On Blogging

Welcome to the InterWebs, Part 4

by Veronica Foale on May 24, 2011

in Fiction, On Blogging, Writing

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

***

The InterWebs had gotten hot and sticky and Anna’s hand still throbbed from the bite her Blogroll had given her. While not a nasty bite by any stretch of the imagination, Anna couldn’t seem to find the place in her head where she could erase the bite and move on, and so it continued to hurt.

Susan had brought her into the fold of the personal bloggers a few days ago now and she was slowly settling in. There were a lot of bloggers still racing around and trying to outdo each other, but it wasn’t anything that Anna couldn’t cope with. The pace was less frenzied in this section of the InterWebs and while the advertising continued to flash at her, it didn’t seem quite so bright anymore.

The personal bloggers were an interesting mix of people, some parents and some not. The parents amongst them tended to call themselves Mummyblogger Rejects, which seemed a little harsh to Anna, surely the Mummybloggers didn’t reject anyone? She’d only left because she couldn’t seem to fit in and that was her own issue.

Anna wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore and her grandiose dreams of InterWeb life seemed a very long way away, when compared to the unReality of the situation she was in.

Since she had moved over to the Personal Blogger section of the InterWebs, Anna had felt like she could breathe a little easier. It wasn’t so perfectly shiny and happy over here and there was some grit and substance to the bloggers, which she liked. It suited her here, better than the Mummybloggers had, with their perfect children and smiling personas.

It’s strange though, thought Anna, I’m not sure what is actually different here. The label, yes, the pressure, probably, but these women, they’re all the same really.

Anna was busy pondering this when a group of women ran past her, looking frenzied. She wasn’t quite sure what was happening, when the shouts started.

“BANDWAGON!”

“QUICK, SOMEONE CATCH IT!”

The women jostled her and she found herself being moved along with the group, quite without wanting to. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be trampled.

The shouting started again.

“QUICK QUICK, THERE IT GOES!”

“DID YOU GET IT? DAMMIT, SOMEONE CATCH IT!”

Carefully, Anna maneuvered herself to the side of the crowd, to try and see what was happening. The press of bodies didn’t make this easy and they were running faster and faster. Beside her ran a stocky looking women with dark hair. Anna tugged on her sleeve.

“I’m new here, can you tell me what’s happening?”

The stocky woman looked at Anna, and answered without breaking stride. “It’s the Bandwagon love, we’re trying to catch it.”

Anna wasn’t any less confused. “A bandwagon? But what’s a Bandwagon?”

“You jump on it love, and do things as a group. They’re powerful, Bandwagons are.” The stocky woman put her head down and ran faster.

“But why?” Anna asked.

“Why love? Because we can. Why not? There’s power in groups love, lots of power.”

Without a backwards glance, she pushed through the people in front of her and disappeared.

Anna wasn’t certain this was what she wanted to be doing, but the push and crush of the crowd made it impossible for her to escape.

Suddenly, a giant cry went up from the crowd and the running slowed. It appeared the Bandwagon had been caught.

The excitement in the crowd was palpable and Anna had to fight to not get caught up in the heady rush of peer pressure. The people behind her were pushing forwards and she moved with the crowd, completely trapped now. Keeping her eyes on the backs of the women in front of her, she moved along.

Then she was being helped up into the Bandwagon and even though it looked like she would never fit, a space opened up for her. The stocky woman was sitting across from her.

“I see you made it here okay then love?”

Anna nodded, still out of breath from the chase.

She looked around.

“What are we doing here?” she asked.

“Why, we’re on the Bandwagon love! It’s going to empower us to make changes in the InterWebs and we’ll be able to use it to our advantage!”

“What kinds of changes?” Anna was normally a smart woman, but the Bandwagon jumping confused her.

“Well, this Bandwagon is about fairness for all bloggers. It’s showing us all how to behave, so that we can all get along. Isn’t that just what we need?”

Anna looked away. She didn’t think that this was exactly what she needed.

“Where do Bandwagons come from then?” she asked after a time.

“This one’s Jennifer’s love. She’s had some cracking ideas lately, ways for bloggers to get along and make money and it’s just lovely.”

Anna was even more dubious about the Bandwagon now. The rumours about Jennifer had been steadily growing since she left the Mummyblogger camp – rumours of Jennifer making decisions for the entire community and there was talk of a rethinking how a community works. She wasn’t sure she wanted a Queen in the InterWebs, not even a queen of the relatively small Mummybloggers.

She looked around, trying to work out if she could get off. It looked like there was a path back off to one side, if she could just reach it. Standing up, she braved the crush of sitting people.

“Excuse me, sorry, can I just get through…. thank you so much.”

A few minutes and countless trodden toes later, she was able to climb off the Bandwagon.

