Someone I’ve never met and never spoken to popped up on my radar last week.
Turns out, they hate me.
I don’t mean they don’t want to be friends, or they don't really like the way I can't listen to music without singing along. No. They hate me enough to take time away from their spouse, children, career and hobbies to spew their hatred onto the Internet, complete with some alarmingly creative nicknames and intense speculation about my mental health.
Another day recently, I got an email from someone else I’d never met. This person was convinced a Tweet I wrote to a friend a year or so back was a personal insult directed at them. This was apparently one of many messages I’ve directed their way. They demanded that I leave them alone and stop being rude about them.
Erm, okay.
While backing away with my hands in the air, I got to thinking about these people. On magazines we’d call them ‘the green ink brigade’ - a nickname that came about because their letters were almost always hand-written in some wacky ink or other. Online, you’re more likely to spot them by their lack of attention to punctuation and a fondness for exclamation marks.
Over the years, I've been contacted by green inkers who tell me I should die, it's no wonder my husband left me, I'm mentally ill and in need of an immediate section, my editors know what I'm really like, everyone in my home town hates me but just hasn't told me and, also, I'm a bad driver. Although that last bit was probably fair comment.
My all-time favourite online green inker was Ben, who took time out of his day to tell me I was the most evil and vindictive mother he'd ever known. Do read it, if you haven't before, it's possibly the funniest thing I've ever been sent by email.
I’ve got a journalist friend who loves to provoke Internet crazies – adding salacious details to stories that she knows will drive them into a frenzy of righteous indignation. She then sits back and laughs as strangers declare that she is an abomination of womanhood.
Unfortunately for me, I can rile them without even trying. I’m a single Mum. I’ve got quite a dry sense of humour. I like to rant about PR and journalism. I earn a major part of my living from blogging. I earn most of the rest of my living by writing articles in newspapers and magazines.
In short, I'm very visible, so it's easy for the green inkers to find me. I sometimes think I might as well just walk around with a target stapled to the back of my t-shirt.
In my early career, I used to try and converse with the green inkers. Then I realised that nobody who takes time out of their day to tell you that they hope you die in a car crash is going to read anything you say and think, “Wow, I had them all wrong”. If that were THAT rational, they'd have just unfollowed you, or stopped reading, let's face it.
These days I only reply to rude messages if they’re not personally abusive or threatening. As a rule, I keep it factual and thank people for their feedback. Then I set up a rule to delete any future messages from them unread, and I forget about it.
It hasn’t always been so easy. In my early days of blogging, in particular, I could be upset for days by a horrible remark, particularly one about my daughter, or something that implied someone knew me personally. It’s hard to ignore your inner five-year-old who is busy keening: “But why don’t they like meeeeee?”
What I’ve learned – and what I hope will help you next time you’re subject to online attacks – is that it’s almost never personal. Because they don’t know you. Having such a violent, irrational reaction to something they’ve read online is everything to do with something lacking in their lives, and nothing to do with your personality, writing or talent.
I have seen time and time again that the single identifying characteristic of the online green inker is that they cannot understand or articulate the difference between “I don’t agree with you” and “I hate you”.
In some ways, I’m grateful for the green inkers. They’ve given me a far thicker skin than I ever used to have. They also remind me every time they get in touch that life's short - far too short to waste time worrying about what some Internet weirdo thinks of you. Also, one day, I'm totally going to put together a book of the best of the green ink, and retire on the proceeds.
