Wednesday, May 30, 2007

The Honeymoon Period

Blogging is a bit like a romantic relationship . . .

First there’s the nervous venture into the interweb. It’s like walking into a bar when you don’t know a soul and putting yourself out there. Only the bar’s dark so you can’t see what anyone looks like. All you want to do is be ‘picked up’ have some attention paid to you - maybe a party pash and go home. Just a little recognition that you are part of the world at large and worthy of knowing. You start with nervous short stories or little vents or little exposes on your life thinking that only the kids will read it or perhaps nobody will notice you swanning around this virtual room.

But people do start talking to you. It’s exciting. You know them all so there’s nothing of real interest but someone’s reading your ditties and gaining a little insight into the ‘you’ that perhaps they previously never had. Then someone links you, then someone else tags you, then you get mentioned on Podcast and all of a sudden you’re a star . . a novelty . . like belonging to your boyfriend’s circle of friends.

You can’t wait to check the comments. You have a few conversations, let a little of yourself go and see what bounces back. Then there’s that nice community feeling where you start to say things that you think others might be interested in because you don’t really want to bore them with your pedestrian problems. It gets even more intense when you single someone out, or others single you out, and emails exchange allowing you a slightly more ‘personal’ slant on the people you’ve been chatting with via the blog. Now you’re among the inner circle – it’s addictive, flattering, euphoric. It’s the heady, passionate phase of a burgeoning relationship. You're allowed into the virtual boudoir for a glimpse of what these people are like outside their bloggy habitat. It’s flattering, interesting and strangely warming and guess what, you begin to really care about these people you’ve never met.

But as with all relationships there comes a time when the first flutter of romance gives way to the realisation that now you need to make a decision. Is this really what you want. Can you make a commitment to this in all honesty? Can you sustain the pace, maintain the momentum, remain of interest or is it the beginning of self destructive behaviour that can cruel so many good relationships. Are you committed or commitmentphobic, in it for the one night stand or the long haul?

This is where I am now. I have emails of the people I care about the most from my blog family so I will always keep in touch. I need the contact and commaradarie I just feel I haven’t got much to say on a daily basis. Maybe I’ll go back to weekend storytelling and, like rationing sex, it might keep the relationship interesting (then again, you might look for yourjollies elsewhere.)

2 comments:

Brian Damage said...

Nice analogy ...

You've read my stuff, and you know what it and I are like. My blog is an extension of my own mind, if people don't want to read about my problems or opinions, then they know where the door is.

The door with Kindly Fuck Off written over it.
Why do I speak of my reqaders in this way? I am not apathetic to them - some bloggers are and I would dearly love to punch them - but I have two reasons:
- When my blog was first kicked into life, it took four months for continuous comments. This leads me on to point number two ...
- So I started treating the blog as an extension of self, and any attack on it could be considered personal on me. I don't take it seriously, but all the same, it could.

No one has to do anything, you don't have to blog, though it's clear from the above that you decided to persevere. Cool. You're the only Antipodean blogger worth reading, in my eyes.

Anyway, I'm rambling, but as you said to me in the past, blogging isn't the be all and end all. Like life, it has its ups and downs.

Baino said...

Thanks matey . . .I was just worried about being pedestrian. I'm prolly the only antipodean blogger you know! Anyway, I'm not commitment phobic so I'll probably keep going.