I spoke on Friday at an event for small business owners in Phoenix. The topic of my talk: The power of blogging for small business owners. This is a favorite topic of mine, as I've practically lived the results and seen great things happen among my peers. I have to try and control my excitement as I tell people stories of how people have gone from office job to guru consultant in 12 to 18 months. Making success sound that easy scares people; it scares me, anyway. And I don't want blogging to be perceived as the Dexatrim of marketing tools--the quick fix, no-sweat-equity solution--despite my obvious excitement. I'm not selling Amway, after all; I'm evangelizing an important shift in media.
I tend to tone it down a bit; I insist that it takes work, time, and resources to successfully leverage blogging for your business before telling my stories of people's meteoric rise--at the very least a boost in the search engines.
Note: While I don't question the permanence of blogging as a media option, I do think that there will be a shift in the attention paid to bloggers, a shakeout if you will, of those who are simply doing this for quick spurts of Google Juice and free iPods from those who have integrated blogging into their lives as a means of authentic self-expression and self-promotion.
Also Note: I couple the words "authentic" and "self-promotion"; they don't cancel each other out. People can and should make money, get press, get attention from their blogs, if they wish. You CAN be an authentic self-promoter, but currently there's little distinction made by the bulk of marketers between people who blog and people who shill. Editorial standards and personal integrity will have to prevail if we are to make the Andrew Keens of the world wrong about blogs being the death of quality media. We'll have to determine which rung of Maslow's hierarchy we're operating from, and if it's a lower one, know it, own it, and expect fewer and fewer links in coming years. At the end of the day, things level out. The cream rises. Paris goes to jail, and the inauthentic lose attention.
I think my approach to blogging inspires the right people. I've had very few people whom I've turned to blogging later accuse me of claiming it was easier than it actually was. Many of the people I've turned to blogging have far exceeded my own personal blogging commitment. I just read Britt Bravo's mention in the local paper as a blogger to watch (this followed her podcast being the top-mentioned in her class on iTunes). I may have helped her to catch the blogging bug, but she was already fairly motivated to transform the world.
A loyal acolyte, my mother, has transcended from fixing the typos on my posts to being the Nana of the Blogosphere. She makes claims that her Google Juice looked like piss in comparison to mine, yet I can't help but notice the rash of loving comments that follow every single blog post she writes--even the ones in which she writes nothing, but posts pictures of cute animals (Ma--don't forget what I said about attribution!) She's starting to embarass me when she says, "I know they're reading you, Sweetie; they just forgot to comment!"
Mom has a lock on engaged readers, which becomes like a drug to a blogger. You keep posting for the same reason you call your mother-in-law every other Sunday; to stay connected. Sometime about a year ago the pangs began for her--the blog guilt that accompanied a perhaps overblown fear that if she stopped the frequency of her blogging she was letting people down. When that occurred I knew that she was on her own, she no longer needed my advice or guidance. I look at her blogroll and feel a bit lonesome, she's found her own blog buddies now. Mom's grown up and made a life for herself on the Internet, leaving me to feel a bit like an empty nester, unsure of what to do with myself and wondering what the next phase of my bloglife will be like. Do I go buy a red Ferrari? Have blog affairs with skateboard bloggers to appear younger and more alive? Do I get to hold a meaningless title on her blog as the person who helped her get started? Will she thank me at the Bloggies? Do I now apply for an early bird special if I blog before seven?
Ironically now that I run a blogging business, I've had less time to blog and read blogs, and I fear, my contributions have become less relevant. I used to joke about it, but the joke is becoming less funny as it becomes more and more true. I find myself in a sad situation, not unlike that of an old fashion designer who, herself, looks like hell while her 20-year-old models shake their asses in front of her. There was a time when I wore what I designed, but lately I just kind of look at what everyone else is wearing and think, that looks so much better on HER now...
What am I getting at? I'm not sure. I think I need to eat more of my dogfood again, even if it means losing even more sleep than I am. Things have been heating up for months now with BlogHer--all good stuff--but the only way I've managed it all is by cutting things out. At first it was small stuff--The New Yorker, wearing ironables. But then I started gnawing on appendages--limiting my blog frequency, then shortening my posts until they looked almost unrecognizable.
I had a moment of clarity this week, when an old college pal, Troy, and his wife, Sherry, came to the Bay Area for a visit. I hadn't seen him in 14 years, and here he was coming out from Phoenix. I picked them up from the Oakland Airport (late, of course, which has become par for my course, and not without the requisite drama of running around my house looking for something decent to wear, realizing I had hardly any cash and that I was out of gas). We had a quick brunch and then I immediately went back to my usual madness. I ended up flying back with them to Phoenix, since I quite coincidentally had this speaking gig in Scottsdale. And nearly every second I was attempting in some way to either prep for work, get my Internet/email connection set up, talk shop, etc. As I sat there with them and their gorgeous little girl named, flatteringly, Jory, in their spotless, peaceful home, doing what I do so rarely now--chit chatting--I thought, These guys must think I'm nuts. And they wouldn't be wrong.
"I read all of your blog posts," Troy, said. And for the first time I was embarassed by that. I felt that for the past six months all that I've written are digital Post-Its from a life in-flux. Gone are the days when I sat in coffee shops on weekends with three hours of time to allow the caffeine to set in and write down what was appearing in my mind. What appears now are to-do's. I've become fairly adept at multi-tasking, combining posts for personal and business purposes and calling it a day. For many bloggers that's fine, but for me--the gal who always sought to keep my content editorially pure--that's sacrilegious. Am I going to suddenly drop everything to blog daily? Nope. But the truth isn't lost on me.
