Blog Comments: the daily dose of Vitamin D via sunshine up your ass
Posted by Heather in A Bunch of NothingYou know how topics circle around in the blogosphere? Like when we’re all blogging about comments; who gets the most in comparison to traffic, who doesn’t get many, how to get more, comment whores – the oldest blog profession, the give and take, forget about comments, comments, COMMENTS, COMMENTS!
For me, these circling posts lead to mind-spinning thoughts, such as why, WHY, DEAR GOD, DO I NOT GET MORE COMMENTS?! Did I piss you off? Is it because I’m not afraid of you? I can poured my heart into a kick-ass piece and get 10 comments, but someone else literally wrote a shitty piece (about dog crap) and got 75 comments. Screw the meaning of life, explain that, God! I pay my taxes, damn it. What is up with you, God?
And then the blog sages come out of the bush, chanting mantras, chiming bells and waving burning incense in the air, saying things like, well Warren Whittaker didn’t get any comments and he did okay.
Wait, that’s an insurance agency in my hometown, not a famous writer. William Wallace? No, that’s Mel Gibson. Who the hell was it? Walt Whitman? Or does he make boxed chocolates? Shit, I don’t know, it started with a ‘W’.
Anyway, the point these sages are trying to make is previous famous authors didn’t get hundreds of comments on their writings and they did just find.
Does hearing such statements make you feel about the same you’d feel if you drank, say, rat poison?
But it’s true, so very true and we should remember it. Many, if not most, famous writers/authors didn’t get 75 immediate affirmations of how awesome they are, how many fans they had, when their words were appreciated, when they weren’t, etc.
Do you ever wonder how they kept going without the daily ass-kissing via blog comments? Self-absorbed assholes like me usually have big but sometimes fragile egos.
Or maybe they had even bigger egos than my own and even if they had a blog, they’d be all who needs your fucking comments! I’d imagine these big ego famous writer people would regularly turn comments off on their blog because, hey, who needs your fucking comments!
Or perhaps insufficient daily ass kissing is why Hemingway was a drunkard and I’m half way there.
Maybe the key to surviving as a writer without having your ego constantly stroked with tons of comments is to just not have a blog. Or read blogs.
Because then you’re totally ignorant of the competition.
(And just so you know, I’m a *huge* lurker myself, so yes, my hair is black for a reason. Feel free to still lurk and, for god’s sake, don’t comment unless it’s ORGANIC.
I guess what I really want to know is if, perhaps, we do rely too much on comments for validation, unless you are super self-actualized and have no insecurities whatsoever. And if so, screw you!
And how the hell did writers get their egos stroked before blog comments?!)
Entries (RSS)
Where are my immediate comments?
I swear, if I become an alcoholic asshole like Hemingway, I’m blaming lurkers.
Share the love and the sun! It’s cloudy and dreary here. Some people when they see more than 10 comments figure the reader stops reading after so many. Just a thought! Have a great day!
OMG! Too funny, and oh so true! Comments=Crack
Here’s you a comment you fame whore! LOL!
I really don’t give a rat’s ass if I get comments or not. I blog to get rid of this “diarrhea of the mouth” disease that no one else wants to listen to. It’s kinda like therapy for my marriage.
I’m lucky if I get 12 comments on a good day. I’ve thought of getting on my own blog and leaving comments under fake names….kinda lame…and I’m WAY too lazy.
I usually don’t comment because I know it will sound like your Mother…or your minister…or both…It is, as they say, “the magic of me.”
On this post, if I were to comment I would say:
The comment addiction: If it were me, I’d do the Work (Byron Katie’s cognitive therapy) …or the Process (Robert Scheinfeld) but I know you know that already and just need to play the Game on this…I have my own game that you are given full license to tell me to do the same…
I comment I comment…i break my lurking to comment
but old timey writers did get comments, just not in the modern, immediate way of the interwebs: they were able to sell books/stories/articles, people wrote letters to the publications their work appearred in, people wrote them directly, both fans & not fans, they were known to their neighbors and either beloved, or not.
