Don’t Go Slick
Updated at the bottom
Have you ever read a post where someone said something so perfectly that you actually spun around in your spinny office chair like Alex P. Keaton when he was high on amphetamines in the “Speed Trap” episode on Family Ties? This post is one of those posts.* (A heads up: she is currently pregnant and mentions it in the post.) Especially when she wrote,
Blogging has so evolved since when I launched this blog. When I started blogging a few years ago, there was no Pinterest rabbit hole of perfect spaces and beautiful things to covet. And it seemed like many bloggers, besides a few established ones, were more rough around the edges (in a good way) — posting inspiring, informative finds that included some posts from their own home and life adventures. The photos weren’t always perfect. The posts didn’t have Photoshop layouts and cool type layered over images. More blogs felt like online journals to me, rather than mini online magazines with staged shoots and recurring features.
I don’t spend a lot of time on Pinterest, maybe because I don’t believe that living aspirationally is the healthiest frame of mind (and believe me, if I let myself go there, I could see myself falling into a state of coveting). I don’t want to aspire to be something different or have my house look different or have my life be different, except in ways that a magazine or blog or pinboard can never direct. (Unless, perhaps, I am mistaken and embryologist Michael Tucker has a Pinterest account?) I don’t want to live in a constant state of searching for something.
I’m drawn — like the author of that post — to blogs that have rougher edges.
I guess what I’m saying is please don’t go slick.
Please don’t try to put together the perfect blog, with the perfect layout and the perfect accompanying photographs. Place on the screen whatever is in your head, whether it is pretty or boring or strange or upsetting or inspiring. I read your blog not because I need good ideas or I need to be inspired; I read your blog to connect with you, the author. To try to understand another person’s world and have my own viewpoint expanded. And yes, ideas and inspiration come from that organically. It isn’t fed to me, but rather, it’s something I find. Like stumbling into a field of wildflowers rather than a cultured garden.
It feels as if there has been a lot of blogging attrition this year, a lot of posts where people write that while they don’t want to give up writing their blogs, blogging has become too difficult. Twitter and Facebook are easier; faster. There is no stressing about the quality of the paragraphs or the lack of visual accompaniment. And that is true. Except that we don’t have to let blogging go slick. We can, as the author above states, take back the space and say that it’s great that all these trends exist, but we don’t need to participate in each one.
I’ve been blogging for almost seven years. I’ve seen a lot of trends come and go. A lot of memes pass through the blogosphere. A lot of hot sites sizzle and burn out. And still, I plod along. Word-focused post after word-focused post, just as I did back when I first started blogging and had no clue how to upload an image. As a reader, I am still drawn, after all this time, to a good story. To a smart turn of phrase. To an interesting analogy. That is what makes me read a blog.
Which is not to say that other people aren’t drawn to stylized blogs. But I did want to point out that there are at least two of us out here looking for the interesting find over perfection. Just in case you were stressed out and not writing because you don’t know how to make your blog mirror what you see on Pinterest.
Truly, read her post in full. It’s that good.
* I was not high on amphetamines like Alex P. Keaton when I wrote that.
Update:
I put this in the comment section below, but thought I’d move it into the bottom of the post since I think it keeps coming up.
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I think some people have touched on something here. I see a big difference between taking care of your space (I really wish I was the type of person who had a neater online space that did more “things.” I don’t know what those things would be, but just more of these amorphous “things.”) and making a space slick.
There’s a difference between people who document things they would be doing regardless of whether or not they had a blog. One my favourite food blogs is Half Baked Life (http://ahalfbakedlife.blogspot.com/) because she not only posts good stories with her recipes, but I also get a sense that all this food would be made and consumed even if she wasn’t recording it. It would be called dinner. But because she has a blog, she also documents it and gives us a recipe. So it’s a win-win.
But then there are others who you sense would not have done X if not for their blog. If they didn’t have a blog, they would have just made some cupcakes, served them, and been done. But because they have a blog, they had to create tiny toppers to go on each cupcake shaped like their favourite characters from favourite books. And they had to serve these cupcakes in tiny champagne glasses that have been wrapped with cloth and ribbon to resemble open books. And they had to have all their friends eat them while they laughed hazily in the background while the cupcake is in sharp focus in the foreground.