You would think that I would have broken down and wept when H-band announced this weekend that, after three years of coaxing, he was starting a blog. It was tantamount to the daughter of Norma Desmond saying, "Mama, I want to be on Broadway!" I got very excited--after all, what the hell do I DO for a living now but promote blogging and bloggers. I tightened my turban and said what any blog geek would say:
"Let's spend Saturday night setting it up!"
I had to practically blow the dust off my TypePad account, trying to find the right places where H-band could customize his pages and set up his About page.
"I thought you knew this stuff!" H-band said.
"Hey, you want my help or not?" I said.
We set up the billing information.
"I thought you said the basic was free!" he said.
"Way back when, it was." I said, swallowing.
H-band wrote his first post, then searched frantically for his name on Google.
"Where am I? Where am I?" he said.
"You have to give it time," I said. "There are no quick fixes."
"But you said if I started blogging I would show up first on Google!" he said.
Ahh the impetuousness of youth.
Blogging midlife crisis ey? Never thought of it like that. I think I'm at the stage of blogging as I'm at in my life right now. Not quite where I want to be with it yet but still not quite sure how to get there or what it will be when I do.
I guess for you and for your crisis, maybe this blog needs to take on a different direction as your life has in the last year or 2.
Posted by: jen | May 13, 2007 at 05:10 PM
I met your Mom via her blog, and your description is accurate.
Give H-band a treat: buy him a banner AdWords ad (unless he knows they are paid ads - but still would be a nice treat.)
BTW: Son-in-law mentioned there should be a blog for photos of dogs in cones. While we chatted I set up dogsincones.wordpress.com, and he was so excited when he checked the next day and there were six pix.
(Daughter burst bubble by telling him they were from Flickr.) :-)
Posted by: GoingLikeSixty | May 13, 2007 at 07:21 PM
Oh....I loved this. We have GOT to find a way for you to blog more often. I for one can't just take a hit here and there...I need a constant fix of whatever you can muster up. And...I repeat..."I know they're reading; they're just not always leaving comments." Best case....I don't ALWAYS leave comments, and I think you know I read EVERYTHING you ever write...before editing, and after. -xo
Posted by: Joy | May 13, 2007 at 08:07 PM
I'd love it if you could find the peace of mind and the space to sit down once in a while and write something like this. It is what attracted me to your blog when I found it.
And you should know that you are my prime example of somebody whom I like reading because while you don't post that often your posts are worth the wait. I'd rather have fewer posts and more content.
And since I'm reading everything in a feed reader I don't have to go and check who posted and who didn't.
(I also have bookmarked your husband's blog as one to be checked out when I have a little more time. Just so he knows.)
Posted by: Susanne | May 14, 2007 at 01:38 AM
CLASSIC! I'm too new to your blog to fully appreciate your "Blogging Midlife Crisis." If you ask me, you're in your prime. LOVED the writing in this entry. And yes, go get a Ferrari. Why not?!
Also, your speaking gig was a HUGE hit in Scottsdale. Your waves are still rippling out here in the Valley of the Sun. Great content, great delivery, great vibe. Thanks for coming!
Posted by: MaskMan | May 14, 2007 at 04:59 PM
BTW, with or without a blog, I show up first on Google. Granted, it is a resume from 4 years ago.
Thanks for motivating me to finally get a blog up and running. Maybe in the near future I'll be able to take you in a Google Fight!
Posted by: H-band | May 14, 2007 at 09:13 PM
Jory-
Seeing you and meeting Jesse--the pleasure was all ours. Thanks for taking time out of your busy lives to break bread with us, especially during such an exciting and hectic time for you both. Funny, as you were sharing your story in our home, WE were sitting there thinking, "She must think we're so boring!" True, my wife and I may be in a stage of our lives where the river has calmed for a spell (if you can call being halfway through a medical residency and raising a 2-yr-old "calm"), but both Sherry and I know it's only because of the rapids that one can appreciate a good float and the chance it affords to dip some toes in the water once in awhile. (And trust me, it's not all roses and teddybears over here--you should have seen us last Saturday trying to simultaneously pack for our trip, spit-shine our home and keep our Jory from eating her Play-Doh all at once--madness, I tell you, madness). So enjoy the ride, because as the kids these days say (or at least used to), "It's ALL good."
Bestest,
Troy and Sherry
Posted by: Troy | May 15, 2007 at 10:15 AM
Hi Jory!
Ah, the interconnected world of real-life and blog networking.
Troy works on my account @ work and this week we worked on 5 new radio spots for my day job and we got into a conversation about blogging, and I of course told him about my blog and he told me about you.
I LOVE your blog and your passion for the potential, both personal and professional, of integrating blogging into life.
I'll be reading!
Posted by: Kirsten | May 19, 2007 at 12:46 PM
I am a perfect example of someone who reads your blog but rarely comments. I found "Pause" a little over a year ago, when I was still working in an office and longed to be a freelancer. Your "From Here to Autonomy" series fascinated me.
Now that I have my own blog, I totally understand how much bloggers need comment feedback. My apologies for never commenting before, even when your words rang so true in my ears.
As for reaching your blog-mid-life-crisis, everything in life ebbs and flows. Your talent and passion for writing are so obvious on "Pause" - eventually you'll be able to devote more time to it again if that's what you want.
Best,
Kate B.
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