Blogging Is Dead

That's the word on the street, anyway.

It used to be the first question that came up when social media was mentioned - do you have a blog? Now I'm asked more often if I have a Twitter or Facebook... although I'll add that the latter is quickly falling off the inquiry list.

The answer is yes, I do. I have all of them. I also have a YouTube channel, Pinterest, Instagram and even a LinkedIn. Sure, a couple of those are virtual cemeteries when it comes to traffic, but because they exist, I have one. Some are more work than others, some are easily fed by content from each other, and some I can get lost in for hours looking at videos of cats.

But the blog? This blog - the one you're reading right now.

This is work. Real work. This is me talking to you about writing life on Mondays, sharing how other authors achieved their success on Tuesdays, diving into etymology on Wednesdays, taking a little tour of my head on Thursdays, doing a virtual librarian book talk on Fridays, and offering up query critiques on Saturdays.

And everyone says it's dead. They say no one reads blogs anymore because it's easier to look at gifs and easily digestible 140 characters of wisdom than read a whole paragraph. For the most part, I am seeing this pan out in the numbers. The group blogs that I contribute to are seeing less traffic and comments have nose-dived everywhere. Interaction is a thing of the past and even giveaways aren't pulling in the clicks like they used to.

So this makes me sad, because I like blogging. I'm one of those people that does it because I enjoy it, not because I have massive amounts of followers or because my traffic consistently has four digit hits daily. It doesn't. In fact,  if I told you what my average traffic is like you would advise me to stop wasting my time.

And maybe I should. But I'm not going to, and I'll tell you why. Underneath my snail-house exterior I'm a complete softie for those people who come up to me at book fairs and signings to tell me how much they like my blog. If you ever see me and you feel the same way, say so, and you'll get to see a real smile - one that doesn't flash out that often. The one that pushes my cheeks up so far that my eyes practically close.

That's because this blog is work, like I said, but it's a work of the heart. My novels are too, and I'll gladly accept compliments on those as well. But if I'm being totally honest I write my novels for me, and I blog for you.

So tell me that it means something to you, and you'll make my day.

Thursday Thoughts

Thoughts lately...

1) I tweeted about this yesterday, but it's still on my mind. Kissing is weird. It goes, "I like you. I'm going to put my mouth on your mouth. Hold still." Seriously - who had this idea in the first place??! It's unnatural. This is why I don't write romance.

2) All the tension and connection and intentions are in our eyes anyway. Honestly it would make more sense to rub eyeballs.

3) So if you follow my Twitter you know I've had a really serious middle ear infection lately, that has had me looking at ear diagrams. The human ear is one effed up thing. Seriously. If you took it out of the body you wouldn't know what it was. Like if you were walking the woods and there was an eyeball on the ground, stalk and all, you'd still be like, "Oh look, an eyeball." If you were walking in the woods and came across an ear you'd be like, "What is this alien snail baby??!?!"

Wednesday WOLF - Tonsils

I've got a collection of random information in my brain that makes me an awesome Trivial Pursuit partner, but is completely useless when it comes to real world application. Like say, job applications. I thought I'd share some of this random crap with you in the form of another acronym-ific series. I give you - Word Origins from Left Field - that's right, the WOLF. Er... ignore the fact that the "from" doesn't fit.

We all have one and none of us need it. It's our appendix.

In Latin it means the part that hangs, and it's used in reference to our body part because that particular one kinda hangs out at the end of the large intestine. This is also why that little cross-referencing thing that hangs onto the end of books is called an appendix as well.

So why isn't your palatine uvula called the appendix?

It should be.