So far I’ve said that the reasons people enjoy reading diarist blogs are 1) we can’t help but like to compare ourselves to others, 2) we are voyeuristic, and 3) we are all connected and therefore feel drawn to one another’s personal lives.

My discussion with Colin about all this started with me talking about my blog, how I wanted to define it and how I didn’t want it to be a diary of any sort but rather something with more of a purpose. But then I realized that the blogs I enjoyed reading most were the well-written personal ones, and that it was okay if mine was like a journal. As for other personal blogs, do I care that H had muesli with rice milk for breakfast this morning? No, but I cared about what she was thinking while she ate that muesli! Why? Because I loved the way she wrote about it, and I could relate to what she was thinking and could appreciate her perspective on the matter. Thus, to me, these blogs have value. Colin doesn’t see it.

I think I may have some valid reasons here, the three above-mentioned ones, as to why there is a niche for personal blogs, but my husband is not wholly convinced; or, rather, he still can’t see the value in them. Colin prefers reading strictly for (his version of) edification — that is, he reads tons of personal development advice given by self-help gurus on success, health, and happiness. That all has its place, sure, but not in this blog!

Truthfully, I really can’t stand that stuff much. I don’t like to read advice written by people who’ve got it all down pat, who are making a bazillion dollars, who seem
(based on their style of writing) to find everything they write about ridiculously easy, even though they say it takes work. The understatement there is enormous. I find it easier to be a realist (I have no money, I have no work, our credit’s run out because of me: how can I find work and money fast?) than try to lie to myself, for example, that I don’t need money so I need to stop thinking that and then more money and work will come, or if I just change my thinking in general, everything will be hunky dory. And, oh, by the way, changing your thinking really means simply tapping into your subconscious and changing that, because even if you’re consciously thinking everything’s lovely and you really really do want to lose weight or be rich, your subconscious may be sabotaging you. The sneaky bastard.

That’s not to say I don’t put stock in any of this sage advice. I know it works and I’ve seen it. The authors of these books and blogs and websites are proof themselves, as are their many followers. I just personally find it easier to do things the hard way.

And because I have a different experience, because I’m not the same as Colin and we don’t think the same or value the same things, and because I’m human too, there might just be others out there like me. I have been trying to find a focus for this blog, even as a personal one, mainly because it’s been suggested by blogging gurus that you don’t just want any old reader for your audience. You need to determine an audience and work to that end. I am still working on that. But for now, the comments I’ve been getting are that people find my “personal development” interesting because I’m honest and they can relate or I stimulate their thinking on issues they haven’t thought of before or I offer different perspectives: the same reasons I like to read personal blogs. I include everyday experiences like those about library patrons way back when and my friend’s blessing way and not telling my neighbour his car window was down in a twelve-hour downpour, because those are also part of who I am, the person who’s developing over the course of this blog. Of course, I want my blog to be educated and not some idiotic boring blog about what I squashed in the garden yesterday. I will find many topics to write about (e.g., vegetarianism, dog etiquette, the value of personal blogging, etc.) because I’m not a vacuous moron who’s too stupid to do anything of my own or who never thinks about anything of import. But I don’t want this to be a formal self-help blog, or a blog solely about freelancing or how to optimize your readership. Not that there’s anything wrong with those types of blogs, or those topics, about which I’ve written. But here, I will probably lose pretty much everyone (all five or six!!) who reads this if I change it to have such a narrow focus. And it wouldn’t reflect me. Basically, this is a writing exercise for me; that’s why I began blogging in the first place. I need to write well but also when I feel like it and about whatever I feel like. That’s sometimes simply what attracts people; good writing that makes them laugh or think. I’m thinking out loud. It’s a monologue, but not quite, because I’m aware of a reading audience that can become emotionally involved, as though reading a book, or end up asking themselves the same questions I ask. I can write about my struggles as a freelancer, and about things that I learn along the way, or about blogging, but in general, people are simply people watchers, so I keep it general: I write about me.

What is the news if not stories about people’s lives, the disasters, triumphs, injustices, discoveries, and even, and perhaps especially, the fucked up, like that Austrian dude who imprisoned his daughter for 24 years and raped her to produce 7 or 8 kids, one of which he incinerated on its death shortly after birth, and his wife “had no idea”? Why is shit like that news? Because it’s simply about being human. We are horrified but morbidly drawn to things like this. As a connected species, we are obsessed with life on this planet. Our art imitates it, our documentaries document it, our blogs tell it.

So I come to the conclusion I already knew when I started but hope Colin can by now appreciate (knowing he reads this blog even if he doesn’t understand why, and it better not be only to check that I’m not writing bad things about him!): there is indeed a niche for blogs like dooce, like I think this world is perfect, like mine, even if they are not specifically focused on some typical self-help topic and have sometimes seemingly “useless posts.” In fact, these personal blogs are unique: they are literally self-help: a sort of catharsis for the writer or an exercise in practising good writing — rather than something written by someone who stands to gain only money from it and nothing more seeing as they’ve already perfected what they’re “selling” — and are edifying in their own way, valuable, and even helpful to the readers.



2 Responses to “are personal blogs valuable? (part three)”  

  1. 1 steadybeat

    I agree with you on that. Personal blogs are, in my opinion, the most entertaining.

  2. Steadybeat: Thank you! I’m glad you agree. I sometimes struggle with feeling of “it’s *only* a personal blog” but then I think, it’s perfectly all right; even if no one reads this, it’s valuable to me as a place at which to sort my thoughts!


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