I don't write about Archipelago, the diary web ring I administer, in this diary very often. Partly that's to avoid having to discuss tricky issues like why I choose web sites based on quality instead of letting anyone who wants to join sign up, and partly it's because I think I do a perfectly fine job of explaining what I'm after at the site itself. I am proud of the ring. It's good, and it runs smoothly, and it has a certain cachet attached to it precisely because I opted to be selective instead of running an open ring. But with the cachet comes stigma: elitism, unfairness, snobbery. Honestly, you'd think no one ever thought of doing an anthology-style web ring before me. Certainly no one else seems to want to put up with the potential for hurt feelings and vicious email that can result from people being turned down. It's worth it, though.
The truly difficult part of being an editor is finding a polite way to say no. I've failed at it more than once, particularly in the beginning. I've tried telling people why I don't think their diaries are Archipelago material and it's always backfired because no one cares about my opinion and they certainly don't want to hear someone doesn't like their art. I'm far more diplomatic now, and so I should be. Unfortunately, even the most generic thanks-but-no-thanks language is still capable of making people defensive and angry. It's a shame, but that can't be helped so I'm willing to take the heat even if it's misplaced. What exasperates me are the goofs who dismiss the idea of a web ring based on standards as innately wrong. That attitude is ridiculous. Literary standards apply to all writing, including our beloved diaries, and anything that's published ought to be held up to those standards. We can all agree on whether or not a diarist can write his or her way out of a paper bag if we all use those standards. Agreeing we like it is a different issue entirely, and far more personal. If someone decides my taste in diaries sucks they don't have to read anyone listed in Archipelago. The concept, however, is sound.
It's an interesting collection of diarists that I've put together. It's not a particularly cohesive group but they're all artists so I'm not surprised. Some of them are vitriolic in their dislike of one another. Some of them get along famously. I'm absolutely convinced that one or two of them are real friends of mine even though we may not have met or may not see each other often. The competitiveness is pretty intense, and I occasionally succumb to it when I see how many more readers Diarist X gets compared to my hit counter, but I don't think that's a bad thing. We all want acknowledgement for our unique contributions but we also want to be the best in our chosen spheres so we're not intimidated by laying our art on the line. The diaries I choose are the ones which I think have the results to back up the attitude. The traits I see Archipelagans as having in common are a good eye for design, outstanding writing skills, and a fascinating personal worldview. Beyond that, no two diarists are alike.
And that's the way I like it.
