The BlogRhet Meme

I got tagged for this interesting meme by Bub and Pie. The questions originated over at BlogRhet

1. Go back to first or early post. How would you describe your voice back in those early days?
Who were you writing to? What was your sense of audience (if any) back then?

My very first post was a picture of my ‘twins’ (both now 9) at the age of two when they got into the paint and started painting the house. I think my subsequent early posts were much along the line of what I write today, sharing funny things that my kids did or said. I was definitely writing to moms. I started my Opinion game fairly early on. It is always interesting to hear what people say about various topics. I did a lot of writing on yahoogroups and other internet support groups before I started blogging. Because of that I think I had already found my ‘voice’ when I started blogging, and so it was not a big writing-style evolution.

2. Do you remember when you received your first comment? What was it like?

Because my first post was also a contest entry on a fairly busy blog, I got several comments on it. I didn’t know how lucky I was! When I visit a blog with no comments, I try to comment whenever I possibly can, because I know how encouraging that can be to a blogger.

3. Can you point to a stage where you began to feel that your blog might be part of a conversation? Where you might be part of a larger community of interacting writers?

I think it was when I shared my heart about adoption that I began to feel that what I said might influence and encourage people.

4. Do you think that this sense of audience or community might have affected the way you began to write?

Sure. I think all bloggers wonder why some posts get feedback and others don’t. It’s natural to want to post the stuff that gets the most feedback, that strikes a chord with others. But in the end, you have to be true to yourself and your own interests, because that’s what makes your blog uniquely yours.


Anyone else want to do this meme? Leave a link in comments and play along!

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  1. I shared your blog with someone when I found out she was planning for an adoption. I didn’t know her very well (we’d only met recently a local park) and I’m not sure if she came to your site, but this was the first “resource” I thought to name.

  2. I have the “comments” option turned off on my blog so that no one can comment on my posts. Hmmm… maybe I should write a post about why I have my blog that way.

  3. I remember when you asked our opinion about your thirty days of nothing posts – because the comment level had gone down and you weren’t sure if that meant people weren’t interested. I think that series was one of the most memorable and inspiring I’ve come across – but I’ll confess I didn’t comment much on it!

  4. Interesting answers!
    It’s funny – I always presume that other bloggers are much more confident than I am about their blogs. I don’t know why, really.

  5. I don’t remember how I stumbled across your blog, but I just wanted to say that I have always enjoyed reading it. I’m new to blogging so I don’t have any comments on my blog, but I’m starting to feel like writing has become my therapy, hopefully it keeps me sane as my children are starting to enter their teenage years.

  6. I often wonder about those who turn off the comments feature or make a point of discouraging comments. In the majority of cases, I think people do want dialogue but are nervous about the sort of reaction they’ll produce. But there are a certain number of bloggers out there who aren’t interested in discussion: either the blog is a personal journal, deep and reflective thoughts or they simply want a place to rant to the world – a mountain top from which to scream.

    But I also think subject-directed blogs have an advantage in creating a community of readers. If you like bowling, for instance, you look for people with goofy shoes and oversized shirts. But often finding friends or a group of friends comes quite unexpectedly and over time you begin to realize, also quite unexpectedly, that you like them and they like you despite not having “the most important thing” -adoption, a village full of children, etc – in common.