Mumsnet Bloggers Network Live Feed Disappeared
I started blogging because I felt like a writer with nowhere to write, so in the absence of a garden big enough for a shed, I built a blog instead.
And six years on, I'm still here. It's nice having a record of how I've grown up, developed my writing, and got my head around various thoughts, feelings and life events.
People sometimes ask me questions about what blogging involves, so I thought I'd share some lessons. If you have more questions after reading this, please do ask them. All (kind) forms of correspondence are always welcome.
1. People are not that nice
If people read what you've written it's because they want to read it. If they don't want to they won't. It's as simple as that. People might give you a supportive click or two at the beginning to help you on your way. But when you're a few months or years down the line, no matter how close a friend/sister/pet they are, they simply won't open your blog unless they're interested. And that's a good thing. Pity reads are no use to anyone.
2. Most of the time, you simply won't know what people think
Unless you're planning to go door to door, asking all your acquaintances if they did or did not click on the link to your latest post about the highs and lows of using a chemical toilet (a real post I remain deeply proud of), you won't know. You might get a like or a comment from a keen and kind reader but there's no obligation for people to give you feedback.
And you're also very unlikely to get personalised notes from everyone who doesn't fancy reading your stuff. Anybody who does send you such a note needs to reconsider how they use their time. Speaking of which…
3. A few people reeeeally aren't that nice
As women messing about on the internet go, I've been pretty lucky on the troll front. I've only ever had two very nasty comments left on this blog. And although I will remember them forever, I think they did me good. Because if you're going to write on the regular and put it out there for people to read, you need to develop a thick skin. (If only, most of the time, to deal with the deafening silence that can follow once you've hit publish.)
You can't spend your time being worried about what a troll might say. The post that encouraged OUTRAGE from my bridge-dweller was about why I recommend giving your partner a sufficient number of bedroom drawers to store their pants. He/she told me to 'PLEASE shut my f***ing blog down'. Sorry, friend. No chance. Where else are people to go for such innovative life advice?
4. Only time will teach you what you've really got to say
It's taken me years to develop my writing style and tone. There was no other way to do it than to just get on and DO IT. I'm not claiming to have nailed it, I just know how I like to write now. And I continue to enjoy experimenting with it, pushing the odd boundary, and finding new ways to express myself. Your blog is your house and you have the floor so use it to get it wrong, get it right, and enjoy yourself along the way.
5. Thanks to blogging, I will never be bored
You know when you used to have to fill in the bit on your CV about your hobbies and scrabble around for something to say that wasn't 'Watching re-runs of Friends' and 'Debating which are the tastiest members of the Percy Pig family'? Well, now I have blogging. Hanging out in my house on my own is never a problem as I can just grab a notebook or my laptop and see what I've got to say. What a treat! Or, equally as fun, I can lie around thinkingabout writing, and then not actually ever get around to it. That's when you know you're becoming a true professional…
6. You have more time than you think
People have different views about how frequently you should blog. I think you should do it whenever you can and you want to. Some people run sites which have advertising and content commitments requiring them to post on a particular basis, but the rest of us can do as we please.
For us it's just about finding time, and what I've learnt is that if you want to do it, you will find the hours you need. Sundays are my usual day for writing, but sometimes I do a little on another day, or I have a whole week off, or I'm inspired to write three posts at once. I think it's best just not to put too much pressure on the whole thing. Your writing will be much better if you're doing it because you want to.
7.Your blog may not become your job, but it might help you get other ones
I get asked a lot about blogging and money making, and this is what I say: This blog is not my job, it's my hobby, it's where I come to be creative, and it's also where I store my portfolio, which I use to seek paid writing work. Although the blog itself doesn't generally make me money (I've only ever done one sponsored post with a brand that fitted in with my subject matter), it has helped me get other jobs.
In order to make money directly from a blog on a regular basis, you need a clear niche that advertisers/sponsors etc. can support. Only you can know your motivations for running a blog, but it strikes me that the most successful ones – whether in terms of reads or money made – came about because people wanted to speak about a particular subject they're passionate about, and then the rest followed.
Don't get me wrong, I'd be delighted to bring home more dollar thanks to this baby, but I don't ever want to compromise what the site is for. It's for honest posts and chats about what it is to be human. (So if you're a brand that'll let me chat about that in return for some ££ and a mention, give a girl a call!)
8. You don't have to be a web designer, you just need patience
Building a blog can be as difficult or as simple as you make it. I started out on Google Blogger as it was free and easy to use, and then as I got a bit more serious about it and wanted my own url, I moved over to this self-hosted WordPress site. It's not fancy and there's lots more I'd like to do with it, but it will do just fine, and I can change it any time I want to (read: can find the strength).
