My secret to successful blogging.

There comes a moment in a blogger's life - it might just be one day, it might be a whole series of days. It might be a whole series of weeks, or months - when that blogger looks at his or her stats and realises that basically all of their visitors are themselves. It's like standing in the middle of a room on your own with a cup of tea and calling it a party. In many ways this is the lonely lot of the writer - one writes, it gets published in some form of another, and that is it. It's a conversation of sorts, a vague interaction, but no real interaction. There's no talking back, unless you work on a magazine's website in which case there will be 17 comments by home time but that's just three crazy people who have their cats or children as profile pictures arguing with each other.

And I'm not fishing for compliments here - I hate fish - just tellin' it like is, keeping it real. We tell ourselves we don't care, but we crave the attention. There's no other real reason I would write these things for a whole series of years - people are often incredulous when they talk to me about my blogging, or my twittering - why would I want to share things so publicly or open myself up to such ridicule or something and whatnot. I know people who blog and I know people who don't - it amazes me the people I've known who have started blogs, they've started twitterising and they just haven't had the stamina to get through it. They last weeks. And here's me, plodding along, talking to myself in my own party. With a cup of tea.

Why have I carried on whilst my compatriots have fallen by the wayside? Aside from my high level of basic talent and obvious appeal across a wide range of discerning, humourous consumers, it's pure ego. That and having a lot to say about nothing in particular. Or rather nothing to say about a lot in particular. And that's my secret to successful blogging.