Ever had nerves as your mouse’s arrow hovers over the “send” button for an email you have written? Whether it was an important message or to an important person or both, you inevitably toiled over each word. Then, rather than act on impulse, you slept on it. The following morning you read it over again and congratulated yourself on having been prudent as you pick up an error or just a typo. Then you fix it and, finally, take a deep breath as your index finger presses the left button on the mouse. It is gone. Same deal for sms messages too, although the content is usually quite more mundane.
I observe that the notion of blogging, whether composing or commenting, can involve the same emotional touchpoints. When you click the “publish” button, there is (at least theoretically) no turning back. And, just as you gain experience in writing sensitive emails and coming to terms with the finity of a (one-way) communication, you become accustomed to the process. Ever better, you work to understand how the missive will be received. What will the reader retain? What will be the response?
In the old days, that “click and it’s gone” feeling was experienced when you relinquished the envelope and let it drop into the unopenable mailbox. Seems like, via the democratization of communications, the liberty to “click” is evermore present.
I can imagine new courses on managing the stress of sending messages or publishing on line, much more than the receiving and treating of the daily deluge of emails.
