Yesterday I posted a tweet saying that I missed a blog from a professional writer. It’s true I do but he isn’t gone from the blogging world, he’s here and in fact now he has a following of over 100K a month and is doing incredibly well for himself. Why am I sad? Because his voice is gone. His funny, sincere voice, those blog posts with a quick wit that I used to churn through on a bad day when I would curl up on a couch with a cuppa, those posts are gone.
I dug around his new tutorial site and parts of him are still there but my reason for visiting is gone. I’m not a professional writer and sure I could learn a lot from his site but his posts don’t contain the humour or stories of his life anymore. The person he used to share with the world is gone. I can’t tell you how sad I was when I read his reason why. I like to write so I like to keep a blog. I know a lot of people blog for monetization and I can respect that. They blog to grow a following in order to sell something but I’m the type of reader that needs more.
I’ve been following the Yarn Harlot for years. I have a lot of respect for Stephanie and in a way, I feel like I know her even though I have never met her and I probably never will. When I want to curl up with a blog, hers is one of the first I go to. I want to catch up with her life, with those baby knits, I want to see her advent knits at Christmas, I want to know how her cycling is coming along and I like the humour and wit that’s shared along the way. I also like the way her house also seems to have been built by a team of drunken monkeys like mine.
Was I not the type of reader that you cared about?
So many blogs that I used to follow on a Sunday morning with my coffee have gone. I miss those voices and they mattered to me. When I was feeling down or lonely, they were there like an old friend I didn’t need to make excuses for not visiting. Many people stopped blogging when they got busier with social media or their life situation changed and they couldn’t devote the time anymore. Some people stopped because they lost their creativity for a little bit or lost their way but it’s the blogs that changed and became full of those instant tutorial posts and that really hurt. Was I not the type of reader that you cared about?
Why is it not ok to have a small dedicated following? The reader who wants to hear your voice? I’m planting my two feet firmly on the ground and saying I want more. Opening up the newspapers these days is grim, I like to read a good blog that isn’t trying to get me on their mailing list the second I hit the homepage. If you have tutorials on your site as well, good for you! Do those readers convert or are they fair-weather friends who pop in and take what they need and leave you?
If you are thinking “What would I know of blogging, your new etc”. This isn’t my first blog. I had a personal blog for years full of fluffy knits, bad writing and bad photos. I was in my 20’s, I had no children and free time. I liked it but I didn’t love it the way I do now. I get so much more from having a blog now. I get to talk to you and I have made some amazing friends since I started. I have had the zombie parent high five after a week of no sleep, I have gotten the “I love your blog” from people in person that I thought would never read a thing I wrote. This truly makes me happy right now and with it, I have a sort of peace from the insanity of my life.
Who do I blame?
Who do I blame for those blogs that I loved going dark? I blame myself and people like me who didn’t leave a comment or connect with the writer in some way. Did they know how much I loved their work? Probably not because I like to read and leave. I would read, have a chuckle, drink my coffee and leave. So I blame myself that they are gone. Maybe my comments would have made a difference. I took them for granted that they would always be there because they liked to write didn’t they? Consider my lesson learnt. I will comment in future. I promise. I will do my best to connect with those blogs that I read, I will step out of the shadows and be more active because your work matters to me and there are far too few left and I’m scared to loose you all.