The Slope’s best book sale is today and tomorrow at the Park Slope Methodist Church on Sixth Avenue at 8th Street.

A few months ago I ran into one of the organizers and she thanked me for all the times I listed that event, which is in its 19th year. I thanked her and we conversed very pleasantly; I told her that I was no longer blogging. .

Suprise. I am blogging. But as I tell people, I’m not doing hyper-local anymore. However, because she was so nice. Because I have a soft spot for people who thank me. Because I like book sales…

I am doing this shout out for this very worthwhile event.   Did I mention I have a soft spot for worthwhile events…

That’s what got me into this mess/blog in the first place

It was great to get away from OTBKB and the quicksand of the Internet for a few months. I spent so many hours hunched over this hot computer, I really needed a  break. I didn’t even know how much I needed a break.

I needed a break.

The Internet feels like a new place just a few months later. 140 character tweets are really the currency of  the social media world right now. Yet, blogging doesn’t seem to have any less relevance. Scouting about, I discovered a world of blogs on xoJane and elsewhere.

And a world of comments. This week on xoJane, a blogger named Daisy is getting hammered for an interview she did with Tucker Max followed by a post she wrote called You Guys Hurt My Stupid F*cking Feelings, followed by an even sillier post she wrote called 14 Ways to Make Guys Love You (From the Girl Who Lives and Breathes It).

There were aspects of the You Guys Hurt My F*cking Feelings post that I related to. Back in my days of endless blogging, I would get hurt by comments on OTBKB and at the Brooklyn Paper. I forced myself to get a tough skin and to avoid comments. I see that Daisy is just now learning that important lesson.

I’ll be honest: There are times I don’t read the comments. It’s not worth the stress/anger/anguish. But mostly, I try to read them because I think you deserve that. And that it’s sort of part of an unspoken “deal” we have on this site.

That is: You took the time to read my piece (although not everyone does, which is also obvious), so I should check out what you have to say. I’ve been doing that for 10 months. But I think going forward? I might be do less of it.

Despite that insight, she decided to write a really snarky, sarcastic post that left a lot of her readers feeling insulted, which can happen when you take the opinion of a few commenters to be the opinion of your entire readership. That’s a mistake because it’s usually the people who disagree with you who make comments. Those who like what you’re doing don’t bother to say anything. If you decide to fight back it makes for some very defensive and not altogether pleasant writing.

So, I dunno if you guys, like, totally heard, or what, but word on the street is: I’m only in it to impress dudes. I know, right? Apparently I’m so concerned about doing this that I don’t even care if I totally throw other chicks under the bus. I don’t know why this is a big deal, or whatever, because, um, hel-lo! Boys are the best! They have, like, money and stuff to pay for my drinks. And penises! And obviously all of my daddy issues mean that I’m basically nothing unless men pay attention to ME ME ME ME ME.

One gets the feeling that the writer is either having a very public meltdown or she’s further milking the site for all the attention she craves. Here’s an example of one of the many comments she got from outraged readers:

I replied earlier but wanted to reply directly to you as well. No one is taking you seriously at this point, Daisy. It might be all in good fun for you, but it wasn’t fun for me. As a reader and xojane commenter (who did not comment on the two articles preceding this one), this made me feel…trying to find the right word…kind of unwelcome. Even though I didn’t comment on your other pieces and thought some comments were harsh, there were constructively critical comments that I did agree with and I read this piece feeling like I was swimming in passive-aggressive hostility.

And perhaps because I’m reading this as an editor too…I just want to red pen the last three pieces you’ve written and tell you to be an adult. It’s fine to provoke dialogue, but making your readers feel like shit is another thing entirely.

xoJane is an interesting place. The enormously popular site’s tagline  is “Where women go when they are feeling selfish and their selfishness is applauded.” Obviously that tag line is just dripping with irony or quotation marks. But the site truly is a haven for over-sharing and over-telling.  There’s a column called It Happened to Me, which  features stories like My Father Tried to Kill My Whole Family, My Father Disinherited Me (a beautiful and heartbreaking piece written by my friend Elizabeth Nelson), I Had My Third Nipple Removed, I Am in a Sexless Marriage and so on.

xoJane is actually a fascinating place to spend some time. That said,  it does remind me how dangerous a place the Internet can be. The on-going cycle of over-sharing as a means for attention can be pretty scary. And it reminds me of why I needed to take a break from my own blog back in September. Thick skin is the name of the game but so is careful and constructive writing with something compelling to say.

Taking a break from this blog was like a separation from a long marriage. Seven years and I needed a breather. It was my seven year itch, my seventh inning  stretch.

My hiatus began last June. But I’d been flagging since I began training to be a court reporter in February of 2011. In July, I embarked on a trip to Europe and I knew that I wouldn’t be writing from there. So the timing seemed right.

Indeed, it was well-timed and necessary separation from life with OTBKB. Here’s what I wrote on September 13, 2011:

Last Spring, for the first time in a very long time, I just couldn’t find the time, the will, or the interest to blog.  Because I was in school, OTBKB wasn’t the primary thing I was doing; I felt I had to step away to make room for the new. Stepping away was actually easier than I imagined it would be. I was spending more and more time in Manhattan and my non-stop attention to Brooklyn was waning

Marital separations can go one of two ways. In the best case scenario, they provide much needed time for solo reflection and a chance to explore what went wrong—and what went right.

They can also herald the end of a marriage.

Well, I’ve had my time away from the blog and I find myself kinda sorta missing it. I miss the daily discipline of it, the outlet for creative expression, the readers, the community connection, the ability to promote Brooklyn Reading Works and other local events.

So I decided that me and OTBKB needed to get together for coffee and talk about getting back together.  And that’s exactly what we did. We met at the Purity Diner in Park Slope. I had a cup of coffee, OTBKB was fine with just a glass of water. The conversation went like this.

Me: I miss you.

OTBKB: I miss you, too.

Me: I want to get back together. But in a different way.

OTBKB: What do you mean?

Me: Well, I want to be together but not like before. I need some space, some boundaries, some time for myself.

OTBKB: Does that mean that we shouldn’t live together?

Me: Not exactly. It’s just that I can’t post as often as I did. I can’t spend most of my day typing away on a hot computer (like at a hot stove) working on posts. I need to do some of my own writing, I need to make money, I need to do other things, too.

OTBKB: I understand…

Me: You do?

OTBKB: Sure, I could see that you were losing interest, that you were tired. That you were frustrated being with me all the time.

Me: Thanks for understanding.

OTBKB: So what do you want to do?

Me: I want to give it a try, again.

OTBKB: Sounds great to me. It’s been kind of  boring lately.

Me: I know.

OTBKB: Let’s not overthink this. Let’s just see what happens.

Me: Now that sounds like a great idea.

OTBKB: Happy Valentines Day, by the way.

Me: You too.