Brave New Blog World

A few days ago I wrote a post that included this sentence: Change is the lifeblood of the digital age, and regular transfusions are mandatory.

The line referred to recent dramatic changes in the Facebook format, changes which caused an uproar in its community of followers.  But there are some radical, if more subtle, changes in the blog world too and I've been observing them with keen interest.

Here's what I see:

1. A genre of young lifestyle bloggers who are making blogging a profession, not in terms of generating ad revenue, but in terms of selling their message to the world. They talk about relationship, building your strengths, community, writing. They network voraciously, creating and promoting events.
2. A group of slightly older bloggers who are using their blog stories not only to connect with a select group of readers, but as a way to expand their professional horizons and develop new career opportunities.
3. Both groups use social media to the max, posting links throughout the day to their blogs and to other blogs of interest.

When I started my blog in 2006, I quickly connected with a group of women who were writing about their lives, their art, their passions. Blogging was a way to explore and share new avenues of creative expression, whether that was writing, photography, poetry, crafts. It wasn't difficult to find a group of like minded people to learn from and share with. Memes were king in those days, and were a way of spreading the word about your blog to others with similar interests.  Now Facebook and Twitter have usurped that function, allowing you to send links to blog posts over a far-reaching network of people.

My son, who has been blogging in one form or another since 2003, is in the process of "overhauling" his personal blog for the tenth time.  As a corporate webmaster, he knows only too well the importance of keeping things fresh in the digital marketplace. Here at Becca's Byline, I just keep on doing what I do - writing about the intersection of life in general and my own in particular. I'm trying to take some pointers from the young folks. Shorter but more frequent posts seem to be the standard these days, an easy change to adopt. Months ago I purchased my domain name, but haven't been brave enough to switch to a self-hosted sight. I hope to make that happen soon.

Meanwhile, there are so many more opportunities opening up for people who are talented in local search optimization, people who can do local business marketing, or local search marketing.

It's a brave new world out there in cyberspace, and things are always happening to shake it up.

Not so different from life in general, is it?

How about you? Has blogging changed for you since you began? Do you have changes you'd like to make in the way you blog?

Falling

I love fall.

Love red and gold leaves sprinkled like "jimmies" over the lush green grass.

Love the crisp cool mornings that demand an extra cup of coffee after we come in from walking.

Love the long, dark evenings when I can stay home curled under a blanket watching new episodes of my favorite TV shows.

Love pulling on cozy warm sweaters and wrapping soft scarves around my neck.

Never mind the cold rain slicing through the sky this minute.

Never mind that fall means an end to flowers and leaves and picnics.

Never mind that winter will follow on the heels of this, my favorite season.

In just about eight weeks, smack dab in the middle of fall, our family will be gifted with new life.

And the season will never be the same.

I love fall.

Time Passages

It's after 6:30 in the evening and our beautiful fall morning has morphed into an evil dark and rainy night.  I'm sitting here at my computer, surfing the internet, and waiting for my husband to come home from work. If I had a dollar for all the hours I've spent waiting for this man during the past 38 years, I know I could retire to Newport Beach and live the high life.

I'm one of those pathologically prompt people  - I arrive places way too early, just to make sure I'm not late. My dear husband, on the other hand, is not of that ilk.  He waits as long as possible before getting ready to embark on any journey.  Back in the early 1970's when we started dating, his scheduled arrival times were always "between" two numbers, usually within a 30 minute window.

"I'll pick you up between 7:00 and 7:30," he'd say when he called to arrange a date to dinner. "I'll be there between 8:00 and 8:15," he'd promise, when I asked him to drive me to school in the morning. So there I'd sit, all clean and shiny and ready to go.

And I'd wait.

And wait.

Finally, I'd hear the distinctive purr of his 1971 Mach One Mustang turning the corner.  I'd dash to the mirror for a quick check of my hair, rush out the door, and run to the curb so I could jump in the car before he had a chance to turn into the driveway and waste more precious time.

