Where my bloggers at?

Back when DiaryLand ruled the blogging landscape—I doubt if the word "blog" had been popularized as of yet—it wasn't uncommon to receive random plaudits from complete strangers who just happened to stumble upon your diary. The praise was usually short and sweet, but it reaffirmed my belief that blogs could cast a wide a net and capture an audience previously limited to those with published works in book and journals. There was even a diary-rating website that accepted submissions, reviewed blog samples and provided critical feedback. Today, I can't imagine anyone having the time to undertake such a project.

These days, most people are far too self-involved to read words written by someone else. If you charted the trajectory of blogging popularity, you'd probably see a peak in 2003, right before Myspace got REALLY popular. Pre-Myspace, blogs were the primary avenue for peers, friends, and strangers to exchange creative ideas and daily musings. Shit always gets messy when money is involved, and so I felt that blogging took a turn for the worst when it crossed the threshold from recreational activity to profession. Blogs lost their charm and became judged by not their critical and creative contribution but their ability to turn a profit. My wife, a recent mother, is an avid reader of Dooce.com, a blog written by a regular gal cum professional blogger. Dooce writes mostly about her daily trials and tribulations as a mother—and she makes a pretty penny doing so. Everyone needs a hustle, so I can't fault Dooce for taking advantage of an opportunity that allows her to be a stay-at-home mom and get paid to write. Maybe I'm just bitter because it isn't me getting paid to do what I love.

Nowadays, it's exceedingly difficult to get paid for blogging. The all of cyberspace is saturated with blogs, blogs, and more blogs. Blogging celebrities, like Dooce, have convinced everyone that they have what it takes to be a paid, professional writer. Huffington Post, Jezebel and scores of other websites offer free blogging on their sites; very few, if any, actually pay their blog contributors. The sites themselves stand to profit because they can increase their traffic and ad revenue without paying a dime for content. Sweet deal.

Who knows? Maybe blogging will experience a revival in the next few years. I'll be able to look back on this entry, laugh, and chalk it up to a moment of post-30 panic. I doubt that will happen. Sometimes, I pine for what was because I've romanticized the versions of events that exist in my memory. There's no guarantee that what was once new, fresh and exciting will feel the same way long after the novelty has worn off. For now, there's much to be content with in my present: wife, baby, and job—and they don't need a stat counter to measure their worth!