Farm Friday, September 29th, 2023
Wet pumpkins
After living through a drought this summer that kept our pumpkins and squash smaller than they might have been, picking day turned out to be a muddy mess.
We had an elementary class out to the farm for three days of harvesting and other work and play. My group rode the wagon out to the pumpkin and squash patch and went to work loading it up. The forecast was for cloudy days, but no rain. Well… that was a lie. We were rained on five times while picking and loading, but at least it was warm. And there were more pumpkins than I had expected.
We are ready for tomorrow’s harvest festival when hundreds of people will descend on the farm for hayrides and apple pressing and to pick out a pumpkin and eat from the potluck. I can’t wait for it to happen, and I can’t wait for it to be over.
It is picture-perfect fall colors right now, so the festival is timed right.
In writing news, I am starting to understand the fatigue that some of the women writers talk about. If they write about sexism or write their own story of personal trauma, they get many male commenters who try to either attack, demean, or argue with them.
In writing a piece in support of Yael Wolfe and examining my own masculinity, I said that there are some problematic things about how masculinity operates in the USA.
The variety of critiques I received from men was overwhelming. It got to the point where if I saw that a comment was from a male I would clench my teeth and harden my shell so I could be ready for what was coming. I erased one comment that was very rude, but others I tried to respond to in the spirit of conversation. I didn’t want their words to just sit there without a response, and in most cases, there was something I could learn from their critiques.
The standard is to find one thing they think is “wrong” or faulty logic about my piece and use it to discredit the whole thing. Except usually they don’t touch the main points. They mostly want to “own” me. Gotcha.
But by midweek I was tired of it all and also busy with my full-time job. So there are a few comments sitting there uncontested claiming that I am full of shit. Oh well.
I think the general sense of the commenters is that I must hate myself to write about how men are often awful to women. It must seem like I have betrayed all the men out there. Some commenters claim that the real toxicity is from women like Yael, not men. Or that she must be average-looking to get that kind of abuse. Wow. I just want to say that their comments are proving my point better than I could have done myself. But I don’t like to go snarky and try to get into a shouting match. It doesn’t do any good for anyone.
To some extent the critics have been effective. I’m second guessing some of the things I was so confident about and hesitant to write another piece about men.
It is interesting to me that my piece about Yael generated so many views and reads. I touched a nerve. I had been thinking that Medium was kind of dead because so few people read most of my stories. But it seems that I have been writing in a cul-de-sac while others are writing on a superhighway or something.
For me to be tired and shy after writing one mildly provocative essay might be an example of male fragility. Like how men seem to complain most loudly when sick or injured. I will get back on the critical conversation train soon, though. It is in my nature.
I’m also considering trying some more fiction. I used to do more for the Vocal challenges, but that was a bust. No readers and no wins, places, or shows. But maybe I like writing fiction. So maybe I do more Vocal challenges for me.
