Velveteen Mind

The one where I go Jack-Jack on Miss Musing.

Yeesh.  I had changed my mind about writing about this today, but a quick glance at my incoming traffic told me that hundreds of you are poking around by way of The Jet Set, apparently by way of cjane enjoy it.

What follows is my explanation, as briefly as I can (which will be something because, new readers, I don’t do brief very well), as to how an unknown-to-me blogger turned me into Jack Jack from The Incredibles this Saturday.

(hmmmm, short…  short…  succinct…  to the point…  do that how?…)

I know!  We’ll make it like a play!  Oh yeah, this will be fun.  Ditch the prose and we’re in action.

***

Aaaaannd…  Action!

(open on Saturday morning when I know better than to check my email…)

Megan:  at her computer opening email expectantly… Surely I’ll have heard from Matt Lauer today…

Megan’s email:  You’ve been PWNED!  (okay, I’m not even that cool and had to look the term up to make sure I was using it correctly.  I can’t even pretend.)

Megan:  Say what?

email from Onnuh:  You’ve been plagiarized by Miss Musing.  Here are her posts and here is your post that she stole.

Megan:  exhaling wearily because I get weird spam sometimes and so don’t bother to click the links

email from Azucar:  You’ve been plagiarized by Miss Musing.  Here are her posts and here is your post that she stole.

Megan:  Oh no she di’int!

Megan clicks on the links.  Megan falls out of her chair.

On the computer screen, the audience sees Miss Musing’s posts:

Megan frowns but thinks maybe it’s only a couple of lines… 

She opens the next post:

Megan switches tabs to her own post and turns bright red and possibly grows horns as she appears to morph into Jack Jack at the end of The Incredibles, fireball turned lead weight turned devil:

Megan:  Oh. no. she. did. not.

Aaaaaaand….  Scene!

***

That, folks, is not scraping.  That’s not copying and pasting a bit of text along with a link to the original work. 

That is plagiarism.

Miss Musing took what I wrote and turned it into two posts of her own.  Not as an inspiration, but literally took the actual words and fit them into her own post.  The second post, by the way, I am near positive she completely fabricated given the “plot” of my story of seeing a man in the coffee shop I thought I recognized, blah blah blah.

What is all the more infuriating is that she had over 500 subscribers.  Hundreds of followers on her Google Friend Connect.  Hundreds of twitter followers.  And none of her readers had any idea.

The comments!  You can read the comments for both posts in the full screengrabs by clicking on the appropriate cropped image above.  The comments really kill me.  Her readers simply had no idea.

Were you a reader of Miss Musing?  Do you feel duped?  You should.  And not just because she stole at least one post of mine.

She had done this before.  And was continuing to do it.

Long story short (you are laughing, aren’t you?), she had plagiarized cjane before and had been caught.  Azucar from The Jet Set wrote a post about the entire debacle (with possibly the most clever title ever), which inspired her incredibly resourceful readers to do a bit of sleuthing.  The Sherlock Award most certainly goes to Onnuh, who is the Jet Set reader that found the Miss Musing posts plagiarizing me and others. 

I think sweet Azucar and Onnuh thought I would give Miss Musing some kind of warning.  Perhaps I come off as someone that wouldn’t, say, turn into a vigilante and rally twitter against plagiarism?

Now that I think of it, if I’m like Jack-Jack (seemingly powerless, yet able to turn into a bedeviled fireball right before your eyes), then Miss Musing is like Syndrome:  Not a real superhero, nay blogger, but rather an insecure sidekick-wannabe replicating the powers of those around her.  Manufacturing them in such a way that her onlookers have no idea that it is all a rouse. 

Miss Musing’s remote control wrist cuff powers were her abilities to use “cut and paste.”

Until, that is, Jack-Jack went all devil on Syndrome’s ass, leading to the fake superhero’s ultimate demise.

Look, I’m not saying we are superheroes.  Bear with me here.  I’m trying to have a little fun and needed an excuse to use these photos…  which I stole from Google Images, which means I stole from somewhere else.  The difference is that I’m linking.  Giving credit.  Not claiming to have created these images and directing you to exactly where I found them.

