“Every job from the heart is, ultimately, of equal value. The nurse injects the syringe; the writer slides the pen; the farmer plows the dirt; the comedian draws the laughter. Monetary income is the perfect deceiver of a man’s true worth.” – Criss Jami
• It’s like asking someone to love you.
As many are polishing and re-polishing their blogs for what 2015 has in store, there are people on the internet contemplating starting a blog. They may be tying up the loose ends and deciding on a template this very moment; or categorizing a host of topics to cover. Some of them are writers, poets, chefs, professional business men and women, teachers, lawyers, publishers, or just people who would like to share their thoughts with the world. Wherever they are we will soon meet them. For this reason there are some tips I think we can all use to help increase productivity, or ideas we would like to share with future newbies or old heads looking to expand and or increase traffic.
One tip I would like to offer from my tiny corner of the Blogosphere is a suggestion: One Reason to Never Ask Someone to Follow Your Blog. While I admire the courage it takes to step out on faith and all, and give it the old college try, personally I think it’s kind of tacky, screams of desperation, and that we’re all worth so much more. I do not want to thrust my words into your mouth and force you to swallow them and I don’t expect to be forced to do the same. I will never write specifically for your approval because I’m not built that way. If you disagree you have a right to do so and on to the next one. But to ask you to follow me is disingenuous. While the person may just follow you because they investigated what made you bold enough to ask and decided they actually want to follow your blog, the offering side of that coin is not so bright. I imagine we all want people to follow our blogs or to interact with them in some way because we all have something to offer. Even if it’s just a blog created specifically to vent, to rant and to rave about how much life sucks, you still have something to offer otherwise you could have just bought a journal and scribbled till your fingers grew numb. But you didn’t. You decided to browse the internet where millions of people live and share your thoughts with them. Call it therapy, or call it a hobby, whatever, but don’t pretend feedback isn’t encouraging for you because otherwise why are you here? My point is that even if you’re content with one follower, I think he or she is worth all you’ve got to give. I’ve had to do lots of things that required an audience and only had a few people to show, but I’ve always believed that no matter how big or small, it was my responsibility as the host to give one-hundred percent. People are drawn to passion, so give them some—but show, don’t ask.
You want people to interact with your blog because something you said drew them in and they simply could not resist themselves, not just because you asked them to. In this way you already have their attention as opposed to trying to grab their attention. You must strive to keep their attention of course, but you do have them in this moment. No matter how weird and quirky you are people like what you have to say. My suggestion is that you grab them first and let them decide if you’re worth following; it makes for a much sweeter victory. Let us fall in love first before deciding whether or not to make this a commitment.
Oh my goodness! Ok, this was much unexpected. I had no idea I would be nominated for a Blog Award and I also didn’t know I would be this excited to receive it. I would like to take the time to happily accept this nomination *waves to the crowd* , and to thank Rebirth of Lisa for nominating me, and to urge yall to run on over there and check her out at: http://rebirthoflisa.wordpress.com.
What exactly is The Premio Dardos Award anyway?
Now, for the hard part. Technically I’m supposed to nominate 15 other blogs I feel are worthy of this award but chances are I’m going to break that rule. I have no idea who to nominate for an award. Guess I should get myself over to these awesome blogs and see whose names to list here. Pardon me if it takes a few days, I’m a little slower than the rest of you people. But, I happily accept this award and the boost of encouragement. Thanks Again Lisa!
Some good blogging advice to take with you into 2015. : )
This happens not to be how I view my blogging but this metaphor is built into every one of our blogs. You’ve all done sales. Every time you’ve recommended a book, movie, or restaurant, you were doing it. And every referral of yours that someone’s followed through on showed either your delivery was good or the product sold itself. Well, here you are self-employed as a blogger, your currency not dollars and cents but time. So why isn’t your blog growing as you’d like?
1. They don’t know you’re there.
I’ve seen you put up 800, 1200 impassioned words and I’d love to see you earn more than four likes. You obviously care about your blog. It looks good. You’re open for business. But it sure is quiet. If your livelihood were at stake, what would you have made sure to do before the Grand Opening and kept up?…
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“Anyone who has ever struggled with poverty knows how extremely expensive it is to be poor.”
– James Baldwin (Fifth Avenue, Uptown. Esquire)
Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And children’s faces looking up
Holding wonder in a cup.
Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit’s still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.
Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be.
“Barter”
by Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
It was in the early 90’s when the image of clowns changed for me. Not that I was much of a fan anyway, but one event made it that much more clear that clowns were creepy little creatures; cowards who hated themselves so much that they hid behind make-up. What grown man or woman wants to bounce around with a red nose? And why do you look like that? Anyway, something was going around the projects about a serial killer dressed as a clown who went around kidnapping children. At the time I was only about seven years old and I can remember being released from school early. Everyone had to have someone to pick them up from school and walk them to their building. While there was no adult to pick me up, being a twin always had its perks; it’s called having a lot of friends. So a large group of us walked home together. I even had a weapon, a super sharp pencil that was prepared to slice and dice the first orange or red Afro I saw coming. It didn’t occur to me that the pencil could break. And how would I sharpen it again? Nope, never crossed my mind, nor did my second grade education prepare me for such an event. I suppose I could just pencil stab him to death, not sure how that would work. Maybe he’ll get lead poison or something, who knows.
According to the rumor, the killer targeted children by standing next to mailboxes and eating bananas. I’m not sure why he would be eating bananas; an obvious indication that someone had probably just watched Stephen Kings IT and made the whole thing up. But that didn’t stop us from believing it. As we walked passed the first mailbox, our hearts caught in our throat, trying to walk as silently as childhood footsteps would allow. In the end we would make it home safe and sound. But when I went to sleep that night there he was, that ugly looking clown. I was looking out the window of Chicago’s Robert Taylor Homes to the building next door where someone else was also looking out the window. Yea you guessed it: the clown. He smiled until his cheeks almost reached his ears and his teeth looked as if he had painted them yellow. Suddenly however, he ran away from the window. “Oh no! He’s coming over!” Before I knew it a clown was in my living room chasing me around the couch. Even though it was just a dream this was a very serious situation. Yea, looks like someone would definitely not be invited to the next birthday party.
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