A few nights ago, Dave and I were laying in bed when I asked him “When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?” Because for the life of me, I don’t remember ever having wanted to be anything. At some point I decided to join the military. And when that career path came to a screeching halt I settled for a sterile life in corporate administration. Thankfully, I fumbled in to construction but it’s been over 2 years now since I took leave of my former project-managing life.
I often think of what I’d tell someone from back then if I ran into them now when asked the inevitable “So, what are you doing now?”
Ideally, I’d respond with fervor expounding on my innovative entrepreneurial strategies; chronicling the ups and downs of paving my own path, blazing my own trails; all the while savoring every last bit of success I’d achieved since last laying eyes on that place. Oh yes, I would wax philosophical about the 1,000-acres journey I’d made mentally from that miserable, browbeaten girl paid to cater and kowtow to Dr. Jekyll’s and his confidante, Mr. Hyde’s every whim.
And surely, they would see just how far I had come, how alive I felt and how prosperous I was. I mean I have a website and a fan page. (snort)
But the truth is I have a website and a fan page. Big freaking whip. If you listen to a handful of the top internet marketing gurus ANYONE can start a webpage. And it’s not like Zucks & Co are all that selective in whom they allow to man a dedicated page for self promotion. So what the hell would come tumbling off my lips if I was standing face to face with a ghost from my past inquiring about my present?
“I’m a blogger,” I’d meekly say.
And I’ll tell ya, if I was on the other side of that conversation my immediate and unfiltered response would undoubtedly be “What the hell is a blogger??”
In a vain attempt to weasel myself out of this highly anticipated scenario (I’m contemplating leaving the house a few more times this year than last) I’d like to answer my own question.
When I first decided to start a blog I had no clue what a blog was. What I wanted was a way to stop posting my project photos over and over when Facebook friends asked what I was working on. Mind you, the majority of these people lived within a 5 mile radius and could have stopped over to see for themselves. Hell, just cruising past the house between 9:00 am and 9:00 pm they’d have been able to sneak a peek at the goings-on inside the garage. But people are lazy. They want the garage to come to them.
Initially, I started a group where all of my buddies could chime in and share photos of their projects. But I quickly realized I was the only creative one in the mix, sharing what I was doing with the same four people responding ‘boy, I have no idea how to do that but it looks great!’ Not exactly the camaraderie I was hoping for.
Somehow I stumbled upon an article riddled with bullet points of dos and don’ts and ins and outs of all things blog. The website author rambled on in total geek-speak and his ‘About Me’ picture was a professional headshot not a selfie edited to include balloon hearts and glitter. Seemed legit. So an hour later I’d followed all his advice, shelled out $200 and deeconstructed.com was born.
Yeay! I have a blog! (crickets) Now what the hell do I do with it?
Turns out a blog is supposed to be about something. And not just random any things but a very specific, tailored culmination of certain things that are unique yet intrinsically related. In layman terms a blog should fit a niche. And the blogger should have a distinct voice. Crap. I thought I just needed a catchy URL name. It’s really no wonder my soapbox on the world wide web sat dormant for a good week between launch and initial firing-up. I had no freaking clue what I was doing.
I spent those next 7 days expanding my vocabulary. I added a plethora of acronyms to my literary arsenal. I learned real quick what a bitch Google is and how she bullies everyone into voting her prom queen. It didn’t take too much longer to understand that Facebook is a punk ass pimp and the rest of us his bitches. And Pinterest is the brainchild of a virtual Heff only it doesn’t come to you wrapped in a black plastic package.
But you still have to hide it from your spouse and neighbors.
When I finally hit ‘publish’ on my first blog post I was already contemplating begging The Jek’s for my old job back. It’s not that I dislike sharing my projects with a multitude of strangers. I actually enjoy coming up with witty headlines and snarky text. I compose most posts three times over in my head during the course of a project. But it’s taxing to remember to stop halfway through a project to log a “How To” video for the YouTube channel. It frustrates me when I’ve got a desk three-quarters of the way apart before realizing I forgot to snap a ‘Before Photo’ to tweet out. When I review the evidence and realize I painted a chair three different colors before finding the most pinnable hue I’m ready to cry. Seriously, blogging about my projects takes longer than the projects themselves.
Why do you think my floors haven’t been mopped in a year?
Sure, with practice it got easier to keep track of my blog agenda while I worked through projects but making time to sit down and pull a post together proved more difficult. See, it’s not enough to do the work and then type about it. No, you have to market your brand – engage others in your niche and stroke their egos so they, in turn, will gush all things good in return around the web community about you. If you think my biggest reward would be a job well done then you severely underestimate the power of the highly coveted backlink.
And what we’d give for you to leave a comment.
Bloggers have to connect with fans in social media-land and remind you we exist, constantly feeding you morsels of our unique awesomesauce. And then there’s email. It’s a written blog rule that we must reply to all correspondence received. ALL.OF.IT. Even if I think it might be spam.
Seriously, I miss getting pushed around by an asshole boss more than I miss keeping track of my inbox. What the hell did I get myself into?
This is a thought I’ve thunk more than a few times in the last 15 months. And, if a former coworker inquired about my new gig it’s what would come to mind just before I told him I was reading architecture and design articles and power tool instruction manuals. I’d mention the hours I’ve wasted at thrifts imagining new life into old crap. Then I’d mention knowing what phrases people use to search the ‘net looking for answers to their home improvement questions. I’d laugh and say how funny it is that someone found my site after searching “cool x husband”. If I wanted to be smug, I might mention being on-set of a popular tv show and rubbing shoulders with famous people turned house guests.
If he had time, I’d go on to explain why certain friends regularly show up in his newsfeed while others vanish into the ether and why he has seen this stupid video shared twelve times in the last two hours. I doubt he’d care about analytics, conversion rates and white balance but just in case he had any interest in linky parties or sponsorships or the origins of the hashtag, well, I could fill him in on all of that too.
Because when I secured my domain I took on many roles. I am now a writer, carpenter, photographer, painter, webmaster, researcher, socialite, salesman, and marketing/public relations manager.
But I doubt I’d say any of it. I’d probably just smile and say “I’m a blogger” and hand him my business card telling him to check out my website or fan page.
Who has that kind of time to chat when there’s stuff to create?
~dee
Visit DeeConstructed for more DIY home decor project ideas.
What the Hell is a Blogger? originally appeared on deeconstructed on January 14, 2014.