I hate to admit this, but I was somewhat consoled by Mary Elizabeth William’s blog on unfriendly reader feedback. She has her haters, too! And she interviews about a dozen memoir writers about their hate mail. In her post, called “Thanks for Your Feedback, or: I’ll Just Go Kill Myself Now,” she writes:

I thought I knew what I was getting into when I wrote Gimme Shelter. I have, after all, made a career of oversharing about my personal life. When the gods were handing out boundaries, I was getting seconds of bacon. I’ve written about sex, childbirth, motherhood, religion, politics — you know, stuff that readers generally feel so dispassionate and non-judgmental about. I’ve received a death threat or two, and dependably get the classic “YOUR STUPID.”

In truth, the response to Gimme Shelter has been overwhelmingly kind. None of my close friends have pitched major hissies; the reviews have generally been nice. Still, when an excerpt ran in Salon.com a few weeks ago, it didn’t take long for a few readers to declare me an “emotionally unstable” “gold digger” who should never have had children. Soon after, on another site, a commenter wrote that he could not imagine another book he would less like to read.

OUCH.

At this point, she includes some of the not-so-kind feedback other writers have received and how they deal with it. I was one of them. Here’s what I wrote:

How do I take it? I read the first line or two and then if I feel that knot in my stomach I don’t read the rest. On my really insecure days, I don’t read comments at all, because there is always a zinger that could ruin my day.

And then I gave everyone an example:

I do not find you amusing, and I cannot relate to what you write at all. I am frankly amazed that Beliefnet or whoever it is continues to pay you to do this. It’s terrible. Get a reality check, lady. Your insights are nothing special, and your attempt at humor is just not good. You are not a good writer, either.

Yes, it’s true. I do a sampling of those warm fuzzies. But I also get some fabulously supportive mail, so, like I said, I just read two lines and if I feel the pinch in my stomach, I go on to another e-mail. Unless I’m on a diet, and I want to throw up.

After she interviews a share of really interesting women, Mary Elizabeth ends her post with this sweet invitation for you all to tell your story (and risk ridicule) too!

So when people wonder where the hell I got the nerve to write a book and ask, “What makes you think you’re so special?” the answer is, because we all are. We’ve all got our stories. And those moments when yours and mine converge are the sweetest imaginable.

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