Moderation is Key

I am a moderator on a writers' forum. There are still over 8,000 members at My Writers Circle but many of them are not active.

I understand those who were once active and don't participate at the moment, waiting for the right opportunity to jump in once again. I have no idea why so many people go to the trouble of signing up for the forum and never post even one thing. I see no benefit to being a member if you never use the membership.

But there are many who do participate on a daily basis. Many of them are honing skills and not yet published at all. Some are published in a variety of places but all without pay. I fit into that category. And some are already published for pay in a variety of places.

So there is a mix of people. Some are able to help and some are in dire need of the advice and helpful hints available. Mostly it works out quite well. Most of the members are cordial and do their best to help one another. Not all advice is sound, mirroring the real world.

Some days my moderating is an easy job. I just stroll through the boards and make sure all is going smoothly. I offer help where I can. Since I'm a grammar fiend, I generally feel comfortable with those aspects of critique. Since I'm totally lost with the show and tell aspect of fiction, I generally leave that alone. I've learned to never, ever critique some people's work since I just irritate them all to hell and back. So, I don't bother and if they misuse words and butcher the grammar, perhaps some other soul will mosey past and help them out. Or they can just get their writing dismissed at a publisher's desk.

I have noticed something over the last several months. As the economy continues to nosedive, so goes manners and tact. There seems to be a direct correlation between job security and personal security as evidenced by graceful demeanor.

I've watched our once solid nest egg dwindle from ostrich size to robin size and hope I never have to witness the hummingbird size. But I might. And it makes me crankier. I'm less patient with anyone and everyone. However, before I hit the send button, I try to remember the person or people who will read my words did not have anything to do with the current market crash.

And I have the blue stars indicative of my 'status' as a moderator. Even though I'm no better at anything than before I got the blue stars, since they appeared, I've gained a certain luster. I stand out with the stars, even though it's really not more than a couple extra buttons at my disposal.

I've seen people who are gracious get all unglued over the silliest of things. I've seen people who are posturing behind made up names, looking for a fight. And we are writers. We are all (okay, not all) very good with words. It is our stock in trade, our ammunition of choice. We can lob volleys of explosive verbiage and knock out an enemy across the globe. Except, here on a writers' forum, the opponent is equally armed.

And the death toll keeps rising. What should be a difference of opinion easily worked out (since everyone is so good with words and should understand compromise and negotiation) turns into carnage. On the forum, deregistered users turn from a blue name with a link to other pages, into a black name with the telltale Guest under their last chosen screen name.

The forum is coming up with far too many Guests where once there was Hero Member or something nice, even Newbie looks better.

I feel like a failure. I'm the one who is supposed to be moderating the people – who do not HAVE to be adults but mostly are. I know I'm good with words. But I'm no longer effective. I have no idea how to respond to the hostilities by supposedly sane adults. They are arguing over ideas, all acceptable ideas, like it is the last chance to protect their mothers from death – a horrible lingering death. They have lost their minds.

And we keep losing members.  

Society today

Is the field of psychology a function of society?

I'm reading about how children are scared for life if an authority figure raises a voice in anger toward them. There goes the planet.

But really. There is a contingency stating yelling at children irreparably harms them. Forever. They are lessened by the 'violence' of the act. They point to the psychology contingent saying they have proved this.

I've been watching some You Tube clips and I like the nature ones. Say you are watching a bunch of lionesses with their cubs. All is well for a while with the cubs practicing their skills and horsing around, as it were. Then, as all children in crowds do, they get out of control. A lioness will take a paw with claws withdrawn and smack the living crap out the cub. The cub can roll for feet. A lion will roar. Now that's yelling.

That's how Mother Nature intended it. Most mother/child relationships in the wild show mothers walloping the living daylights out of their offspring. There isn't a lot of forgiveness out there. If you make a mistake, you are someone's lunch. Mothers have to teach their children how to survive.

Then we have people and society. Walloping children who misbehaved used to be the norm. Now it is an abomination before God if there is a God. If not, it is an abomination before Man.

Baby lions aren't damaged by being smacked across the veldt but swatting a child on the diapered behind will destroy him. How did this happen?

Psychology is an inexact science. I have an acquaintance who claims if it isn't in numbers, it isn't science. So maybe psychology/psychiatry isn't even science. The practice is merely a reflection of the norms of society.

In the wild, incest isn't an issue. In the world of psychology, this is a biggie. We have complexes and diagnoses and it is enough to make us all shudder. Mother Nature doesn't think so, society does.

In the wild, violence is a way of life. It is kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. Even plant life has developed traits to ensure its survival – i.e. poisonous plants. In civilization, we have become so frightened of violence we have abdicated all sense. And added a variety of diseases to the DSM-IV.

