So Krisco and I are having a cosy chat about the state of blogosphere and then she asks
would I want to be dooce? While I was crossing my legs at the mere thought of all the surgery that would involve, Krisco clarified the question as: would I want that level of popularity?
The upside: It would absolutely change my life. That level of popularity and, let's be honest, the level of income that it brings would enable me to approach the old hierarchy of needs in a different way. I'd get to be my own boss and stay home a lot more. Sidenote: I haven't the first clue as to what that income is, but by their own admission it is sufficient that neither
dooce or
her husband currently need to work what you might call a "normal" job.
The downside: It's a huge risk. It's alright if you have a handle on what it is that makes your blog successful and are able to sustain the formula, but what if you can't. How about a couple of months of writers block. Let's face it, no one would notice if I didn't post for a couple of months, but it would wipe dooce off the map. Whilst there are no consequences for me if I fall out of the Top 350,000 blogs on Technorati, the same cannot be true for dooce if she falls out of the Top 100.
Tristan Louis recently posted a clinical analysis of the
Technorati Top 100 which proves just how dynamic the list is, and by extension how tenuous anyone's grip is on a position within it (unless, it would seem, your blog is named Boing Boing) .
The other thing that comes with a successful blog appears to be the detractors. I've seen a little of that side of things from reading the comments on
Scoble's blog and I've seen dooce refer several times to what I'd label as hate mail. I wouldn't underestimate how difficult it might be to handle that on a daily basis.
On balance, no I wouldn't want that level of popularity. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't want my blog to have higher traffic levels than it does today. An interesting question is: where is the happy medium?
Tags:
Crib Ceiling,
Blogging,
dooce,
Technorati,
Robert Scoble