That being said, we can not allow for plagiarism. 

In many cases, when I find my work on someone else’s site with no credit given, I simply give them a polite warning.  Often, it’s a naive new blogger and they honestly didn’t know better.  Sometimes it is a scraper (a site that simply copies posts based around a given keyword), but I still give them a warning before I report them to their blog host for removal.

This time, given that Miss Musing had not only been given warning on earlier plagiarism examples but was continuing her plagiarism against an increasing number of bloggers, I gave no warning.  I immediately reported her to Blogger and then spread the word on twitter.

Why twitter?  Because if she chose to simply delete the posts, nothing would stop her from continuing her stealing and her readers would never know. 

Simply deleting the posts and possibly apologizing wouldn’t be good enough this time, as her empty apology to cjane had clearly demonstrated that she had no intention of stopping. 

And let’s be honest, it is stealing.

So what did I want to happen as a result of my going Jack-Jack?  Ultimately, I wanted the posts removed, if not her blog, yes.  But more than anything else, I wanted her readers to know what she had done to them.  Girl had a lot of readers.  She had violated their trust and trust is just about all we have to work with online.

Aside from talent.  But who needs talent when you can cut and paste?!

So what did happen?  The details are unclear, but what I do have is a cliffhanger of an ending to our little play:

***

Enter Megan after a long Saturday at the Crawfish Festival and Family Fair with her family where she didn’t give a single thought to Miss Musing:

Megan opens her email.

Megan’s email:  Oh no you di’int!  Miss Musing is gone!  Her blog has been removed and her twitter account is deleted.

Megan’s twitter:

To which Megan responds:

Laptop closes.  The end.

***

Except that obviously, it isn’t the end.  We are left with all kinds of questions regarding how we can protect ourselves against the Miss Musing’s of the Internet.  And what is to stop her from doing it again on a new blog?  To you?

What this post was going to be about was just that:  How do we protect our work online?  But that brevity thing, I’ve apparently also gone Jack-Jack on that. 

So next time I write about this it will be about going Violet on our blogs and creating an invisible yet impenetrable-as we-can-make-it bubble around our work.

In the meantime, a huge thanks to The Jet Set and Onnuh for bringing this to my attention. 

And potential plagiarizers?  Maybe don’t mess with me.  Or my friends.  And apparently definitely not cjane because, wow, her readers really like her.

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In the Absence of a Sarcasm Font: Audioblogging

{Audioblog} Listen to or Download 'In the Absence of a Sarcasm Font' read by the author

We recently published a post at Blog Nosh Magazine that suggested the word "sarcasticate" be added to our vernacular.  "Sarcasticate" would be a verb and it would mean "to make something sarcastic" as applicable to writing text. 

"You see, I can make things bold. I can italicize. I can underline. I can even strikethrough. But, I can’t sarcasticate."

Gone will be the days in which people misunderstand your tone of voice when reading your brilliant writing! 

The Nerdist suggested a special font for sarcasm, after a couple of sticks-in-the-mud griped about a recent Wired article of his:

"I think both gentlemen failed to grasp the tongue-in-cheekity of it all. This is why there should be a font for sarcasm."

Hell.  yes.  Ditto.  Amen.

He went on to suggest that allowing such vocal readers to complain probably saves random strangers from being gunned down in the park.  "Gripes Not Snipes, I always say."  The Nerdist and The Bloggess should get together, is all I'm saying.

But unless Chris Hardwick figures out how to get more than just free gadgets out of all of these tech-gurus he knows, we won't be getting a font for sarcasm any time soon and I'm sick of either explaining myself or becoming a better writer.  Humpf.

That leaves us back where we started, with the burden of conveying tone remaining squarely on our shoulders, whispering into our ears, "No one is going to read that in the high-pitched nasally whine you are imagining.  Try harder.  Devices!  Devices, I tell you!"

