Several of my blogging friends and acquaintances have been in an introspective, 10,000 feet sort of place about blogging this week. They’re posting and commenting about the logistics of it, the resulting relationships, the effects on those relationships, and so forth. A frequent component of these discussions, whether expressed or implied, is a blog owner claiming to write for himself or herself, giving little to no thought to what others think.
Well, I’m not going to say that. In fact, I’m going to deny it vehemently. I blog because I want to be told how wonderful I am. If you blog, then I submit that you do too. What’s that? I’m full of shit, you say? Hardly. If you didn’t care what others thought, you wouldn’t have a blog. You’d have a journal.
Starting a blog is an egotistical act. Continuing a blog is another one. You do it because you think you have something to say that someone else will want to read. You may have ancillary reasons—I do too—but if I can find your blog on Google, then you care what others think. It’s human, and there’s no shame in it. Own it.
Starting out, I didn’t know what to expect. The night I started WmWms most of two years ago, I did so quite casually, actually. Boom: there it is. What’s next?
As I’ve become more seasoned, I’ve come to expect some things, but mass appeal isn’t one of them. I’d love a truly large readership, of course, but I’m not going to get it here. For one thing, WmWms is too scattered. When I’m blogging about Barack Obama one day, Alabama football the next, my son the next, and a memory from when I sold cars the day after that, there isn’t much opportunity to appeal to the same person day in and day out.
Blogs that build enormous audiences have focus. It’s part of what has frustrated the hell out of me with Dark and Stormy, actually. When Saintseester told me her idea, I was excited, because I thought it was purposed enough to resonate. It’s the book club for people who don’t have time for a book club. Hey, there’s something to which busy smart people can relate! Let’s do it!
Except you’re not doing it. Saintseester, Mrs. Chili, and I are enjoying ourselves, and I suppose we’ll continue, but really, we’re not doing anything we couldn’t do in private. I’ve slowly let go of any expectation that we’ll have even as many as 100 listeners for any show, never mind the 10,000 I imagined could be possible by now.
Digressing. Moaning a bit, I suppose.
What I do have at WmWms is steadily increasing numbers, and (my logs tell me) quite a bit of loyalty. (Incidentally, consider this a delurking invitation if you’re one of dozens I don’t know who visit regularly.) I appreciate the chuckle, the compliment, and the occasional challenge you bring to me. Whether I knew you before, or I’ve met you because of this blog, or I only know you as an oft-occurring IP address in my logs, you’re people who “get” me in one way or another, and I value that validation. Thank you.
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bigdave on 
Bo on 
BamaDan on 
Jack Eason on 
MrsDragon on 
Hey, now; I admitted to not writing for myself, didn’t I?
Yes, I crave the approval, too, but I don’t think I need the kind of scope you crave; a handful of loyal friends satisfies me just fine.
Not quite sure I “get” you, but I do find WmWms interesting enough to check in occasionally. I suppose we’re of the same generation and there are a couple of commonalities (wristwatches and Viet-Huong) between us. And I guess this isn’t quite de-lurking since I’ve commented before too, but anyhow, keep writing and I’m pretty sure I’ll keep reading.
I started my blog because, well, because bloggin existed and I thought I’d try it. I once signed on to MySpace, made a minimal page, and then ignored it completely, up to and including the present, even deleting the few messages it got without reading them. But, for no reason I can articulate, I keep blogging. I do enjoy the online relationships which have developed, even the ones which get a bit testy.
I wrote one of those posts this week, and I am proud of it. While it wasn’t my most visited or commented, it made me feel happy, and that’s all that counts.
I am smiling. That alone should scare you.
I’ve actually kept a journal since high school. Its just one of those odd compulsive things – my brain on paper – and I’ve never let another person see or read a single page of my journal. Which makes me wonder why I keep them? I think its so when I’m old and gray – I can read them and remember what I’ve done. Or maybe its my way of insuring my existence after I die? I don’t know. Anyway – several years ago – my friend Laura wanted me to start a blog so she could keep up with my goings-on since we weren’t in the same state anymore. It is interesting – and your absolutely right in your observations. Its like an online ego boost I think – when I see a comment in the bin. I don’t get a lot of comments though – so I don’t really know who all checks my site – its kinda strange to be talking to someone and then they mention something that I’ve been doing… and I’m like… how the heck do they know about that? And then they tell me they read my blog…and I’m like oh… weird. How many folks are reading but not commenting. It is totally an ego-boost though.
Mrs. Chili: I understand. I’m good here with that. I had what I thought were well-founded higher hopes for Dark and Stormy, but it’s not happening. I’m definitely past the understand-the-problem part and into the gratuitous-pissing-and-moaning part, so I’ll stop. I think we all still enjoy it, and that is a validity quorum as far as I’m concerned.
Scott: I appreciate it. Glad to have you.
Gerry: Funny how it acquires momentum, isn’t it? I enjoy the online relationships myself. Everyone who has commented on this post is someone I met online.
Cajunvegan: I like misbehaving smart people.
Sabrina: I should keep a journal, but definitely old-school, with a notebook and a pen. I have posts I would love to write on what I really think of what someone did to someone else, or the rough-edged details of my own personal failings, or (of course) work, off the top of my head. But if they were easily publishable I’d be too afraid I’d have a couple of beers one night and say what the hell on something, and send it to the internets, and then wring my hands for the next two months.
[...] have endeavored to always be honest with you and with myself about that. I wrote a whole post on it once. I like getting compliments on what I put up here. I like looking at my logs and watching my [...]