Friday, 8 July 2011
The story so far... Gina (ex-journalist, new blogger) is disappointed by the lack of comments on her first blog post. But when she reads the kind of stuff that other people are writing and sees the comments they are getting, she is livid. Exhausted, she slumps on the sofa and waits for her husband to get home...
‘I’m in here, on the sofa.’
‘Hi gorgeous.’ I offer him my cheek; I don’t get up. ‘Where’s Benjamin?’
‘Still napping. He’s been upstairs for the last hour and-a-half.’
‘And you’ve been blogging. Let me have a look.’ And he takes the lap-top from me and sits down.
‘This is good. I like this one,’ he starts telling me. But I’m not listening.
‘I think I’ll give up blogging,’ I begin, as much to me as to him. He looks up. ‘No, really; I’m through with it.’
‘Really. I mean, what’s it for? No-one ever reads it…’
‘I read it.’
‘You don’t count. I mean none of the others read it.’
‘The mummy-bloggers, the inner circle, the big blog cheeses with their groups and conferences and PR pitches.’
‘Ah, the Cybermummys.’
And I have to laugh. Even though I want to cry.
‘Don’t you sometimes get that feeling, just occasionally, every now and then?’
‘Not often,’ he replies.
‘Don’t you sometimes want to throw the whole thing out, chuck it in, give it up completely and go into the country and just, I don't know, hug a tree or something? I do. Sometimes I really don't know where the next blog post's coming from; sometimes I really don't think I can compete with the kind of blogs I'm reading - well I mean I can, of course; I sometimes I just don't want to be a blogger any more.’
‘Then what happens?’
‘Oh, I don't know; I get an idea; something happens. Or I get an email; someone offering me something.’
‘And you realise it's actually quite lucrative.’
‘I suppose it is, yes. I do.’
‘And so you sit down at your lap-top and you tap-tap-tap away, and before you know it, you've got another post written and the comments start to come in and the whole cycle starts all over again.’
‘Put like that, I suppose it does.’
‘Of course it does. But it doesn't have to. It's really got you, this blogging thing hasn't it? You're an addict. You can't do without it.’
‘No I’m not. I could give it up right now...’
‘But you can't. Or you won't. It amounts to the same thing.’
‘It doesn't,’ I reply.
‘What it boils down to is you keep thinking about chucking it all in but you never do. And you never will.’
I say nothing; never do. Instead, I turn my back on him and get the lap-top out. After all, there are comments to be written. That’s the way I’m going. If they won’t come to me, I’ll go to them, join in. I’ll comment on everything they’re saying until curiosity gets the better of them and they come looking for me, commenting on my posts. Now, where was I? Ah yes…
They don’t realise how hard it is for me. I feel so tired all the time. It’s so depressing and I feel like I’m missing out on all the fun that Kylie and her mum should both be having.
Now if I just scroll down to the final comment. Yes, there it is again. I’ve found it:
What's up kid? Sending you some positive Twitter vibes...
Do you want to add a comment? Silly question, of course I do. Click ‘Add Comment’. Go.
Aw, hun, it must be awful for you. Here’s sending you some cyber-love. I’m thinking of you. Love, Gina.