Writing devices.  All of the little tricks of the trade that we use to convey tone.  You know...  ellipses... 

Blank space.

ALL CAPS!

wordssmushedtogethertoconveyimpatienceorrambling

Um's and er's and pfft's built into our text to help pace the reader.

Yeah, uh...  no.  kthanxbye

Despite our best attempts, we all still end up with comments that take us off guard with their level of misunderstanding.  Those "are they serious?" comments that make you think that someone involved in this equation must have been reading something other than what you wrote because forchrissakes that's not what you meant!

This, people, is why my posts are so damn long.  I try to cover every possible angle, anticipate every possible interpretation and conclusion and then address it before you force me to mutter, "But that's not what I'm saying" or "Yes, I already knew that but it was redundant to spell it out."

Then I don't end up with any comments because there's nothing left to say.  Crap.

(insert ;) emoticon, which is yet another device meant to convey that I'm yanking your chain but that I really hate to use in blogging because are we twelve?)

So...  in the absence of the sarcasm font and therefore the ability to sarcasticate, I have decided to start cheating: 

I'm adding audioblog versions of my posts!

A huge fan of audiobooks, I'm totally putting my melodrama hat on for you.

Oh yes, dear readers-come-listeners, you can now listen to my breathless tones as I read my posts to you live!  Well, -ish. 

There is currently a delay of about a day before I get the audioblog versions posted because I tend to furiously type and hit publish all within the same twenty minute period.  I've heard I could save things to "draft" until the audio version is done, but I've also heard that you shouldn't send emails when you are angry.  Or drunk.  Now, where is the fun in that?  Delayed gratification.  Pfft.  Maybe for you, but clearly not for me.

I'm also working on an easy link so that you can subscribe to my audioblogs via iTunes, but that takes some planning and I think we've already established my take on that.  I'll get back to you.

In the meantime, I've recorded some of my favorite posts and would love your feedback.  For instance, is anyone even going to listen to them?  Yeah, I'm thinking that would be a good place to start.

On the downside, I can't find anyone else that is doing audio versions of their blog posts, so I don't know how mine compare.  On the upside, I can't find anyone else pretending to be an audiobook performer, so I don't know how mine compare.

Posts with audio versions, so far:

I Am a Have but I Happen to Have Not

Hierarchy of Suffering. Who wins?

Gravel Paves the Road to The White House

The Trouble with Pies

Coffee Cup Lipstick

I Own This

iPod Identity

Be warned that I tried to read them more slowly than I speak so that you can actually follow along in the car (or wherever; that's your business) and I also apparently didn't find it necessary to stick entirely to script.  Before I do any more, let me know if anything doesn't work...  though if you just can't get them to play at all, I probably can't help you.  Gripes not snipes, people.  Gripes not snipes.

Most importantly, I have to say that reading what was written to be read silently was actually more challenging than I expected. 

All of those devices I spoke of earlier?  Yeah, just try to read a strikethrough out loud.  Jesus.  Good Lord.  Man.

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I Own This

Listen to or Download 'I Own This' read by the author

"If you can't make it work at home, why will it work in a studio?"

"You are unreliable."

"You don't even stand a chance."

