Front Porch: Feedback good for a writer’s soul

Columnists don’t write in a vacuum – though perhaps we’d meet deadlines more promptly if we did. Then again there’s no air in a vacuum, so that might complicate things, but I digress (something columnists do – a lot).

In my six-plus years of columnizing in this space, I’ve amassed hundreds of emails, letters, cards and voicemails from readers. That reader feedback is invaluable. It lets me know the thoughts that flow out of my head, through my fingertips, and into newsprint have resonated somewhere. My words made someone laugh, ticked someone off, or prompted memories of similar life experiences.

Recently, I was invited to speak to a local civic group and was asked “How do you choose the topics for your Front Porch column?”

I tried to come up with a witty answer, but honestly my columns, just like the title, are about the view from my front porch. I write about what I’ve observed or experienced in my home or in our community.

Sometimes the view from my front porch includes cats. This proves problematic for some readers.

A recent column about Thor’s weight problem generated this email: “Cindy – I was angry and even embarrassed with your article in today’s Valley Voice – is there nothing intelligent or witty to write about except your boring cat – why not venture out of your house and into the lives of some interesting people who inhabit the Valley area – there are needs to be filled, people to be helped, and interesting and intelligent young people to feature instead of your silly cat article.”

I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure this reader does not like reading about my cats.

That same column prompted this note: “Cindy, Your ‘fat cat’ column made me smile and literally laugh aloud today. I can relate to every point of your piece.”

Who knew cats could be so controversial?

The reader who didn’t appreciate the cat column also advised, “Please broaden your scope outside of your comfort zone – your family.”

Obviously, this person did not read my hot dog column. Talk about out of my comfort zone!

Yet another reader had this to say, “I look forward to every other Thursday when I know you will be there. I laugh at your wonderful tales of motherhood. I felt like I lost a friend myself when your husband’s father passed away and I congratulate you on your 26th wedding anniversary. I feel as though I know your husband and your sons too as I read your column. I can almost see them interact with you like I am standing right there while Milo and Thor nap in their latest soft spot.”

Sometimes the notes I receive break my heart. Several years ago, I wrote about those end-of-summer-empty- house-blues I get when the boys go back to school. A reader took me to task. “I hate it when mothers bemoan their kids going back to school or growing up and leaving home. My son died at 17. He will never come home again.”

What a wake-up call.

I’ve never forgotten that reader or that note. While I still write about the challenges of raising boys who are rapidly turning into men, I’m ever mindful of how blessed I am to have sons who still come home.

After all these years as a columnist, I thought I’d pretty much seen or heard it all when it comes to reader feedback. I was wrong. Readers still surprise me.

Last week someone left a voicemail for my editor regarding my Pig Out in the Park column. After struggling a bit with my last name (Huh-vall) and breaking into song, the caller said, “Her column for Pig Out in the Park was awesome! You know, this is how good it was – it was so good that I took the column out and I actually ate the column, that’s how good it was!” There was a pause and then he continued, “Not really. But I did lick the newsprint.”

I’m glad I don’t write in a vacuum. If I did, I’d never know when a column is disconcerting enough to incite anger or good enough to eat.