If you've ever wanted to get in touch with more people who are either unhinged or incredibly needy (or both), by all means, start a modestly successful open source project.
That sounds bitter. Let me rephrase: one of the surprising aspects of open-sourcing Caret has been that much of the time I spend on it does not involve coding at all. Instead, it's community management that absorbs my energy. Don't get me wrong: I'm happy to have an audience. Caret users seem like a great group of people, in general. But in my grumpier moments, after closing issue requests and answering clueless user questions (sample, and I am not making this up: "how do I save a file?"), there are times I really sympathize with project leaders who simply abandon their code. You got this editor for free, I want to say: and now you expect me to work miracles too?
Take a pull request, for example. That's when someone else does the work to implement a feature, then sends me a note on GitHub with a button I can press to automatically merge it in. Sounds easy, right? The problem is that someone may have written that code, but it's almost guaranteed that they won't be the one maintaining it (that would be me). Before I accept a pull request, I have to read through the whole thing to make sure it doesn't do anything crazy, check the code style against the rest of Caret, and keep an eye out for how these changes will fit in with future plans. In some cases, the end result has to be a nicely-worded rejection note, which feels terrible to write and to receive. Either way, it's often hours of work for something as simple as a a new tab button.
These are not new problems, and I'm not the first person to comment on them. Steve Klabnik compares the process to being an "open source gardener," which horrifies me a little since I have yet to meet a plant I can't kill. But it is surprising to me how badly "social" code sites handle the social part of open source. For example, on GitHub, they finally added a "block" feature, but there's no fine-grained permissions--it's all or nothing, on a per-user basis. All projects there also automatically get a wiki that's editable by any user, whether they own the repo or not, which seems ripe for abuse.
Ultimately, the burden of community management falls on me, not on the tools. Oddly enough, there don't seem to be a lot of written guides for improving open source management skills. A quick search turned up Producing Open Source Software by Karl Fogel, but otherwise everyone seems to learn on their own. That would do a lot to explain the wide difference in tone between a lot of projects, like the wide difference I see between Chromium (always pleasant) and Mozilla (surprisingly abrasive, even before the Eich fiasco).
If I had a chance to do it all again, despite all the hassle, I would probably keep all the communication channels open. I think it's important to be nice to people, and to offer help instead of just dumping a tool on the world. And I like to think that being responsive has helped account for the nearly 60,000 people who use Caret weekly. But I would also set rules for myself, to keep the problem manageable. I'd set times for when I answer e-mails, or when I close issues each day. I'd probably disable the e-mail subscription feature for the repository. I'd spend some time early on writing up a style guide for contributors.
All of these are ways of setting boundaries, but they're also the way a project gets a healthy culture. I have a tremendous amount of respect for projects like Chromium that manage to be both successful and — whenever I talk to their organizers — pleasant and understanding. Other people may be able to maintain that kind of demeanor full-time, but I'm too grumpy, and nobody's compensating me for being nice (apart from the one person who sends me a quarter on Gittip every week). So if you're in contact with me about Caret, and I seem to be taking a little longer these days to get back to you, just remember what you're paying for service.