I bought a magazine yesterday morning – a magazine all about blogging. Within it’s pages there are interviews with “bloggers of note”, lots of explanatory articles about what to write about, how to write it, when to write it, where to write it, and all sorts of other rubbish. And that’s just it – it’s rubbish.
Instead of doing what I had intended, and spending an hour visiting some of the blogs covered in the magazine interviews, I fell down a colossal internet rabbit hole (something I’m particularly skilled at, I should perhaps mention), and went on my own journey of discovery. For four or five hours. I’m not really sure how long I spent reading, liking, following, and commenting – but one blog lead to another, and another.
It was re-affirming in all sorts of ways. For the longest time I have wondered if blogging was dead. Maybe not dead, but certainly on life support. It’s probably worth qualifying what I mean by “blogging” – I mean people sharing the days of their lives – posting candid adventures, thoughts, hopes and dreams for others to trip over as they wander past. Anything else isn’t really “blogging” in my mind – it’s certainly something, but not “blogging”.
After a quite marvellous evening spent people watching through the words shared by others, I went to bed having discovered a number of wonderful writers, and wondered if my world might be just a little bit bigger than it had been at the start of the day.
This morning, while I should have been doing something else, I finally took a look at some of the “bloggers of note” in the magazine, and discovered something I hadn’t expected. Yes, their blogs were pretty, and professional, and polished, and HOLY SHIT THEY ALL WANTED TO BUILD THEIR OWN WALLED GARDENS. And you know something else? We’ve all got more engagement between our words and pictures and what-not than any of the “look at my pretty blog” gang. It occurred to me that the little circle of candid story tellers I count myself a member of are doing something right.
We’re not selling out. We’re not trying to create a brand. We’re just telling our stories, and maybe looking for one or two kindred spirits to share them with. We’re not stretching ourselves across ten social media accounts – posting little square photos, self obsessed videos, links to furnishing ideas, or any other bollocks. We’re just telling everybody how crappy our day was, or how (against all the odds) today turned out alright for a change.
Here’s to us, and our stories, experiences, hopes, dreams, disasters, and whatever else we choose to share (you know, instead of packaging, marketing, and selling it).