Two of the above were uttered by me, one by a reader.  Care to guess which?

~~~

As so many of us are taking personal inventories with the coming of the new year, mulling resolutions and setting goals, I am laying claim to what is mine.  I'm calling my life what it is and owning every bit of it.  And I'm letting you in on the game.

"If you can't make it work at home, why will it work in a studio?"  That one was me, hovering at the precipice of commitment and fingering my label maker as I tried to decide the ultimate question, as of late:  Am I a writer?

I have been many things these seemingly long 32 years, from a real estate investor to a psych ward babysitter to a reading tutor to a reluctant refugee and so forth.  The one constant has been writing.  Diaries since the age of twelve, amassing dozens of heavy journals, until Hurricane Katrina forced me to consider another venue in blogging.

The introduction of a tangible audience changed everything.

The tendrils that stretched out from this tiny bit of Internet found themselves interlaced with "real" writers and publishers and everything in between, opening my eyes to possibilities.  Options that were always right there, albeit veiled.

With the possibilities came opportunities and consequent responsibilities.  Responsibilities that butted heads with the type that require diaper changes and unloading of the dishwasher.  I quickly became a master of the dropped ball.

Does the fact that I could not seem to juggle all of my responsibilities at home with the opportunities in my path make me a failure?  Is it a sign of weakness that I acknowledged that I don't have the diligence to work exclusively from home?  That I truly do need the room and privacy to spread out and focus?

If I wanted it badly enough, couldn't I write and publish and run home-based business ventures from, say, home?

Damn it.

What makes being a writer and a mother seem to necessitate that they happen simultaneously in the same space, else I reveal inadequacies in both?

I chose to cede this battle to the label makers.  For if I were to be a "writer," I would have to own some "weaknesses."  My weakness is time management and organization in the face of a home brimming with life.  So be it.

I need this office.  I'll prove that to you, if you give me the chance.

I will own this risk.  I will define this opportunity.  I am this.

~~~

"You are unreliable."  Hmmmm.  Yes, well, my.

That was a reader. 

First, I know this.  I own this.  Second, ouch.

I share that virtual flinch with you because this process will not be one without rejection and criticism.  I need to develop thicker skin and the best way I can figure to do that is to develop transparent skin.

I have been unreliable regarding certain aspects of my life. 