Personally, I finally learned how to put everything I want to always read in my googlereader thing. So, if you put your entire post up, I read & most likely don’t comment cause I’m not at your actual page. People like Mir who just put up a teaser, forcing me to click through to their page, I am more likely to comment.
But not much anywhere lately. I was accidently rude when I thought I was being clever, and the blogger was a bit rude back implying I’d been rude before, when I never had, so now I’m less likely to comment anywhere. Plus, I was about to open up my blog, but now I haven’t.
LMAO at your first comment. I always check for immediate comments as well and am disappointed they do not magically appear. Maybe I’ll start leaving them myself.
I just wrote about this last month. Y’know the post wher eI blamed my low comment count on poor comment karma? Oh, wait, you didn’t comment on that one. HA!
Funny how getting a pat on the back by strangers who make comments makes us feel special. Are we not getting the affirmation we need in real life? Are our kids, husband, friends taking us for granted? But what happens when we get too many comments that tell us we are funny, sincere, touching, etc? We get bored or we get too cocksure that every drivel we utter is fascinating to everyone. What I like to get is a really slamming comment. Something anonymous that takes me off my selfmade pedestal and makes me think harder about just who I think I am.
And I am one of the offenders. I’m more likely to leave a comment when I read something funny or gross than when it’s about a tot’s first steps or something warm and fuzzy. Doesn’t stop me reading, I’m just so old I don’t remember stuff like that anymore and can’t relate. Blog about gay teenage vegetarians and I will be all over it!
A great many writer and their works were not appreciated til long after their death. Fuck, the guy who invented toilet paper went bankrupt cuz no one wanted it. I shit you not! (I swear that was an accident) I write something that I think all my friends (3) will love and nothing. I write something that I think is monkey doo and they all (3) ooh and ahhh. Pretty soon I find myself writing for the masses (3) instead of myself. And by the fucking way -sorry, Heath, got me worked up now-the only reason all those people (3) comment anyway is cuz I comment on theirs. If I skip just once, they’re gone and don’t I know it! And now I’m sitting here wondering why in the hell am I doing it?? Oh, yeah, I’m a masochist, I forgot. Anyone seen the whip? ~Rick
Chris: You said this… Are our kids, husband, friends taking us for granted? and I’m like, is that not how it’s suppose to be?
Rick: What’s your fucking blog address? How am I to find you if you don’t leave it?
I think bloggers are spoiled because of the immediate gratification (comments) that are possible with each post.
Why people comment on what they do completely mystifies me. I also have noticed some excellent pieces that go with 5 comments and some people who can’t string a decent sentence together about their mundane morning trip to the park with the kids gets 42. I have also noticed blogs of near identical size in terms of subscribers will have dramatic differences in the average # of comments. So the readership is the same, but people feel more compelled to comment on one person than the other.
I love getting a lot of comments on a post, which for me is anything above 12 (sigh) but also, nearly all my posts that get lots of comments aren’t the type I prefer to write.
So, I try to ignore the #s.
Korie: Would you rather me comment on karma? Or penises? Penises usually win out. heh
apparently it’s working. 14 comments already. 15
The day I got 1000 hits, the average time was 2 minutes, and I had 3 comments I was all ‘fuck it’. And I have never looked back.
Seriously, 1000 hits and 3 comments.
I may not look back, but I am still a tad bitter.
First of all…
Standing up with a tambourine and chanting “we love Heather”.
There, now you have your luv.
Second… You can see how many hits you get on your blog? How the hell might one go about doing that, and why wasn’t I informed earlier?
Missy
I agree with Amy–we are spoiled because of the immediate gratification. Everyone loves comments, but are we becoming too dependent on them? (deep thought)
HI! My name is Kate and Im a big time Lurker. I <3′s your writing and your blog and you are funny and awesome etc etc. But see, its not you, its me. I never feel like I have anything ‘good’ to say. I’ll try harder…promise
Nuh uh! Heather. Don’tcha love irony. Now ya wanna come to comment on me. You do and I’ll kiss (sorry, freudian slip) kick your pandering ass! Jeez, sweet thing, You gotta at least read your own post. There are rules ya know, you Mobile cyclone, you! ~Rick
Marinka: You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?
