I first became a stuck-at-home mom eleven and a half years ago, long before blogs were in vogue. All us moms had then was Annie Lamott to ease our boredom and reassure us that we were not alone in the fine madness that is motherhood. I could have really used a lifeline like “My Tiny Kingdom,” “Leery Polyp” or any of the dozens of other top-notch mommy blogs that are out there today. Not only because many of them reflect my experience, but also because they give me glimpses into different variations on the theme of motherhood, and the closely-examined lives of others.

Now, because I was raised in the shadow of Mr. Schickel, I avoided writing until I finally broke down under my own creative pressure and spewed a bunch of mothering essays, which I published (for teeny-tiny amounts of money) in our local newspapers and also, for free, on the internet. While it was delightful and validating to be paid 10 cents a word writing for alternative weeklies, it was my unpaid writing for Hipmama.com that got me noticed by a NYC literary agent and resulted in my book deal. So to you and your readers, here I stand, a living rebuttal to my own father’s half-baked theory.

Now, I know my Pop can be (as a less fair-minded blogger dubbed him) a “doody-head”, but he’s MY doody-head and I love him. He is a brilliant critic, an inspired writer, and encyclopedic in his subject, which is film history. He is also a tireless supporter and champion of my work, as his mention of my “momoir” at the conference proves. But like many of our parents’ generation, he’s coming from another mind set. At 73 he’s enjoyed a lifetime of success and validation working in the traditional world of letters, and has no reason to adapt to the new world order. His place is assured in journalism, but for most of our generation of writers, traditional, pulp-based freelance outlets and opportunities are disappearing, and it is clear that the real action is on the web. (Incidentally, review space has shrunk to nothing in Time, and my Dad is writing a lot for its dotcom these days.)

So, like most seniors, the old man has little use and limited understanding of our generation’s newfangled ways - it’s just a variation on the classic “Rock n’ Roll is noise!” argument. But unlike most people’s parents, my dad gets a platform. True, he should know his audience before he blows hard, but also, whoever booked that panel and put him in a roomful of bloggers was simply out of their gourd. I’m not trying to excuse, only to explain. My Pop is indeed an opinionated, curmudgeonly, coot — and nothing delights him more than pissing people off. He’s loving this inasmuch as he’s following it.

Of course, I wasn’t at the conference, but believe me, I’ve heard his rap before. Take what you can from it: we should all try to write every day about the things we care about, whether it’s D.W. Griffith or our own pancake-like breasts. It’s all valid and we should value our work and try to get paid for it whenever we can. But we should also go where its warm, where our readers can find us and where we can build a community of shared thought and experience and just do the thing we love: write. Having said that, let’s also make room for the dissenters, the doubters, the naysayers and all of those who swim against the current. Crowning Schickel with a coil of turd as Zaius Nation did merely validates his assumption that the internet is populated by childish, mean-spirited, navel-gazers. So again, thank you for taking a higher road at MTK. You may not like what Dick Schickel had to say - but at least you were fair, and look, it led to some interesting posts!

Then I saw this post. What a story! I have to admit that even some friends and relatives of mine question my time investment in the blog. “How can you write all of that for free?” Sometimes I’m not sure how to answer. It’s true that I don’t gain financially from it at all. But, well, my post today explains some of my motivation. I’m rambling, but just know that as a blogger, I thank you for standing up for us. Many bloggers have greater readership than some small magazines, and they’re writing very well.

I wish I’d been there to witness the whole interaction. But you told the story so well, I feel like I was.

While most of what I write about on my blog would be considered pure drivel by many, there are those rare occasions when what I do post is of value to my readers and theraputic for me. I don’t know what I would do without my site, and the many, many friends I have gained because of it. Long live the blog!