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The writer Stephen King says that everybody has a filter and that his filter is terror. He sees the world through terror-colored lenses. He can't help but see everything as terrifying, or how it can be. It's just how he rolls.

My filter is commentary.

I can't help it. I notice stuff.

If I could turn my filter off, I would. It's somewhat excruciating to grow up a "noticer." Sure, old ladies call you precious and wise when you're 10. But what 10-year-old wants to be wise? Ten-year-olds want to be cute and jolly and popular. We don't want to be the 4^th grader who notices Susie's parents seem distant five years before they announce their divorce.

It took me until this late age to stop trying to be a non-noticer. Now, I just accept it and make some cash off of my noticing. Writing's a great career for noticers. There's only one job requirement of a writer and that's to notice.

So here we are.

Often times we noticers are mistaken for our good friends, critcizers. Technically, we're different. Noticers just report back. Criticizers attach judgment. Noticers let you attach judgment when you criticize the bad behavior we've noticed.

Like most noticers, I grew up feeling like a square peg in a round hole. This is a polite way of saying noticers grow up feeling crazy. No one else seems to notice, or be bothered by, what a noticer notices. But when was the last time you wanted to watch a TV show about someone whose filter is "Happy go lucky?" Hollywood is the land of noticers, all relieved to find out they're not nuts. At least about what they notice.

But as good as writers are with words, we tend to be bad with criticism. Me, personally, I dish it out so I'm happy to take it. I've had a lifetime of criticism preparing me for my career as a writer starting with the normal growing-up crap, then my move to LA - a city that serves as a graduate course in self-loathing.

In my 10-year career as the world's worst actress, I put on my thick skin to endure comments like, "You were the most talented actress we saw, but you just weren't pretty enough," "Your eyes are too close together" (which they are) and "You don't have a strong voice. Not your point of view, the one you speak with." I've been told my hips are too wide, but my face is too thin. I've been told girls aren't funny right before I'm told how funny I am. I've been told that at a size 6, I should consider full-figure modeling. And on and on and on.

So I'm technically really good at criticism, unless it comes from someone who can't spell. Then, I tend to "notice" you're a moron and not take your criticism to heart.

So when I received my first mean and personal comment on my blog the other day, I was torn. On one hand, I'm thrilled. Criticism means controversy and controversy means ratings/interest/readers. I'm also a bit grateful when anyone reads my stuff, much less takes the time to comment on it - good or bad. And I'm also a firm believer in dishing it out AND taking it. Not just dishing it out.

So when I received this comment the other day on my post about the see-through Lululemons I wore to the gym, I couldn't help but notice a certain grammatical error. (You can read the whole post if you'd like to judge whether or not I don't have a real job as suggested by the writer).

From Justin (Not my husband. Trust me, I checked.): "You need someone to tell you if your clothes are see-through? I'm guessing your an idiot who does not have a real job or brain?"

I was at first touched. Someone took the time to read and comment on my work. He doesn't have to like it.

But since I'm a professional noticer, I couldn't help but notice that the kind gentleman, who called me a moron, did not know how to spell. I thought we all knew that rule: criticizers lose all credibility if they don't know how to spell.

So in effort to help I thought I'd explain my own personal rules of criticism. You're welcome to adopt them, even when criticizing me.

1) Never comment on personal appearance. Criticism should be earned by bad behavior. No one can control how they look. Lord knows if we could, my hips would be smaller and my eyes would be further apart. Criticize people for what they can control, like their crappy behavior and bad personality. Leave the looks commentary to a plastic surgeon or mother-in-law.

2) Criticize differently than a third-grader. Little kids like to tease others with cute phrases like "Stinky-head" or "Doo-doo mouth." These things don't make sense, but they do hurt other's feelings. It's best a grown-up not comment in way that makes them sound like they are in elementary school. If you're not sure if your comment makes you sound like you are in elementary school, take the "Neener neener neener" off the end and see if it still holds up.

3) Don't get personal. If you don't like someone's writing or you think the writer doesn't make valid points, comment away. But if you end a comment with the phrase, "Take that" or "That'll show 'em," you've probably gotten a little mean.

4) Remember we're just writers. We're not responsible for genocide or mass graves. There's often a "who do you think you are?" face that's met when someone says she is a writer. Doctors don't get this and they amputate real live body parts. Astronauts don't get this and they defy gravity. But if you think you have something to say and the words to say it, the world wants to say " F*** you." But do remember, a writer is just a writer. We haven't say...killed anyone, nor can we control hurricanes. What's the big deal?

5) Know the difference between "you're" and "your." You don't have to be smarter than me to comment on my writing, but you should know your credibility is lost if my 6-year-old has a better command of the English language than you do. And these days, you don't even need a thesaurus (that's a book with big words); you just need "Google." (The thing you currently use as a dictionary.)

My response to Justin on the Lululemon post? You'll just have to read it.

- Meredith Gordon

Meredith Gordon is a recovered actress and stand-up comic who has always been a "glass is half annoying" kind of girl. She write movies, blogs and ad copy, and you can find her innermost snarky thoughts at Bad Sandy. She is married to the world's most stylish straight man and they raise their children in Los Angeles.