It all comes down to a spidey sense. I know people who make insane cupcakes like that in their day-to-day life… and they don’t have a blog. So I know those people exist. So it all comes down to a gut decision — do I think this is a reflection of your life, or do I think this is a life created for a blog? And I recognize that this may mean that I misjudge people all the time.
But I do feel sad when a blog goes slick. A favourite blog of mine went slick a while back. I miss reading it, but I’m also fairly aware having known how the blog used to be that I’m looking at a life created for a blog vs. the other way around.
I don’t mind sponsored posts at all, though I do sometimes think they can become (for some people) a gateway post much like a gateway drug to slicker things.
29 comments
Yes! That’s it exactly. I don’t really gravitate toward the slick blogs, and often find myself skimming over the few that have been added to my reader. The ones I never miss are ones like yours — ones where I look forward to the stories, the thoughts, and the imperfections of the author.
Make that THREE of us who prefer content over style. I have an inkling there are even more of us lurking about!
Three of us — do I hear four, four? Is there a fourth out there who wants to read imperfect posts?
Oh, totally me. Next to sponsored posts, super-slick/staged photography is probably my biggest turn-off.
I read for content. I read for entertainment. I read because I’m interested. I am upset by Mental Floss because they have slicked up their blog and I don’t like the new format (mostly because it’s all f’ed up in my reader). Here’s how I know I’m a content reader – I read almost everything in my Google Reader, and only click over to the blog if I want to comment.
I don’t mind sponsored posts, because people need income streams, but I’ve seen examples of how that can be done well and with content.
I am so glad you want to read imperfect posts. Mine certainly are! I write something usually as I’m forming the thoughts, often as a way to form those thoughts. I don’t illustrate. Sometimes I forget to spell-check.
And your words explained exactly what draws me to a blog, so I’ll be lazy and just copy and paste:
“As a reader, I am still drawn, after all this time, to a good story. To a smart turn of phrase. To an interesting analogy. That is what makes me read a blog.”
This makes me feel better!! My blog is so far from perfect lol. I try to make it cute looking but that’s because I like cute stuff. My pics are far from perfect and I’m not eloquent at all lol
Amen to this! I definitely am drawn to and would choose an imperfect post over a slick one most of the time (I can’t say all the time, as now and then I do like to look a pretty layouts and such, but they don’t hold my attention for long).
Sometimes when I do somewhat random things on my blog, like I did today, such as posting a term-paper that I wrote in high school (about Jodie Foster, in light of her acceptance speech on Sunday at the Globes), I wonder what my readers will think and if doing so what a “good idea.” But this post reminds me that it is my blog and I can write about what I want, when I want.
Thank you. Now clicking over to read the post that inspired this one.
Here’s another person who you won’t find going all slick and pretty. While I like the idea of it (maybe even covet it a bit?), I’m just not that sort of person. I do like looking at the pretty sites (not too often), but I definitely gravitate to the blogs where I learn more about the people behind them.
I do like Pinterest on occasion, but that is mostly to get ideas to do my own crafts, baking, etc.
I’m with you…I love the blogs that “keep it real” & it is what I have attempted with my blog. When I get caught up in “am I good enough” I remind myself that 1st & foremost, I blog for me & the audience is the gravy to that. & it is in that frame of mind that I end up writing my best posts! So too for me it is the “good story” that I look for in other blogs
Mel,
Thank you so much for this! I’ve wanted to start blogging to connect with others re: infertility, egg donation, and parenting infant twins
But the tallest hurdle has been my inability to spend the time to create a beautiful blog page right now. But I do love to write and hope to start blogging regardless of how plain or boring the page looks.
Yes, yes, yes. : ) While I appreciate good design principles, and love to see people’s photos, that’s ultimately not why I read blogs. Like A above, I do most of my blog reading through Google Reader, so unless I click over to comment, I never see the design anyway.
