Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve come to understand something about the art of blogging. It’s like a relationship. There is the initial honeymoon period where the blog and the blogger go everywhere together. They hold hands, whisper sweet nothings in each other’s ears, have dinner and watch movies together. The blog and blogger, like the courting couple, are inseparable.
Then the honeymoon period ends and things settle down to a more realistic pattern. In an ideal world blogging, like a relationship, becomes a two-way partnership. Both the blog and blogger have laid the necessary foundation for each to flourish semi-independently. But both parties need to work at it otherwise it becomes stale. It’s no use if one is more interested in the partnership than the other. In any relationship this is a recipe for disaster. It gets ugly. Words are said, plates are thrown, blood is spilled. Their people contact your people. You’re fleeced and you’re lucky if you’re left with the shirt on your back. The ex-partner goes off in search of greener pastures. You’re left eating dirt.
With blogging it’s the same, only different. The blogger has written his first blog, spent ages getting the template just right, adding lists upon lists to his blogroll. He feels powerful. He writes like there’s no tomorrow. He notes down ideas every day in his little blue book; ideas that are perfect for the next round of blogs. The blog is empowered by the blogger. It feels a sense of purpose it its existence. It feeds off the blogger’s ideas and delights in sending these ideas out to its many fans.
Then the blogger stops, suddenly and without provocation. The blog wonders what it’s done wrong. Has it been too demanding? Has it not demanded enough from the blogger. It feels taken for granted. It goes off in a huff, giving the blogger the dreaded silent treatment.
I hate the silent treatment.
Then comes the reunion. The blog and blogger kiss and make up. Promises are made; realistic promises at that. No saying yes when you should say no – and vice versa. The blogger tidies up around the place, putting everything in order with a little help from his friends. All is fine and dandy. But the blogger knows that second chances are not to be sniffed at. Like a relationship, if a second chance comes your way, do everything in your power to make it work this time.
That’s what I’m doing. I’m going to make it work this time. And that, my friends, is a realistic promise.