everything needs to be published.

That overly personal article about sex? It might have been better off quietly shared and sent as a love letter to that one special muse.

That article discussing how poor of a parent someone’s ex-spouse is? Yeah, that’s not exactly great for the kids to have this information available for anyone and their own mother to read.

So why do we write and then share with the world at large? Or, rather, why should we?

We write because we must. We write because we have no choice. We write compulsively—on the side of the road when a blazing idea strikes or in the middle of the night when we awake with a wonderful thought. However, we publish because an idea would benefit the world at large, whether in simple art form because of poetic beauty, or because it’s full of helpful life experiences that could do wonders if sent out as little love notes all over the world.

But the world these days seems to cry out for drama and fighting and contrast.

How much of what is published and then actually does well, does so because of an incredibly brutal title or almost offensive accompanying photograph? A whole hell of a lot of it, that’s what.

And, yes, we can say that people are clicking on this shit and so it’s our own faults; fair, fair—to a point.

Because, as true writers, we need to access our own intentions. In other words, we need to claim responsibility and seek out publications that are looking for real art and words of real benefit and not click-bait crap. While this is not to say that click-bait crap will go away, we, as deliberate writers, are the ones with the words.

There is power in words.

Words can hurt—words can also heal.

Words can shape young minds, words can instigate positive life changes, and words can make our hearts beat faster from their sheer ferocity.

In short, a real writer is not someone who has so many followers on Twitter or who has so many articles published in various online magazines. No, a real writer is someone who leaks their soul out through fingertips and onto pages—and a great writer, I would argue at least, is someone who knows when to click “publish” and when to close the book and put the pen down, until the next time the right words call.

 

Photo: Flickr/content writer.

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