Somehow, what was once normal behavior is now the reason for all that is bad. Instead, perhaps we should look at the societies themselves. We were not made for this overcrowding and the constant stimulus we endure today. In olden times, 150 years ago, nightfall meant you were done for the day. There were candles and oil lamps, but the jobs needing light were finished until the next day's sunris

In the evening, there was talk. The television wasn't switched on and the computer wasn't calling out to us. Video games weren't screaming in the background. There was true social interaction.

We call our modern parenting into question when any child is reprimanded and believe we are wounding him or her. Just look at how violent our society has become, it is said. And it is because of poor parenting and violence perpetrated against the child. You can treat a patient for bad parenting. How do you treat someone for bad world? But it is my contention that the world has become too much for us little humans.

There is no bonding time. Parents are rushed and so plop their children in front of a television beginning with Sesame Street and Dora the Explorer and continuing on to the reruns viewed over and over in nursing homes.

We expect our children to learn the rules of the game by osmosis or observation rather than by knocking sense into the heads. We are so frightened of the big, bad world we keep trying to make it safe. It was never safe. It will never be safe. And what we do is often counter productive.

We have wandered far from how Mother Nature intended us to be. Things won't much improve until we learn the rules of the game from her and then willingly teach them to our offspring. So take that. 

Things that are stressing me today

1. There is a definite chance no one will be working by the end of the month.
2. I might have to go out and get some menial and demeaning job.
3. I might have to get my license reinstated and get a horrible off-shift job.
4. I was told I am a blithering idiot, but in a nice way.  
5. I somehow became the enemy for events outside my control.
6. I wish for things to happen and yet don't take the steps to achieve what I want.

Then there are the normal things I worry about:

1. My children and their families
2. My sisters and their families
3. World crises and disasters
4. General ill will at home and abroad
5. Stupid people with too much power and control
6. The futility of it all

Aside from all that, I'm to be cheerful and upbeat. There is no purpose in being sad, blue, depressed, or less than happy. Life is what you make it. And if you get lemons, add some sugar and water and presto, chango you have lemonade.

Even my dog has an ear infection again.

I think I am permitted to get away from the happy factory people and look at life right here in my office. It isn't all that cheery right now. I'm uncertain as to what will happen in the near term and how that will effect the long term.

I've always been the consummate worrier and I'm very good at it. If I can worry when there is nothing to really worry about, I'm really good to go with the current state of affairs both globally and locally.

So, I'm not having a good day. This is in part due to all that is happening. It is also due in part to someone needing a scapegoat and picking me. I have no idea why that happened, but I must say – I don't like it. I'm innocent of all wrongdoing but some how I am being labeled Villain Of All That Could Go Wrong. Seems little over the top. But I'm going to take a deep breath and pretend I live at Tara.

Tomorrow is another day.
Thank God.  

Rules

Life is constrained by rules. Life is defined by the rules of society, the laws of nature, and our moral code. Rules can come from the mountaintop engraved on tablets of stone or be fleeting as those set up by a few six-year-olds inventing a game for the afternoon. Rules show us the edges between approved and banned behaviors. 

And yet, pushing the envelope seems to be another rule. Testing the edges, expanding the boundaries. It ticks me off. 

In the last couple months, I've signed up for a couple different writing forums. I love my original forum, MWC. However, there are times when I want to run free without the extra pressure of being one of the bosses, one of the bad guys, one of the enforcers of the rules. I don't mind following the rules, but I hate having to argue with offenders about why there are rules at all.

There are all sorts of rules. On all three forums there are word games. This is not surprising since writers tend to like words. I have been a member of MWC of about one and a half years. I know all the games and all the rules. The other two forums are newer to me. Before I enter into any of the games, I look at the first page to see what the rules are. Then I play within the rules. Doesn't seem so difficult to me.

Not so fast there, cowboy. Apparently it is difficult. Reading the rules and following the rules stifles creativity – I'm told. Not just for these silly games, but for all writing. Over and over again, there are discussions about spelling, grammar, and punctuation. "Why?" is the plaintive cry, "why must I follow the rules?"

Because if you don't, you look like an idiot. Well, I'm not supposed to say that. I'm supposed to couch my response in terms of readability or salability. What it amounts to is this: When you don't write clearly with proper word usage, you look like an idiot.

Simple.

You would think people hoping to make a living at the written word would have some concept about this. You would be wrong. Creativity is seen to trump all. Free expression is seen as high art. Rules are seen as limiting.

