It's a tough thing "success" - it has its pros and its cons.
I use the quotation marks because I'm talking about this blog... for which the word 'success' sounds a bit wanky. And by a bit I mean a lot. I wouldn't go so far as to call it 'successful' because what does that mean, but I would say it is a lot of fun. I started it back some time ago as a bit of a writing exercise, basically to encourage me back into writing for pleasure. On that score it has been a big success - I may write complete tosh but it does bring me pleasure.
The most surprising thing about the whole blog phenomenon is that people read it. I'm a voracious blog reader myself - I love reading strangers' and friends blogs, sifting through their lives and looking for clues as to what is going on in their lives. I'm nosy, basically. But I don't think any blogger, whether teeny tiny like me or one of the big boys, can ever quite get over that feeling of surprise that anyone might want to listen to what are, all too frequently, the ramblings of a madwoman.
Anyway I find the blog counter and the comments people leave more gratifying than I can say but it does have its downside. Because there are certain things I wannt to say on this blog that I can't. Oh of course I can but, I suppose, I don't want to. Because I know who will read it and what they will think...
...Aaaaand now it sounds like I have a dead hooker in my living room and am trying to dispose of her body or something but it's not like that at all. At worst it's that I've fallen into bad habits. At best I'm rediscovering things I had forgotten I loved. At worst there are stories I want to tell about people who might recognise themselves. At best I'm embarassed at the prospect of having to discuss anything I write here with someone In The Real World.
So, please, let's not.
DISCLAIMER: Allow me to reiterate: No hookers were harmed in the writing of this blog.
2 comments:
What is terrible is when you start telling someone a story you reported in your blog and they say "Oh yeah I ...heard about that....somewhere" which tells you that not only are they reading it, but that they don't want to admit to it. Which makes my blog the internet equivalent of the Da Vinci Code. Only less profitable.
You should go see PJ Harvey. I'll come with you.
Will you really observer? I'd love to go but can't think of anyone else who will - shall we go and be angry young girls together?
And thanks anon. I might feel similarly if I didn't know that my parents read it but I WILL try to pluck up my courage and do it... possibly...
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