In the blogging world, individual blogs come and go faster than you can say, “I started a blog yesterday.” But those that survive? That hang on to their little piece of the interwebz, airing their thoughts and dreams for public consumption? All seem to go through the same ten stages of maturation.
1. Self delusion. When you first set up shop in the blogosphere, you’re convinced you’re going to become the next dooce. That readers will flock to your site, crash your server with their effusive comments and send all kinds of national sponsors your way. It won’t be long, you think, until you’re rolling in the cash money.
2. Depression. About the time you write your 45th post and, although you check your page hourly, realize you have yet to receive a single comment, you contract a serious case of the Woe-Is-Me’s. You feel invisible and think seriously about giving up.
3. Joy. Someone commented! Maybe even a few someones! God is good and the world is great! You’re on your way now!
4. Obsession. You begin reading everything you can get your hands on about how to grow your blog. You spend hours commenting on other people’s blogs. You get on twitter. Establish a facebook page. Start participating in memes and blog carnivals. Join SITS. And, of course, continue pouring your heart and soul into every post you write (and you write lots of posts).
5. Relief. All your hard work is paying off! You now have 50, 75…100… maybe even 200 followers. Someone likes you. Indeed lots of someones like you. But…
6. Envy. What did she do to get those 50 bajillion followers? Why does she get 45 comments on every post? You’re just as good as they are. Heck, you’re better. Why doesn’t the world recognize your magnificence?
7. Determination. Dag nam it, you’re going to be one of the A list bloggers if it’s the last thing you do. So you invest in a fancy design. Move to Wordpress. Maybe even seek out a guest post or two. You continue commenting frantically, twittering endlessly and haunting social networks like BlogFrog. Your spouse begins to wonder what your face looks like when not lit by the glow of a computer. Your kids start feeling neglected. Your ass grows, as does your laundry pile. Your blog/life balance begins to feel hopelessly out of balance.
8. Burnout. What’s the use? It doesn’t matter how much time you spend in the blogging world—it’s not like you’re getting anything out of it (except a fat ass). Who are you trying to be, anyway? You’re just a mom/wife/9to5er. No one would even notice if you stopped writing. So you do.
9. Loneliness. You realize how many friends you actually have in the blogosphere. You wonder what they’re up to. You miss your daily conversations. You feel lost. Disconnected from so many of the people who matter to you.
10. Contentment. You return to blogging. You clean out your reader—narrowing it down to the bloggers who actually mean something to you. You post, but not quite as regularly as before. You tweet—probably more regularly—but the emphasis is on cultivating friendship, not grabbing eyeballs. You accept your place in the blogosphere and resolve not to let envy get the best of you anymore.
11. Repeat steps 6-10
We are bloggers. Hear us type.
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