The hangdog in me would like to roll my eyes at Stacy McCain for his outbursts and general drama-queenery about BlogCon. Looked at from my point of view, Stacy needs to get over not being the popular girl.
This isn’t my first blog; It’s my fifth. I have never gotten a million hits; I’ve never gotten 100,000 hits. I’m pleased as punch to get over 1,000 unique hits in a month. I don’t get anything from the tip jar, because I don’t even have one. So to read a guy, who enjoys success I likely never will, whine that he does not enjoy more does not sit well.
But then I remember that this isn’t my first blog. It’s my fifth.
I’ve been blogging since 2003. I’ve killed blogs dead, revived them, renamed them, linked, joined link communities, hat-tipped, and gotten bupkis for my trouble. I know those long dark minutes spent staring at your screen, wondering “what the hell’s the point?”
Blog fatigue is a monster, the equivalent of Churchill’s “black dog,” an enemy that grinds your face in the very anonymity and independence that makes blogging so fascinating in the first place. So Stacy’s entitled to his moment of low spirits. We’re none of us rewarded as we would wish.
So Stacy: keep calm and carry on, old sport. I just put a small pop in your tip jar. Not much, as I too have the State of Maryland to fend with. Enough to buy you a tall cold one to drown your troubles.