Ostensibly, the reasons for writing blogs, and doing them regularly, are to share information and to establish an online presence. As a writer, I am told I need an online presence, and I understand that. Unless you are known to people, why would they read you? Of course, this begs the question of why they might read the blog of an unknown, which is the first step in them become a known,
I have to admit that the idea of my online presence makes me a bit edgy. Who is this person? It is hard enough to know the physical person that I am, and coming to understand an ethereal version seems odd.
Of course, we all have an online presence, whether we intend it or not. Simply get an email address and you are inserted willy nilly into the “community” that we hear so much about. My concern is that it is less a community and more an amalgamation of disembodied entities who interact as if they are real. Their actions have real consequences, despite the fact that conversations on forums and the like often have the odour of make believe about them.
Several blogs I have seen recently actively advocate the “I blog therefore I am” philosophy, pointing to the way authors can create sales through providing useful information or interesting tidbits. But it all adds to the noise level. How much are we willing to filter through to be entertained.
So I waffle over how much to blog, and even whether to blog. If it is useful, in what context? If it is just marketing and establishing a presence, then is it a contribution?
I have no answer and remain unclear about who I really am online, and who I want to be. I want to be interesting–who doesn’t? I prefer not to be trivial, but depth isn’t all that popular, and if you aren’t popular, then what are you? I blog, therefore I am, actually requires the addendum of “I blog and my blog is read, therefore I am,” to be complete. Otherwise, like Berkely’s tree, we make no noise. Or do we?