After we were married and he started working, I waited even more.  Seventy hour work weeks were not unusual for young automotive engineers, and he was one to make sure every "i" was dotted, and every "t" was crossed before he left the job site.  I spent a lot of time peering out the window for a glimpse of his car turning down our street.  Sometimes he could call and give me an estimated time of arrival, but mostly I was left to wait and wonder.

Fast forward 35 years, and I'm still waiting. Now at least, I get text messages with updated stats on ETA and drive time progress. I pass the waiting time with Facebook conversations and blog hopping. I get dinner into various stages of preparation, so that I can assemble it quickly when he finally arrives.

And when I hear the automatic garage door start to roll open, I run to the mirror and quickly check my hair.

It's a good thing he's still worth waiting for.

The Fear of Writing

Sometimes writing scares me. I have things I want to write about, exciting ideas that often come to mind while I'm doing something completely un-writerly like grocery shopping or exercising. My heart races a little bit, a shiver runs down my spine. I rummage around looking for a notebook and pen, a leftover to-do list, something to make a note of this amazing idea before it gets lost in the detritus of everyday thinking. Then comes the scary part.

No matter how good I think the idea is, I'm afraid to start writing about it. Afraid to sit down in front of that blank computer screen and do the labor to bring that idea into the world.

What is so frightening? What is it that stills my fingers and pushes that idea to the back of my mind? Is it the fear of failing - that I won't be able to do this thing justice, make of it what I know it could be? Am I worried that this magical notion really isn't magical at all, and that once I begin to flesh it out on the page it will turn into a deformed monster rather than a beautifully realized story?

Could it be that I'm terrified of what I might discover about myself if I go deep enough inside my heart to bring this story to the world? Terrified to take the risk of exposing myself, my talent (or lack of it), my story?

"The risk of writing is an internal risk," says Laraine Herring in her book Writing Begins with the Breath. "You brave the depths of your own being and then bring it back up for commentary by the world. Not the work of wimps. Many writers would likely rather climb Mt. Fuji than go in there, but in there is precisely where you must go. You can't really prepare yourself for what's in there because you don't know all that's in there."

I'm not a mountain climber. Sometimes- especially when it comes to writing- I'm a wimp. I'm afraid of the unknown, afraid of change.

I don't like taking risks.

But I do know that the well of ideas and emotions living inside me need to find their way into the world, need to come to life on the page. And I must find the courage to start putting them there.

Anaïs Nin once wrote this: And the day came when the risk it took to remain tightly closed in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to bloom.

I think I'm ready for that day.

How about you? What fears stop you from writing? Are you able to take the risk and bloom?

Much Ado

There was a huge kerfuffle about the "new Facebook" last week while I was away, and I purposely refrained from joining in because (1) I was traveling and using Facebook only on my iPad which didn't appear to be affected; and (2) I thought the whole uproar was simply much ado about nothing.

Today I logged on for the first time since the big makeover and must admit the complaints are valid. But in the overall scheme of "life in general," changes to the Facebook format are hardly worthy of the hue and cry they warranted last week, so I will restrain myself from further hyperbole on the subject.

Things seem to become blown out of proportion so often in the world today.  It's human nature to complain, and because of things like Facebook we're all able to vent our frustrations more readily. After all, when the Pony Express riders changed their route, or the corner newstand raised prices on the Daily Gazette, any complaints about the matter were likely to remain between families on the homestead or folks meeting up in the general store.  Nowadays, when our social network gets reorganized we have the perfect vehicle with which to voice our displeasure to the entire world  -  that very same social network itself.

However, it's part of the risk we take in placing our personal lives within the framework of a huge conglomerate like Facebook. They have the prerogative to change things up however they please. If you've spent any time on the internet at all in the past 10 years, you must realize it's anything but static.

Change is the lifeblood of the digital age, and regular transfusions are mandatory.

At the risk of sounding like a curmudgeon, perhaps we should marshal our indignation for things that really matter, rather than making a fuss about new Facebook formats.

There is much going on in this world that's worthy of ado. Maybe we should all be about making it.