You just have to decide what you want the site to do, and then to work away at bringing it about. I recommend having a cushion set aside specifically for screaming into whilst you build. Believe me, you'll need it.
9. You'll realise there are hundreds of people just like you
Blogging has opened up a whole new world of people and events I never knew I'd enjoy. It made me realise how much I love writing, learning about writing, and meeting people equally excited about all things pen and paper. I'm part of the Mumsnet Bloggers Network and have been to their annual Blogfest three times (my baby is due in November, when Blogfest is usually held, so unless this year's event is happening in a maternity ward, I'm going to have to give it a miss). And I've been to other blogging workshops and talks about creativity that have taught me new things and inspired the sh*t out of me. And I can't recommend that feeling enough.
10. Other people will do much better at blogging and you won't know why
Why a blog is or is not popular can sometimes be obvious and can sometimes totally throw you. I find that if I think I've written something good, it'll fall flat as a pancake. And if I struggle through a post and end up publishing just to justify the hours of blood, sweat and tears I've put into it – even if I think the entire thing is pointless and so am I – people will like it. So what do I know.
I think what's most important is just to keep writing what you want to write. Authentic posts are always the best. Any likes and shares and whatnot they score the writer have to just be a bonus.
11. Writing something people relate to is a high like no other
Having said that, there's no denying the utter joy of penning something other people can relate to. Something that makes them say 'This is what I've been thinking but couldn't articulate' or 'IT'S LIKE YOU'RE IN MY BRAIN' or 'Are you actually monitoring my thoughts because this is so in line with them that I'm genuinely FRIGHTENED'. I cannot pretend that such comments do not fill me up because they do.
12. Writing feeds your soul
I've written regularly for so long now that if I take too much of a break, I start to feel uncomfortable. It's become a crucial part of how I figure out what I think about different subjects. Lots of people say it but it's true – I often don't really know what I think about something until I start writing about it. It's the cheapest therapy I'll ever undertake and I'd hate to be without it.
This game isn't for everyone. Most people would rather tear their hair out than spend their free hours talking to themselves through a computer screen. But we're not most people, are we? This blog may not have made me a millionaire or anything close to one, but it has taught me more about myself and the world than I ever could have expected. And for that I will always be grateful.
So here's to another year of Nothing good rhymes with Charlotte. Knowing how livid this site's continued existence would make our darling troll makes each anniversary all the more worth celebrating.
I spend an awful lot of time feeling like a bit of a dick.
If you say that you like my dress then I'll make a joke about it being vintage because I haven't been able to afford clothes since 2011 – HAHAHA. If you ask if I've lost weight then I'll mock my inability to digest wheat. And if you acknowledge that I've dyed my hair, I'll say "Well, you know, we're married now, gotta keep things fresh!" even though I'm not really sure what that means.
And it would appear that I'm not the only one.
Yesterday I went, for the second year in a row, to Mumsnet's annual Blogfest. You might remember me writing about it last year – it's a day when (mostly) women come together to learn new things about writing and blogging, chat to each other, and hear from a line-up of speakers so brilliant that it's worth getting out of bed on a Saturday morning at an hour normally only reserved for knocking back a couple of much needed post-Friday night ibuprofen. Nick Hornby, Tim Dowling, Suzanne Moore and Lucy Porter – to name just a few – were definitely worth the early alarm clock call.
Networking scares the hell out of me. Walking into rooms full of people I don't know (except in some cases from their twitter avatar, but starting a conversation by telling people you've been 'following' them feels very creepy) and having to make conversation fills me with dread. And worse, I'd paid money to do it. On a Saturday! But you have to remember two things: 1. Most people don't know anybody either and 2. It is completely worth it to speak to interesting people. (And secret option number 3. If it doesn't work out, you can always just hide in the toilet. Though that seems a bit of a waste of £95.)
And I met some wonderful people. Endless interesting women who are all giving the whole blogging thing a bloody good go, often whilst also raising a child or two, holding down a job and managing to stay up to date with major TV box sets. It made my moans about not having enough time to get things done seem pretty pathetic. And I'm still seriously behind with Breaking Bad.
But it saddened me to see how much self-esteem was an issue for all of us. The fact that the round-table discussion on 'Blogging and self-esteem' was so oversubscribed spoke volumes. Dozens of us sat together and talked of fear of judgement when writing about personal things, nasty tales of trolling, and just wondering who the bloody hell we all thought we were for daring to put ourselves out there.
But the good news is that we all still do it. People spoke of comments they'd had from readers saying they'd found their writing really helpful, of using blogging to work through problems in their own lives, and also of all-important bloody mindedness and refusal to stop doing something we enjoy. I can't be sure, but I think Beyoncé would have been really proud of us.