I read to follow people’s stories, and to revel in the writing — and I’m not saying every post has to be an overall masterpiece to hold my attention, either — an original idea that makes me go “hmmm” or a funny story or a great turn of phrase can all make me sit up and pay attention and want to comment or write my own post in reply.
Three cheers for imperfect posts. “Make blog nice” has been on my to do list for almost as many years as I’ve been blogging, and I just can’t seem to make it a priority. Not because I don’t care. Not because I’m not sick of my generic 5 yr old blogger template, but because when I do squeeze out five minutes to focus on the blog, I want to do just that. Blog.
This isn’t a diss on the many, many ladies who have put hours effort into doing what I haven’t done. I love hearing about people who really and truly own their own space and self-host and are webmistresses in every sense of the word. I think those efforts are a little different than the ones you shy away from here.
yes. Yes. YES!
I blogged way back in the dark ages of 2006, and then in 2008 I took a break. When I came back near the end of 2009, it was much harder to find the blogs that drew me to blogging in the first place – the storytellers who were sharing bits and pieces of their lives and thoughts.
Those slick blogs are beautiful, but if it is all beauty with no substance, I don’t spend very much time there. I’m looking for words and connections.
I understand this. The blogs that I read most are the thoughtful blogs where I feel like I find something I can relate to or think about. They are always word focussed. I wonder if it’s something like my feelings about people, appearances and really knowing people. I like people who make mistakes and admit them, I like to see the mess behind a person and their life. Anyway, once more I go away with something to think about. x
Like “a”, I read mostly in my reader. I click over to read if it’s a blog that only gives a snippet, but for those that don’t, I click over if I want to comment. It means that if I comment, it wasn’t just an “I was here” type of thing – I actually had something to say, and to me, that’s important. It’s nice to know you’re being read, but…
Like Mali, my thoughts stream as I write. I often have a topic, something bothering me, that I want to get out of my head, but it’s rarely already written in my head. I sit down, put hands to keyboard, and just start writing. It’s rough, most definitely rough. But? It means you’re seeing ME. I didn’t take the time to think it through and polish it. Quite often the endings are abrupt because I just couldn’t figure out how to make it a smooth ending, but that’s just me too.
I don’t read slick blogs. I read “real” blogs – the ones where people are telling me about their life. The occasional sponsored post is fine, but I don’t want to hear about products. I want to read about your life. I think a person’s blog should be an indication of the person writing it. 🙂
What count are we up to? Eleven, fifteen, twenty-three? Count me among them.
Loved this from her post: “”Perfection comes at a price of real authenticity.”
I prefer real, too.
I think some people have touched on something here. I see a big difference between taking care of your space (I really wish I was the type of person who had a neater online space that did more “things.” I don’t know what those things would be, but just more of these amorphous “things.”) and making a space slick.
There’s a difference between people who document things they would be doing regardless of whether or not they had a blog. One my favourite food blogs is Half Baked Life (http://ahalfbakedlife.blogspot.com/) because she not only posts good stories with her recipes, but I also get a sense that all this food would be made and consumed even if she wasn’t recording it. It would be called dinner. But because she has a blog, she also documents it and gives us a recipe. So it’s a win-win.
But then there are others who you sense would not have done X if not for their blog. If they didn’t have a blog, they would have just made some cupcakes, served them, and been done. But because they have a blog, they had to create tiny toppers to go on each cupcake shaped like their favourite characters from favourite books. And they had to serve these cupcakes in tiny champagne glasses that have been wrapped with cloth and ribbon to resemble open books. And they had to have all their friends eat them while they laughed hazily in the background while the cupcake is in sharp focus in the foreground.
It all comes down to a spidey sense. I know people who make insane cupcakes like that in their day-to-day life… and they don’t have a blog. So I know those people exist. So it all comes down to a gut decision — do I think this is a reflection of your life, or do I think this is a life created for a blog? And I recognize that this may mean that I misjudge people all the time.
But I do feel sad when a blog goes slick. A favourite blog of mine went slick a while back. I miss reading it, but I’m also fairly aware having known how the blog used to be that I’m looking at a life created for a blog vs. the other way around.
