The blog is dead, long live the blog

The past week my blog Died. It died and it couldn’t be resuscitated in any useful form. I have put more work than anyone could feasibly imagine into this blog. More than anything in my life it has been a labour of Love.

And the thing is my blog is often a shout into the ether. I Spend a day crafting something, aligning the SEO, getting some pretty pictures. Then I post it and only a handful of people read it and no one comments on it and I just think why bother?

Money not moaning, dude

So a while ago after some prompting from the hubs that went something like ‘find a job or make the blog generate cash’, I thought I’d attempt it. It was a big thing for me because I’m let’s be honest, I’m flighty and irresponsible, completely not into planning and increasingly lazy.

Anyway, I spent all the last month going back through old posts and doing dead boring shit like updating SEO and trying to get my page speed faster. And it worked. I’d managed with all that work to go from an average of 100 visits a day to 350 and I’d earned a grand total of .30 cents. (I know right!) Then I lost it all.

Starting afresh

So as the blog generates no cash and no one seems to read it. My mum might read one in 10, my friends 1 in 20, I’m not sure my Dad even knows I have a blog. This was the perfect opportunity to jack it in.  I could always start a new one. Something business focussed, perhaps something that played to my brand and marketing strengths, or web design, or writing. But here’s the crunch.

I love this blog.

I love it like my feral, fierce and fabulous children. I love it like wine, which makes me mental and fat and I walk around in a daze for half a day but I still love it. The blog takes all my time, it drives me insane but i couldn’t say goodbye.

Directionless ramblings

The thing is I’ve lost my way. This blog was a diary and a public hearing. It was therapy. Then I’d share something particularly personal and someone would bring it up in the school playground or the supermarket. I started feeling reluctant to share my personal stories. So, I shared the places I went and what I learned, which is okay. But when I started trying to make it a business I started to fall out of love with it.

So even though I swore I’d never write another rambling post about feelings, here I am. Questioning whether I try to make this a money spinner or just keep muttering and mumbling in public and hope that no one at all reads it.. or at least brings it up in the playground.

I struggle to think how I’d spend my time if I didn’t write. It’s what I love. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. This blog is my valium and therapist and glass of wine all in one. If I gave it up then what would I do? My hair? My nails? My cleaning? Find a commercial writing job, I suppose.

Or find a way to just be me and make money… Surely the two can’t be mutually exclusive?

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