I’m about to state the obvious here: bloggers love comments. They really love them. They all-caps LOVE them. They mixed-capitalization lOvE them. They bold and italic font treatment love them. They excessive exclamation point love them!!! They Joanie-loves-Chachi love them. It’s the real deal, folks. TLA 4EVER.
If a blog is a car, the comments are the gasoline. Or the fan belt. Or is it the torque converter? I’m not sure, but it’s one of those really important parts of the car that causes it to chug and die if it is missing. At least that’s what bloggers think. In actuality, if a blog is a car, the comments are the fuzzy dice hanging over the mirror, the cool bumper stickers on the fender, and those adorable stick-figures of the entire family on the rear window—comments are super awesome accessories. But bloggers (forgive me for speaking in generalizations here) don’t get that; they crave comments like a drug.
You see, we are a fickle and slightly narcissistic bunch and each new comment seems to scream to us, “YOUR EXISTENCE IS VALIDATED!” It doesn’t even matter if it’s a complete stranger who leaves a comment; in fact, that makes it even a little more special that way. Why do we want our existence validated by complete strangers, you ask? Well, because most of us pay our close friends and family a small monthly fee for their comments. Or maybe that’s just me.
And there’s nothing that torments a blogger more than knowing that there is a discrepancy between the number of people who read or subscribe to the blog and the number of comments they receive for each post. It’s a very disconcerting mystery that could not even be solved by the original cast of CSI. Want to drive a blogger nuts? Pull up their site six thousand times in one day and never leave a comment. Within 24 hours, you’ll be able to smell the steaming bafflement.
Anyway, having been at the blogging thing for few years, I’ve come to understand a few things about blogging and about myself that I completely misunderstood before. And if I can share something here that I have learned that will help even one blogger and one reader understand the other a little better, then I will have accomplished all that I set out to do and I can add a shiny gold sticker to my chart.
About a year ago, I put myself through Blogger Rehab (you can read about it here) and then put myself on a strict Blog Diet. Taking several steps back from the blogosphere, I began to see it in a different light. Some might say I began to see it in a healthier, more balanced light. Those would be people from the mental health profession, probably.
I can truly say that now, while I still love and adore any comments I receive, I do not depend on them. To me, my blog is a place where I can practice my writing, record my life and thoughts, and share my experiences with now-distant friends and family. Over time, it has also become a place for me to meet new people and develop new friendships—a total bonus. It is an important part of my life, without a doubt, but it is only one important part among many others. And while I am thrilled when I get a nice comment from somebody new, I don’t crush it up and inject it into my arm.
To give you an illustration of this, I used to rush in the door after running an errand and immediately check my email for any new comments. Now when I return home from somewhere, I set my purse down and go to the bathroom before checking my email. That’s progress, I tell you.
See how balanced and mature I am now? (Hah!)
Before I ramble on any further, I’d like to stand on my soap box and share a few thoughts with the bloggers and readers of the world.
To the bloggers:
1. I validate you. You are funny, smart, creative, talented and insightful. You really are.
2. Remember how in school there were some kids who didn’t enjoy raising their hand to answer a question or participate in class? The ones who preferred to sit quietly and listen without a lot of interaction? Those people like to read blogs in the same manner. They like your blog; they read your blog (maybe even every day); but they don’t necessarily want to raise their hand and make a comment. Or maybe they are just terribly busy and taking time to write a comment would take away from the enjoyment they find in simply reading. What I’m trying to say is that your readers are good people. Don’t try to interpret their silence.
3. Ask yourself if comments are your gasoline or your fuzzy dice. Be your own gasoline.
4. I thought I should have something else to say here to make my list nice and well-rounded, but I’m sort of out of ideas. Hmm, this is awkward. {Thumbs twiddling. Nervous whistle.}
To the readers:
1. It’s perfectly okay if you don’t want to comment. Ever. I validate you.
2. That said, your comments are so appreciated if you should choose to leave one.
3. If you want to comment, please don’t ever be under the impression that your comment must be clever or funny. Nothing could be farther from the truth. It is perfectly acceptable to write, “I liked this post.” or “I agree.” or “Hah!” I have left all of those comments before. A comment is a comment is a comment. Confucius said that, I think.
4. If you have a negative comment to make, please think twice about it. If you think twice and you still want to share it, be confident enough in your point of view to use your name. Negative anonymous comments hold no water. Confucius said that too.
5. Keep this in mind—many friendships begin with a single comment. (Don’t give credit to Confucius on that one, I said it.) It’s true.
OK, I am done. The soap box is starting to creak and buckle under my weight, and besides that, the cops are walking this way and I don’t have a permit to be here. Thank you for your time. Go write blogs. Go read blogs. Love each other. Eat more burritos.