I don’t mind sponsored posts at all, though I do sometimes think they can become (for some people) a gateway post much like a gateway drug to slicker things.
I completely agree. I’m torn between making my blog a real business and using it as a means of personal expression that sometimes helps and inspires. I have a small revenue stream from it, and know how to make it a money maker, but you know what? I don’t want to. I want people to visit to be surprised at what I’m posting that day. It could be anything, from finding sparkles on potted roses to a juicing recipe to yes, a sponsored post OR something on time management, aging or finding your authentic self. I don’t have a huge following, wish I did, but those who do follow enjoy and that means something. Oh yes, feel free to visit, too! http://www.middle-aged-diva.blogspot.com
I read both slick blogs and unslick blogs and read them for different reasons. I don’t expect everyone to be Pioneer Woman or Young House Love; I don’t want everyone to be like them. As with so many things in life, for me, it comes down to “you have to do what’s best for you.”
I think one of the major reasons that I haven’t been writing is that I feel incredibly inarticulate, like I can’t get all of my words together to make a coherent post, so why even bother writing. Then, I feel guilty, so I don’t write, so I feel guilty for not writing, so I would have to come up with some sort of amazing post to atone for the absence, and let’s face it – I’m no Mel. 🙂 So, I end up not writing, but I miss it. Maybe this is my lesson for today – that I should just freaking write something because it’s helpful to me and if I happen to connect with others, than that’s gravy/icing/choose a better metaphor here.
Thank you – I needed this post.
Like Julia wrote, I needed this too. I have no style, and I’m becoming completely OK with it.
Yes!!!!
“I’m also fairly aware having known how the blog used to be that I’m looking at a life created for a blog vs. the other way around.”
It is sad (from my perspective) when that happens.
Though I admit to having caught myself over the years thinking about sharing something on my blog more than truly experiencing the event or moment. That is always a red flag for me, if I am doing that too much.
I also like the distinction you make between taking care of our blogs and making them look nice vs. slick.
Finally, I totally see what you mean about how sponsored posts can be a gateway drug to slick blogging… I have had a few opportunities and though I enjoyed them, it definitely is very different that just writing about what I want to, when I want to.
Very interesting post/discussion!
Hi Mel!
I read you avidly — as you know — but my commenting time is relegated to whenever I’m sitting in front of a computer (smartphones and I do not get alone in terms of commenting…) I have had so much to think about lately in your writing — so many wonderful posts — I marvel in what you have built, how you maintain it — who you are in this community. You are real.
This struck something for me — I think because in a way I start getting all flashbacky to my MFA program and the slick writing and the other writing … and it makes me get all in my head over the act of writing and the act of blogging — which I still feel are two different beasts…but I can’t really put my finger on why — I always taught with the fervent belief that everyone could write. Everyone has a story worth telling. I still believe that. I still believe in the transformational act of telling the truth (which is why the recent constraints on my own blogging have been so difficult for me). I don’t think that this kind of telling has to be focused on the craft — (it helps, of course, for readability and hooking) — but there’s room for everyone on the bus — people who assemble sentences in the telling and put one word in front of the other — and people whose eye is more turned towards crafting — the heart of it is the person inside. All else is gloss.
It would be interesting to know all the other languages in the world — and to see the blogs out of those cultures — and to see what they captured about the culture. My guess is that the commodification of blogging and the slick telling tells more about where we, as Americans, are most comfortable — or conversely — what we turn our faces away from — what we don’t want to enter/read/consume.
This dovetailed for me on Jjiraffe’s post about GOMI (which I had no idea about… I guess I live under a rock) http://jjiraffe.wordpress.com/2013/01/15/those-in-glass-houses-will-throw-stones/
I do marvel sometimes at our collective ability to be more comfortable with sarcasm and criticism than we are with our own truth.
I think I should probably comment more…I’m out of practice and I fear I hijacked your comment section AND sound like a crotchety jackass.
XO
Pam
First, thank you … I’ve been in self-imposed exile, and almost didn’t read this … so glad I did, because I like the imperfect, real blogs, too. And I’m blushing at your compliment.