But I'm working on it.  Refer back to quote number one.

~~~

Which leaves us with the final quote, attributable only to me:

"You don't even stand a chance."

It is one thing to own who I am, own my decisions, own my mistakes.  It is quite another to place my fate into the hands of others and do so with hope.

Deep breath...  Hope.  Hope means vulnerability and vulnerability seems to be the last thing I want on my agenda when I am trying so hard to foster confidence.

Yet, here's to hoping, as I proudly announce that Velveteen Mind made it to the finals of the 2008 Weblog Awards for Best Diarist!

Those diaries that I began in middle school, the ones that graduated to leather-bound books in college, the diaries packed mindfully into boxes for our move to the beach, those same diaries that now sleep with the fishes of the Gulf of Mexico...  they have brought me here.  I am a diarist.

I am a diarist that is taking a deep breath and being so bold as to call herself a writer.  Because you let me.

And I need your vote.

Will winning Best Diarist against incredibly stiff competition change anything?  No.  But I'm going to try because I'm curious.  I'm going to try because there is nothing wrong with trying to make the most of the time we are given, to take risks and to dream out loud.  To try and not be afraid.  To try... and let the world see you trying. 

This is me trying.  Trying to own what I want, one small step at a time.  Fine, one virtual beauty contest at a time, butt cheeks clenched in fear that there will be a swimsuit competition, but try nonetheless.

Please vote for Velveteen Mind for Best Diarist at the 2008 Weblog Awards.  You can vote once every 24 hours in each category, so vote every day if the whim takes you. 

Because my new diary includes you and, stunningly, your opinion.  Which makes me vulnerable and humble and intent on remaining as open and honest as you'll accept.

Amazing where one spiral-bound flamingo diary in the hands of a twelve year old will take you.

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Debunking, Defusing, and Demystifying the Big Name Blogger; Mommy or Otherwise. And Delurking You.

"I feel out of my depth."

"I know I'll feel overwhelmed."

"This is way out of my league."

"I am so intimidated by this group, but..."

These are just a handful of the emails I have received regarding RSVPing for The People's Party, a pre-BlogHer party I am co-hosting with a handful of bloggers the night before the BlogHer conference at the Westin St. Francis in San Francisco this year. 

Because we need to keep loose numbers on how many drinks and goodies our sponsors need to provide, we have asked you all to RSVP if you think you'll be able to come.  That's the customary purpose of an RSVP, but some of you seem to think that we have chosen to use it as a torture device and have been hesitant (popular word:  intimidated) to even leave a comment or email that says, "I'll be there."

Lord knows what you think the actual party is going to be like...  Spotlights at the ready to point out your every flaw...  Live rankings of everyone's blog stats projected on the wall over the bar...  Buckets of pig's blood dangling from the rafters a la Carrie...

Well, we will require you to log into FeedBurner to verify that you have at least 500 subscribers to your blog before you are allowed to enter, now that I think of it.  Sucks for you blogging losers.

Okay, that was a joke. 

The People's Party is just that:  a party for the people by the people, because that is all any of us are.  Seriously.  No one should feel left out or not cool enough or not popular enough or not enough enough.

Because, enough already.

You know The Bloggess?  She is hilarious, right?  Almost intimidatingly hilarious.  But you know what?  She's not buying the hype for a second.  She knows that at the end of the day, she's just a woman with a foul mouth, a decadent mind, and access to the Internet. 

She is a lot like you.  Only with less censoring.  And possibly less underwear.

She wants to meet you.  And, better yet, she is just as nervous about meeting you as you are about meeting her. 

Now swap "The Bloggess" with any other big-name blogger and you end up with the exact same scenario.  Possibly fewer references to "vaginas" and "ninjas" and "vagina ninjas" and "ninja vaginas," but you get the point.

If I have learned anything from planning this party it is that "Internet Celebrity" is all of the following :

1. Perception.
2. A fluke.
3. Fleeting.
4. Rampant.

None of the above are a reflection of my co-hosts, as this lesson is simply a result of the entire process as a whole.  Mostly a result of being exposed to more opinions and perceptions regarding "celebrity" than I have ever been exposed to before.

What makes a "Big Name Blogger" is not necessarily based on merit.  It is occasionally just the result of sticking it out and being at the right place at the right time.   It is sometimes based on hard work.  It is often not deserved.  Or if it once was, it is no longer.  It is the ultimate contradiction in terms.

Simply put:  It is meaningless and often holds little real value.

It is all perception.  And that is up to us.

However, being a successful and popular blogger is something in which I know we are all interested, which explains some of the "celebrity" fascination that extends to bloggers.  The most popular link on my Mommybloggers: The Resource page?  How to be a Popular Mommyblogger by A Mommy Story.

Wanting to grow your audience and expand your reach is healthy.  Boasting a large readership is a good thing because it opens you up to more opinions and feedback, which helps you grow your own voice.  However, when you begin to think of "popularity" in terms of the "cool kids table," you lose me.

We give the concept of cliques power that they do not deserve.  After BlogHer last year, the number one complaint I heard was that it felt like high school.  That the cool bloggers hung out with the cool bloggers and the newbies hung out with the newbies.  That "cuteness" came into play, whereas it doesn't usually factor online.  Friendships through blogs did not always translate in real life.

People you thought you would hang with shunned you from the "cool kids table."