What would happen if I followed no rules andsimplytypedeverything here with oUt yous-in the reel wrdz n sch? I suppose you can read that, but why would you want to work so hard? There are sections with people defending their right to misuse to, too, and two because it's two mch ifort too figer witch won is write. And then they go over to the show and tell portion and spout all these rules.

This week, MWC is sponsoring a set of five contests with prizes offered. The prizes are writing software provided by our sponsor, WCCL. We have a bunch of new people signed up so they can enter the contests. That's great. They are even playing on the boards and getting involved in MWC life. That's great. They are playing the word games because they are fun, easy, and not quite as scary as posting writing to be critiqued or to offer some critique on other people's writing. That's great.

They don't seem to have the idea of reading the rules first. It is hard enough to play a game with people scattered all over the globe. The way it can work is if we all follow the rules.

Even more amazing to me are the entries for the contests. The rules are spelled out with great exactitude. Nick sets the parameters. We go over them before they are posted and make sure the rules are correct and complete. Many eyes make sure we are doing the best we can to make sure the playing field is even for all.

When they are posted, there is space for feedback and clarification. We try to answer questions as soon as possible since there is a time limit for the entries. And yet…

People are taking the time to enter the contests without reading and following the rules. Whatever they send in may be brilliant, but it isn't going to win. The rules are the limits; the boundaries. They apply to all. Even the special people. 

Waiting

"Patience is a virtue." – My mother, every time I was impatient. Which was often.

I've gotten worse, too.

When I was little (no walking to school stories, I promise) we had no Internet. If I wanted to look something up, I had to walk over to the bookcase, find the appropriate volume of the encyclopedia, find the article that would answer my question and then look up associated bits and pieces by pulling out different volumes. There was no instant lookup. There were no links.

When I was little and needed to change the television station, I had to get up and walk to the TV set and physically change the dial. There were only three basic channels and eventually, there were a few more added. If I wanted to know what was on any of the channels, I had to look it up in the TV Guide kept out and handy on the side table next to Dad's chair. And then put it back in the right spot.

If I wasn't around when lunch was cooked and then wanted to heat it up, I had to use a pan and stove. No microwaves. Those came out later. I bought myself one for a wedding present, but before that … stovetop. Or wrap things up in foil and heat it up in the oven. Better be home when a meal was served because the reheating process was odious.

If I was out and about and needed to phone home, I had to find a pay phone. I had to wander around, find the phone, have a dime handy, and then place the call. Then I had to hope someone was home to answer the phone because there was no answering machine.

We had a popcorn popper that looked like a wok with a huge yellow tinted top. To get popcorn, you put oil in the wok and let it heat and then added the popcorn and put the lid on. As it popped, you had time to melt the butter in a special cute little saucepan. Eventually there was popcorn. And it tasted a whole lot better than the microwave kind. But it took forever.

The coffeepot was very odd. Mom had a drip coffee maker. Anne had a percolator. Mom's coffee was made by putting already boiling water into the top piece, and it dripped through to the coffee grounds where it was filtered through to become coffee. Anne's electric percolator heated the water and then spurted it up through the coffee grounds. Any coffee not finished before it got cold had to be heated, again using the stovetop.

I finally got online in 1995. We got our second computer and this one had a modem. I signed up with AOL and had my dial up service. Every time I wanted to get online I had to start my computer which took minutes, then click on the AOL program and wait for it to load, I told it to sign on, the modem started up, dialed the number, tried to get a server, did its computer things, and I got the guy saying Welcome, you've got mail. Well, hopefully he said that. I had a modem with a 2600 baud rate. Whew.

Eventually I got broadband and eventually that got faster, too. My computer is always on and always online. When I need to look something up, I come to my office and shake the mouse waking my computer. I click on the browser, open Wikipedia and type in what I need. Unless its something I type into Google and then click the links through.

When I'm in Wikipedia and reading things – actually just about any site – there are links where I can click through. Any questions can be immediately answered. I have the world at my fingertips.

I grew up with black-and-white TV and now I have You Tube. And now I get impatient when You Tube buffers. I get cranky when the ads take so long to download and the content won't show until they finish, that I often just click off the site entirely.

I used to be able to wait for something to happen. Not always as patiently as my mother would like, but with a little more equanimity than I can muster today. With the world only a click away, I've gotten more and more impatient. When my computer stalls or bogs down, when a file doesn't load instantaneously, I'm angry.

When a link doesn't work, I become upset. Lately, on MWC, there have been problems with stalled access and messed up notification of board postings. Now really, this is not the end of the world. But I get so impatient. All I have to do is click refresh or hit F5 and the new stuff appears. Is that really so hard? Well, apparently it is.

My mother is up in heaven shaking her head. Patti, patience is a virtue. I do believe I can hear that being whispered.