Standing in the open air again, she was able to breathe.

Looking around, there seemed to be a few bloggers who had decided that this bandwagon wasn’t for them, or who hadn’t climbed on in the first place. Anna smiled at them and one woman smiled back, before walking over.

“Are you okay? You look a bit shaken.”

Anna laughed. “Yes, I’m fine. My first experience of a Bandwagon, that’s all.”

“Ahhhh.” The woman smiled knowingly. “That’s okay, you get used to them. The key is finding out whether it’s something you truly believe in before you jump on.”

“I know that now” said Anna.

With one last pat on the shoulder, the woman made to walk off.

“You’ll be okay?” she asked.

“Yes, yes, I’ll be fine.” said Anna.

Taking a deep breath, Anna turned around and walked away. Behind her, the Bandwagon trailed off, taking the bloggers with it.

Anna was sure that Bandwagons were perfectly alright for some people, in some cases.

But she just wasn’t sure that they were right for her.

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Finding my balance

by Veronica Foale on March 27, 2011

in Family, Life, On Blogging

It’s a balancing act, knowing what to write about on the internet. An intricate dance of stories and perspectives, making sure you don’t put words in someone’s mouth and side-stepping the issue of privacy invasion. Knowing when to speak and when to hold your tongue, when to write and when to walk away.

It’s about more than not wanting to damage your own brand with drama.

It’s about knowing that truth can be fluid sometimes and not wanting it to be; wanting truth to be truth and lies to remain unspoken.

It’s a fine line.

***

My son is sad and his warm mass draped on my lap and snuggled to my chest brings to the fore all my maternal feelings. It doesn’t matter than he is dribbling in my cleavage or that I am not able to move, he is warm and sad and I am his mother and I can fix this, this time. When he is older and I cannot surround him with my arms, then he will be sad and my heart will break at how useless magic kisses have become.

I put him to bed with a warm bottle, knowing that he is tired and listen to him cry anyway. This is hard. This breaks my heart. This is probably best for all of us, that he sleeps now.

***

I send my daughter outside, to play fortheloveofgod go and play. She lies on the trampoline for an hour, not moving and I watch her as I wander around the house. She is tired and miserable and sad and bendy. She comes back inside and we lay together on the couch and I feel the heat of her. A temperature rising, her joints aching. I thank everything that I have panadol handy and I dose her up and lay her in bed. She is limp and miserable and I lay with her for a time.

Motherhood is hard.

Motherhood is beautiful.

***

The truth is hard.

The truth is beautiful.

With all this talk of authenticity, I can only be myself and this is how I am in real life too. I might not talk about all of it, but I’m honest at the core.

There are things happening and things brewing and at this point, I’m not sure I’m content to sit back and say nothing, but the drama and the angst, I don’t want it.

So I’m saying: Watch and listen and see what happens. Sit here alongside me and we’ll eat popcorn and wait for the fallout. Because it’s coming and it’s not going to be pretty.

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Jaded

by Veronica Foale on January 30, 2011

in On Blogging

Jaded.

I am jaded.

Blogging has changed so quickly that I am left behind, wondering how to swim in this shark tank. When did blogging become about PR deals and not the writing?

Maybe I’m just a bitch.You kids get off my goddamned lawn.

I want more from this. I want my writing to be brilliant. I want fans, across the globe. I want time to write a book, to lose myself in my own fantasy. I want to connect with like-minded people and find more brilliant blogs. To be entrapped in a blog’s story from the moment I start.

I want more.

***

Something happens. Something good, for me, and I float on the happening for weeks. I adore it and then it ends and I am forced back into reality with the screams of my children ringing in my ears.

This is the come down. I knew it was coming, but my head being all fucked up has surprised even me. I want to hibernate, to pull the blankets over my head and refuse to leave my own head.

Unfortunately, this is not how reality works.

***

I want to be bigger than myself.

I want you to want more.

I want my words to flow out of my fingertips and onto the screen with ease. I’m sick of pulling words the way dentists pull teeth.

I want my dissatisfaction to fade away.

I want a lot of things.

***

Tell me, who do you read when you’re feeling dissatisfied? What do you do?

Because whatever I’m doing isn’t working so well.

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For Bloggerbelles everywhere.

by Veronica Foale on January 6, 2011

in Fiction, On Blogging

You need to read this first, or my response will make no sense. If you’re anything like me, that post won’t make any sense either, but that’s okay. I don’t think it’s meant to.

***

It had been a week since Bloggerbelle had talked with “Sarah” from the land of PR and she was beginning to feel like she’d been duped. She had read Sarah’s version of the conversation and she was rather displeased with how she’d been portrayed. She certainly wasn’t as stupid as Sarah thought she was and she suspected that Sarah was actually a witch, trained in the art of double talk and confusion.