And even if you reach big time stardom it seems that the fear never goes away. 'How to find your funny' – a session on how to make people laugh through your writing – was chaired by Bryony Gordon and brought together Rebecca Front, Arabella Weir and Jon Ronson. All people I like and admire an embarrassing amount. It also introduced me to Kirsty Smith of Eeh Bah Mum and Elaine Miller of Gussie Grips – another two funny women to add to my list.
And though my heart was beating through my chest (I'm surprised they couldn't hear it down the microphone) I asked a question about something that has been bothering me ever since I started this blog: Does the feeling that hits every time you write something and wait to see if anybody likes it or finds it funny – you know, when you just feel like a bit of a DICK – ever go away? And you know what? They said no. Absolutely not. You need that, they said – as soon as you think you're great, you're screwed.
And it really made me feel better. Every Sunday when I write something and hit publish I go into a spiral of self-doubt, regret, and bemusement as to why I put myself through this each week… So it's good to know that even the greats have that feeling too. We have something in common. We'll be best buds before the week is out, I'm sure of it.
And then Francesca Martinez, the marvellous comedian, actress and writer, spoke about self-confidence and self-image so well that I was at serious risk of smearing teary mascara all over my cheeks. She talked about realising that 'normal' doesn't exist, that beauty and success are all social constructs created to disempower us, and reminded us that we have the power to control the way that we think about ourselves. If only I'd been to hear her speak when I was a teenager, I could have saved myself years of angst. That woman is an absolute inspiration. If you ever get the chance to go and see her, I recommend you take it.
Just like last year, this day has done me the world of good. It taught me things, it introduced me to lovely new chums and, more importantly, it made me feel a lot less alone in this little online world. It also showed me that self-esteem is something everybody battles with, whether writing about marriage and relationships and attempting to make jokes about eating too many crisps (that's me for anyone that's new here), or blogging about family or children or, in some cases, even post-labour incontinence. (Definitely not me. Yet.)
So now I shall hit publish and wait for the inevitable feeling of 'dickhead' to kick in. But it's OK; I now know I'm in very good company.
Before you know it, you're an adult. There are a few ways of knowing this has happened to you:
– You need a job to pay for heating, carpets and food you want to consume;
– You're allowed to go out in the evening without asking your mum for permission;
– You enjoy wildlife documentaries.
And all of a sudden, all the free time you used to wish away when you were a child has disappeared. The hours get used up by commuting and cooking and trying to pluck some sense into our eyebrows before you've even had a chance to think about what you might like to do with your life.
In the interests of having a little time each week to call my own, and that was protected from the lure of mopping the floor or attempting to match my freshly washed socks together, I started writing this blog.
It began because I missed writing (I was a newspaper reporter back in the day) and because I thought perhaps there were some laughs to be gained from making observations about extremely mundane things. I'll leave you to decide if that's true.
And many blog posts later, I'm still here, sat in my lounge of a Sunday evening with a Percy Pig egg-timer ticking away next to me, telling me I've got an hour to get this written before the butternut squash I'm attempting to roast for dinner will be done. I am either a model of multitasking or an idiot who really should have started writing earlier, depending on your view.
And every now and then it's nice to meet other people who like to do the same thing. If nothing else it helps one feel a little less mad for spending part of the weekend writing words about handbag contents or people leaving the lights on. So this weekend I did a bit of 'networking' – a word that used to leave me cold until I realised it just means chatting – to find other people who know about this writing and blogging game, and to learn how to do it better.
On Friday I took part in a Q&A with Stylist magazine's columnist Lucy Mangan after entering a competition to be one of ten people invited along. Besides being excited to be in the company of a publication and writer I admire, I was also just delighted to have actually won something. The last thing I won was a set of multi-coloured ring binders from WH Smith when I was 13. To this day that remains one of the proudest moments of my life.
And then on Saturday I ventured out to that Internet powerhouse Mumsnet for its second annual Blogfest – a whole day dedicated to celebrating women's voices and to learning how to use them to best effect.
And I loved both occasions because, aside from teaching me lots of things, they also gave me a chance to face my fears; of speaking to strangers without any of them telling me to bugger off, of daring to call myself a writer, and of asking some famous and talented people for advice on how to do more of it. My palms were both cold and moist throughout.
But I left each event feeling what those of us who use phrases that went out of fashion five years ago would call pumped – both full of ideas and of pride at having done some learning when I could just have stayed home eating Pringles. (And at having the perfect excuse to go home and eat a whole tube to celebrate).
I will definitely be doing more of this; it's amazing what you can fit in if you really want to. I can handle wearing mismatching socks for another week.
Right, now let's make that dinner.
Source: http://www.nothinggoodrhymeswithcharlotte.com/tag/mumsnet/
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