Enough, already.

After we announced the party, I received a lot of comments along the lines of, "I had no idea you hung with the big girls" or "How did you get in with them?" 

First of all, I am a big girl.  Second of all, I let them in with me. 

And you are, too.  And you should, too.

It didn't occur to me that I might not be cool enough.  That my traffic statistics might not be high enough.  That I might not be popular enough.  So I just did it.

The imaginary boundaries placed around cliques?  I figure, if my son can't see them, I shouldn't, either.

And now my blog name is on a gajillion badges on a spajillion blogs, right along with Oh, the Joys! and motherbumper and One Plus Two and IzzyMom and, yes, The Bloggess.  People at Parents Magazine's GoodyBlog know who I am.  People at Sprout® and PBS know who I am. 

People know who I am because I know who I am.

I'm a mom who writes her blog mostly in her underwear.  With a sink full of dirty dishes and piles of laundry staring at her from her peripheral vision.  I'm a blogger who puts on a good show, but whose numbers followed the fancy facade she put up for the world to ponder.  I'm a blogging mother that wanted and needed a way to reach out, get some things off my chest, and connect.

And I'm just like you.

Robin from Pensieve left a comment on my post about being interviewed by NBC Nightly News for msnbc.com (and my subsequent decision that I should be on the Today Show kissing with Matt Lauer) that said, "If 1/10 of Megan-the-blogger translates to Megan-live-and-in-person? The ratings would soar off the charts."

Megan-live-and-in-person is exactly like Megan-the-blogger.  Except with more pants and poorer spelling.

Want to meet me?  Come to The People's Party the night before BlogHer in San Francisco.  We are right below the newbie party that BlogHer is throwing, so you can float back and forth.  We'll have drinks and goodies and lots of compliments and questions and interest in meeting you.

And we'd love for you to RSVP so we can be sure to have enough of all that goodness, all for you.  Because you?  You are our people.

And me?  Well, I like to think that I'm your people.  Regardless of whether or not you are going to BlogHer.  Regardless of whether or not you are a mom.  Regardless.

Now, how about you stop lurking (reading a blog and never commenting) and take this second to connect with me. 

You.  Delurk.  Now.  Leave a comment.  Connect with a not-so-Big-Name-Blogger that may or may not be wearing pants right now.

...........................

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I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.

Rain is tapping at my window on this lovely Sunday morning.  The air smells clean.  My mind is clear.  And I am thinking of you.  Our day has yet to begin, so I enjoy this luxury.

More specifically, I am thinking of the subject of accessibility.

Most specifically, I am pondering my email inbox and this lovely blog's comments sections (tongue firmly planted in cheek, thank you) and I would like to ask you a question:

Do you, as bloggers, reply to comments via email or within the comments section itself or both?

Generally speaking.  I know there are exceptions to either preference.

I used to email everyone back, however I felt it made it look like I ignored my comments.  Then I tried responding with comments of my own on specific posts, but that was just messy.  Plus, I rarely go back to see if anyone has replied to comments I leave on other blogs.

Finally, I tried responding to comments with comments of my own and then emailed those commenters to check for the published reply.

Yeah.  Um, no.  That was crazy.  Though probably the most effective.

ProBlogger has a great article on accessibility as a blogger, by the way.  But it still left me with questions.  That's why I am coming to you.

For reasons that I will gladly share with you soon, I have been discussing the topic of iconic bloggers lately with a handful of fairly iconic blogger friends.  The fact that I have access to these people is both laughable and a result of my not thinking of them as "iconic." 

What never fails is that the "big name blogger" with whom I am speaking always thinks that one of the other "big name bloggers" with whom I am speaking is the real deal, while they are just a fraud to be outed as such at the next turn.

Celebrity is perception.  Online celebrity is virtual perception. 

All of it is fleeting.  All of it is surreal.  All of it is laughable.

We would do well by ourselves to laugh.  We would do well by ourselves to let it go.  We would do well by ourselves to just keep writing...  and reading...  and sharing.

Which brings me back to the notion of accessibility.  I am a mom, at home with my boys, reaching out and releasing some brain waves through the internet.  I tend to talk to you about non-poop-related stuff because I live poop-related stuff.    Rather, I talk to you about the stuff that I can not talk to my toddlers about.  Or, at least, I talk to you about stuff about which I get unsatisfactory responses from my toddlers.

But occasionally I wonder if you feel like I'm talking at you rather than with you.  Because of the comments question I asked above. 

You see...

I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.

I am the walrus.

My son would then ask, "So, what color are you?  What do you eat?  Do you go to school?  Do you like Buzz Lightyear?  Can you tell me a story?"

Purple.  Apricots.  Yes.  Absolutely.  Always.

But I would also like to hear your response. 

Do you get caught up in the "celebrity" status of some bloggers and feel like you wouldn't be noticed if you did comment?  Do you inadvertently appear to be a blog-snob yourself because you have yet to master the art of replying to comments?

What defines "accessibility" when it comes to bloggers?

How accessible are you?  How do you respond to comments?

Am I taking these questions too seriously?  Do you even care?

If you are not a blogger, I am quite sure you do not care.  In which case, my apologies.  We are quite full of ourselves and our minutiae, no?

Goo goo g'joob.

...........................

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