After stewing on these facts for a while, she decided to travel to the land of PR and confront Sarah. Leaving her child with a baby sitter (Sarah might have claimed she was a beautiful princess of Blog, but she was wrong about a lot of things) she travelled for a long time to reach Sarah’s kingdom.

The people of PR were tricky you see and frequently moved around to curtail complaints, and avoid the worst of the dark and stormy weather.

When she finally found Sarah, they sat down together for a coffee. Bloggerbelle had lots of questions.

‘Sarah, when last we spoke, I walked away confused. We spoke about compensation and giveaways and yet, I don’t feel that my questions were addressed, or even adequately represented in the post you wrote.’ Bloggerbelle continued. ‘I think you misunderstood what I meant when I said I was asking for compensation. I was approached by people from the land of PR, who asked if I would review a product and host a giveaway. Then I was disheartened when my requests for compensation were turned down.’

Sarah looked at her and then spoke carefully, ‘Bloggerbelle, we discussed the problem of compensation, remember?’

‘I remember, and yet, I walked away without learning anything’. Bloggerbelle hardened her mind to any tricks that Sarah was trying to use on her.

‘The land of PR offered me a product to review and then giveaway on my blog and yet, they wouldn’t give me compensation for the time and effort required to run a giveaway. Tell me Sarah, are you being paid?’

‘Well, yes, I’m being paid but -‘

‘Are you being paid in money? Honest to goodness money? Or does the King of PR send you home at the end of the week with product samples to see you through?’

‘It’s not the point! I’m doing my job!’

Bloggerbelle had thought about this on the long trip to the land of PR.

‘Sarah, I am doing my job too. I am spending time writing copy for a blog post, I am moderating comments and organising a giveaway, don’t I deserve to get paid also?’

Sarah looked annoyed. Very annoyed. Dark clouds gathered above her head and Bloggerbelle started to realise why the land of PR was dark and stormy.

‘I accept that you are taking time and effort to put together a blog post, but you’re a blogger! We don’t have a budget to pay bloggers!’

Bloggerbelle didn’t agree that there wasn’t a budget.

‘Sarah, I think you do have a budget, otherwise you wouldn’t have a client. I just don’t think you’re willing to share any part of your budget with bloggers.’

Sarah spluttered a bit and Bloggerbelle tried a different tack.

‘Sarah, I am using my trust capital and my sphere of influence to promote a product for your client. I have worked hard to build up an audience and regardless of what you think of their worth, I know that I am worth more than a few boxes of cereal.’

Sarah looked shocked as Bloggerbelle kept talking.

‘You might believe that we’re all alike in the Land of Blog Sarah, but we’re not. I know that if I turn down a chance to work with you that you will find someone else willing to work for nothing. I am okay with this. I am concerned with my long term reputation, not my short term gain. And frankly, if people assume I’m getting paid anyway, then why should I do the work for nothing?’

Bloggerbelle stood up quickly and nodded to Sarah. Without a backwards glance, she left Sarah still spluttering behind her.

While she wasn’t yet sure what she wanted to get out of her blog, she did know that she wasn’t prepared to sell herself for nothing. After all, how could she give her child all the pretty things in the kingdom if she wasn’t being paid for anything?

She knew that she was worth more than that and she wasn’t prepared to sell herself short.

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Discontentment

by Veronica Foale on October 9, 2010

in On Blogging

It feels like I’m banging my head against a wall, or swimming against the tide. Trying to get noticed in the swell of mummybloggers and professionals, the Internet is a shark tank and I’m not kitted up for the biting that inevitably follows.

I want more, I want to be noticed and universally adored – despite knowing that it’s insanity to want universal adoration, something that only exists inside the minds of slightly insane movie starlets.

Nevertheless, I click through and look at my stats and content myself with writing consistently well and still it feels like it’s not enough. I want ….. something. Something more.

I think I’ve flown, THWAP, up against the glass walls in here.

What the fuck hit me?

Discontentment.

Huh.

I read amazing words and yet those women, they don’t write often enough. I respond on twitter to someone who appears to be no more popular than anyone else and never get a response. What sets him aside from us, that he can afford to ignore the plebs, those of us he deems below himself.

Being noticed for writing on the Internet feels like being noticed for wearing designer shoes in a strip club. It’s a world of instant gratification and the time it takes to read words and let them sit inside you isn’t taken, not when you’ve got BOOBS and AWESOME and HAHAHAHA hiding over there.

So they click away and it feels like I’m doing the same thing, over and over and not getting anywhere.

And it goes around and around and around.

Welcome to my merry-go-round. Want to come and sit up here and throw peanuts at the people who don’t want to notice us? You’re more than welcome to sit here by me.

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