Kathleen Parker December 27, 2013

By Kathleen Parker
December 27, 2013

The year-end review required of all columnists inevitably brings us to the mailbag and a few clarifications.

For the record, I read my mail but never online comments. Anonymity liberates hostility, we’ve learned, and the customary onlineabuse riot undermines the grandiosity required to write opinion. Butdon’t stop! For some reason, my family thinks the comments are a hoot.

The mail that does reach my inbox is split about evenly between fans andnot-so-fans. I’ve concluded that there must be a repository ofletter-to-columnist templates out there somewhere. About 70 percent ofmissives begin with one of the following:

● “I usually stop reading your column after the first sentence, but . . .”

● “I rarely agree with you, but . . . ”

● “I am a fan — you knew this was coming — but . . . ”

And this just in. “I’m not sure how columnists like you who write for a living get paid.” (Usually by direct deposit.)

Otherwise, my response to all of the above: So whaddya want for a buck?

A few days ago, a letter asked me whether I ever considered that I might be wrong. My one-word response: “Constantly.”

Which is true, up to a point. A columnist couldn’t write if she thought shewere wrong, right? But oftentimes we write to find out what we think,and sometimes we surprise ourselves. Many times I wish I thoughtotherwise, since life would be so much easier, but then we’d be bored.

Sometimes, yes, I even change my mind. When you’ve written columns as long as Ihave (26 or 27 years, I can’t remember), you’d best change your mind oradmit that you never trouble yourself with thinking. Certitude is a mask one dons only for deadlines, after which, feet on desk, one ruminateson the source of such certitude. This, of course, leads to cripplingself-doubt, which in turn may lead to drinking or, worse, yoga.

For my own edification, a few words about the differences between onlinewriting and newspaper writing. Like the difference between the male andfemale sexual appetites (just to keep you interested), one is amicrowave, the other a crockpot. Online writers zip and zap across thedigital realm in real time, sometimes accelerating before news breaks.Newspaper writers, especially columnists, tend to simmer.

You’llnotice at this point that columnists tend to digress. They alsogeneralize because, we must. It’s our nature. We don’t care that somefemales have appetites equal to males. If three is a trend, “most” isenough to generalize. Plus, we are easily bored (note the constantimperative to not be bored), and nothing is more tedious thanpunctiliousness. On the other hand, using a word like punctiliousnesscan make one want to smoke a cigarette afterward.

Back to thematter of differences. Because of print deadlines, I typically write two to three days before a column appears in print. Thus, I have toconsider on Thursday what might still be of interest by Sunday. Thoughone is, therefore, always late to the game, I can think of fewcommentaries that don’t benefit from a few days’ simmer.

Anotherdifference has to do with standards. Newspaper tradition requires thatwe heed the “family” rule: What is appropriate for family consumption,especially on Sunday mornings? This mandate was born (ages ago) of thedesire never to offend anyone, which can make for some rather aridreading and writing that doesn’t swell one’s breast. One must be cleverenough to select words that sneak past the kiddies, who, having weariedof FaceTime twerking, might accidentally trip over a grown-up thought.

Another frequent reader comment: “Nice job, but you failed to mention . . . ” or “You left out . . . ”

Yes, but . . . columnists are strictly held to a nonnegotiable word count — in mycase, 750 and not a definite article more. My definition of a column,soon to be a book title, is: “A Sliver of a Slice of a Piece of aMoment.” It is a glimpse of an insight viewed through the prism ofanother’s tenure on Earth, served with trepidation and self-flagellating humility.

This is to say, thanks for the memories, the corrected syntax and the astute observations about my laxity and bombast, andspecial gratitude to those (you know who you are) who sharedoften-brilliant insights through their own tenured prism.

I couldn’t do it without you.

Cheers!

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