I mentioned in my last post that I was changing strategy here. This site has always been, and will continue to be, about my effort to complete the list of things I want to do. It has always been personal; I’ve never tried to publicize it, and I’ve never written for anyone except myself. I’ve used it as a development site for my other blog and as an experimental notebook for writing.
My other site has a focus, a very narrow niche. While building that site, I studied what I was supposed to do in order to have a successful blog: Create top-ten lists. Add pictures. Break the text into digestible snippets. Use meta-tags. Don’t use too many meta-tags. Use tags that are meaningful to the reader. Top-ten lists are hackneyed; create top-seven lists. Use post titles that allow people to know what you are saying without making them read the actual post.
While I didn’t follow much of this advice, what I found was that these expert tips are creating a homogenous blogosphere. Go to most any blog and you’re likely to see something like “Top 12 Ways to Let your Hair Down,” with a semi-professional generic photo of a smiling woman exuberantly taking her hair out of a ponytail, and 12 sentences broken into 12 numbered paragraphs, each with their own bold heading.
The vast majority of these blogs are excruciatingly boring. It feels like people have just started copying the easy parts of the expert advice (formatting, SEO, networking), and have completely ignored the hardest part: writing something worth reading.
I was getting a little disillusioned about what these experts tell you it takes to have a successful blog, thinking that if I wanted anything I wrote to actually be read, I would have to start doing exactly what everyone else was doing. Why bother? Why add to the clutter? If I was going to write about something, wouldn’t it make sense not to write exactly the same thing everyone else is writing?
Then, somehow, I started reading Merlin Mann.