Hey Mr. [redacted],
Remember me? We met at an event on Thursday night before a social media conference. You were there because you had a VIP ticket—boy did I not realize just how much of a VIP you were.
I walked up to you and introduced myself, because that’s what I do. I’m friendly like that. You explained how you ran blogging conferences yourself, to which I replied, “Hey! I’m a blogger!” You told me to come to a conference sometime. Sweet.
Then came the red flags. You immediately asked for my blog reach. Not the name, not the topic, but the reach. Who asks about reach? Did you also want to know my salary and weight and marathon time? No…just, no. But rather than abandon ship right then and there, I told you. To which you replied, “Oh. These conferences aren’t for you. They’re for advanced bloggers only.” Um, come again?
I kept my cool and listened to you talk. I absently nodded while you carried on about how real bloggers offer readers something of value. Bad bloggers have “me” blogs—they only talk about their lives and experiences and no one cares. Those blogs are a waste of space. And Disney runners and bloggers? They’re all shit.
I half-heartedly countered you on a few points, but I was honestly thinking more about what to cook for dinner and how I can take your small ass down in an instant than listening to your sales spiel. I had checked out by that point. I don’t do crazy. It wasn’t until I stepped outside that the full impact of our conversation hit me. And by the time I got home, I was like the Tasmanian Devil—ready to destroy anything and everything in my path.
So, listen up asshole. I am well aware that my blog can be perceived as selfish or narcissistic. I write about myself. Don’t fucking read it if you don’t like it. I get that I’m not your target market. I don’t have the 50,000 views/day that let me into your elitist club. Does your clique wear pink on Wednesdays, too? At the moment, I have no desire to make “hundreds of thousands of dollars” (your words, not mine) by writing a how-to textbook. That’s boring and not me. So I should take everything you told me with a grain of salt. But you’re still walking around running your fucking mouth and spewing complete bullshit, so it does affect me. And you will hear about it.
People blog for a variety of reasons. Yes, some do want fame and fortune and therefore write every post with that as their end goal. Those folks are the ones who may attend your socialite parties. There’s nothing wrong with that. Others, like many bloggers in Birmingham and I, blog just to have a place to capture all the thoughts flying around our heads. And we hope that by sharing our experiences—however random or boring they may be—others can relate or learn from them.
Some blog posts should be informative, yes. They may get a lot more traffic and back links, yes. But if readers only wanted to read “How to Run Efficiently” or “10 Ways to Tie a Shoe,” they’d pick up a fucking book. Or go to an informational website, not a blog. Blogs capture emotions. They allow us a glimpse into other peoples’ lives and show us that there’s someone else out there who is is sharing a similar life experience, or one that’s completely different and intriguing. If a “me” blogger reaches just one person and makes an impact through telling his or her story, it makes it all worthwhile.
Let’s apply your logic to life, shall we? So anyone who isn’t elite at what they do shouldn’t enjoy it as just a hobby, yes? If you’re not an NBA player, don’t bother playing a pickup game over the weekend. No 4-star chef rating? No restaurant or food truck for you. Back of the pack runner? Might as well keep your ass planted on the couch. What a lovely world to live in.
You, sir, do not get to determine who is and isn’t a good blogger. But if you want to play that game for a moment, let’s. Your blog? It sucks. Badly. Your views are questionable at best, your writing style is abrasive, boring and uninviting, and you have grammatical errors all over the damn place in your posts. Oh, I checked out your Twitter feed and you can’t use social media for shit. Social media is just a megaphone, right? No need to actually talk to people on social media, just yell at them and tell them how much their blog sucks. Yet you’re successful. Color me confused.
Oh, is this what you call success? Unengaged Twitter followers?
Unlike yours, my audience is full of real people – not robots
You know, my friend, maybe my blog will reach 50,000 views/day at some point. Great. Or maybe it will taper off to 50 views a day. That’s fine too. I blog for myself, and, unlike you, I don’t care about the numbers or how much money I make off ads.
Please don’t mistake the reason behind my anger. I give zero fucks about what you think of my blog. Hell, you didn’t even know my name at the time we spoke (though you did find it out the next day and you may be reading this now). I am angry at the opinion you have about bloggers. You have a right to your opinion, but it still infuriates me. And you’re in a position of power. People seem to listen to what you have to say. And if you’re calling people’s work a waste of time and effort, that’s not OK. Who knows how many beginner bloggers you discourage from continuing with their passion?
For any bloggers or bloggers-to-be reading this, hopefully this has been a lesson in having the wherewithal to tune out people like Mr. [redacted]. People are entitled to their opinions, but let’s face it, WordPress, Blogger, etc. are all successful platforms because of people like you and me. There’s plenty of room on the Internet, and it’s important that you know it’s OK to put your thoughts out there and not give a fuck about judgemental idiots who think they’ve got it all figured out. They don’t, and you need to just ignore them.
So I’m speaking on behalf of all the bloggers in the ‘Ham when I say get out. We don’t need your negativity. And we sure as hell never want to attend your conference.