I’ve been reading more food blogs lately and I both love and hate them. Love them for beautiful, hate them for the beautiful that seems artificial somehow. Inauthentic. And yet I feel like if I’m NOT like them, new readers won’t be drawn in like they are to THOSE blogs. Of course, the question is whether I *want* that sort of reader. And the answer is, well, perhaps not.
Which makes my recent non-blog-related local celebrity all the more tricky. Do I just decide that I don’t care, and that people could have figured out who I was before now if they really wanted to? That the fact that I’m more findable now thanks to Google+ doesn’t change who I am and how and why I blog?
Back to my hole for a little while, I think. But swimming upward.
“Place on the screen whatever is in your head, whether it is pretty or boring or strange or upsetting or inspiring. ”
So yes!
I need a basic template, some basic organization on the page, and content. My blog is not a shiny, disco ball.
And I do not follow or am interested in shiny, disco ball blogs.
HAH. It is really weird that I’m reading this post today. It is just exactly what has been going on in my head lately. I really feel that lately, people are *way* too concerned with popularity as bloggers. And I admit that it is annoying. I don’t want to read about your longing for page views. And while I love “day of the week” themes as excuses for blogging, I *really* don’t care if you miss a day. I really don’t care how closely you stick to your own self-imposed themes– I just care that you post.
I try to keep my own meta-blogging to a minimum these days after having read too many posts of that sort and realizing how they absolutely make me turn off my brain and click away. (Which is funny, because my most recent post is terribly guilty of that– navel-gazing into my own blog… “I should just shut this blog down!” Really? Why even post that? Do it or don’t!) Yes, sure, feel free to apologize or explain away a 4 month absence, but do not for one second think that your readers honestly care. (Well, that’s perhaps harsh, but people in my corner of the bloggy-world, I think we tend to care more about the stories than the stories-about-why-you-didn’t-post-the-stories). What I mean is that it matters far more inside your own head than it does in the heads of your readers.
So yes, while I love the concept of “just write!”, I have to amend that with “just write stories!” If what’s in your head is that you feel guilty for not blogging often enough, or for the fact that you post boring stuff, or the fact that your posts are misunderstood– well. I have to be honest and say that I really don’t care. (I mean, I care that my blog friends are happy and that they continue to share their thoughts, but I don’t care about how many page views you get, or how you want to change the format of your blog, etc. I just want the personal connections that stories afford.)
So yes. I fully, 100%, whole-heartedly agree with the Anti-Shiny movement. Shiny is awesome, but only if your actual content happens to be shiny, too. You have to be pretty on the inside to be pretty on the outside, right?
Late to the party here (as usual, although in real life I’m ridiculously punctual).
I am in total agreement. There are a few IF blogs I used to follow that are so commercialized that they now hold an ‘ick’ factor for me. I stick to places where people pour their hearts out onto the page and most of the time, these are blogs with low reader count and very basic design.
I am somewhat non-existent on my blog unless something big is going on or I feel an overwhelming need to write, but what gets me hung up most is not the gloss or the reader count (in fact, I use a template and have never called my tech hubby forward to help pretty it up), but the art of writing.
I am such a perfectionist when it comes to my writing that I will re-read and edit more times than is possible for someone with a job and preschooler, hance my lack of posts. I know, I need to just let it be, but I can’t resist! This need for written perfection (and yet I am still never satisfied) is truly what prevents me from just getting it down and why shorter methods, like facebook or twitter, are so alluring. And yet, FB and twitter don’t accomplish what I need (I need to bitch about IF! My fertile friends don’t want to hear about my cervical mucous!) and my IF blog doesn’t always come across as authentic to me as I’ve spent so much time polishing it to a high shine. Obviously, I get the draw of gloss, so I can’t fault others for submitting to it, but maybe I need to start practicing what I appreciate in others.
Confession: I am a pinterest addict, which makes me covet all day long. And spend too many hours on cupcakes and toppers for toddler birthday parties that get smashed into tiny mouths anyway. Trying to break that bad trying-to-channel Martha Stewert habit.
A great post Mel. I do agree with this and would rather read the authentic blog vs the slick one.