Kate: As if what you said wasn’t good? My god, I love it, though Wally may have to insult my cooking tonight to help keep me real.
Rick: Oh, I’m gonna hunt you down now.
Yep, I love comments. They validate my blogosphere existence. However, there seems to be NO rhyme or reason. The best posts do not always get the most comments. So, I just try to keep it real and make connections. It’s like high school though, it’s hard to not compare yourself to the cool kids and feel like you’re not measuring up.
I’m gonna upgrade my Grammy’s advice to apply to blogging:
You will always find someone with more comments AND less comments than you. When you stop comparing yourself to others, you will find peace within yourself.
I think that you are so good that people (me) are sometimes too intimidated to comment…(that will end my ass-kissing for today thankyouverymuch!)
you should write about sex more. everyone has SOMETHING to say about sex. or pies. or perhaps you should design some type of sexy pie….mmmm delicious and orgasmic.
I feel like I have to be witty in my comments so I just stop commenting.
It is like crack for the soul but the “really good posts” never get as many comments cuz people are just so darn gut struck. working had out here to stay under the radar and say anything I feel like not what will get me “lots of action”
Sometimes I see really genius entries with few comments and I think it’s because there’s nothing left to say. A really well thought out, well written post needs no additional comments because it’s been said already by the original author.
I have to agree that sometimes it’s hard to comment because there’s a lot of pressure to be funny or thoughtful and, frankly, I kind of want to save that shit for my own posts. (That last sentence also shows that sarcasm doesn’t always translate well in comments either, especially if the person doesn’t read your blog and understand your humor.)
Ummm…but I love me some comments, too!!
Most of the time I get here too late, and every comment I think of has been posted somewhere, by someone cute and clever.
I don’t have the readership you do, so I am delighted if I ever reach 20 comments. But then, gettting comments was not the reason I started a blog. I am not trying to be a writer, I am just a singer/performer who journals about the cool experiences I get to participate in ( Like meeting the band BLONDIE last week ). LOL Maybe my breast cancer song when it gets released this year, will become super famous and then my blog/journal will be turned into a book after I die. Yeah thats it, but I will probably have to die first before it gets noticed, hehe, at least I will have been here…..;).
You are funny girl, love your writing. I mostly lurk, for the above mentioned excuse, but every time a post of yours hits my feed, I come see what you have to say, so count a few extra views in there at least, even if you dont see our comments.
Honestly, I think a lot of blogs that get tons of comments get them because it’s “lowest common denominator” writing, ie, requires little thought or effort. (Or maybe I’m just lying to myself to make myself feel better, who knows?)
One thing I DO know is I find myself commenting less on the blogs I really love (like yours, and I’m honestly not kissing up. Much.
because they’re so good. I don’t have the easy comment to throw out because I need to sit with what was said.
And I want so badly to say something intelligent, which sometimes, frankly, is beyond me .
Well now if I don’t leave a comment I’m just an asshole.
We’re out here. I am just not a big commenter, unless I feel I have something to add.
I like to get comments, of course, but it’s really not a big deal to me either way. Maybe this is why I am not a rock star in the blog world. But that’s okay, because I really don’t care about that too much, either.
I’m just here for the booze.
Weren’t most famous authors anti-social?
Hey with more comments come more critcism and you can keep that shit. I don’t need people with all their judgements knocking on my door. I mean people are knocking one blogger because she is not telling the whys of her big move. Get over yourselves, people, it is a personal blog and that means people can personally leave you the hell out of it.
And what are you complaining about, Heather, you get tons of comments. Tons compared to others who get, well, NONE. You know you are the shits we don’t need to tell you all the time.
Couple of thoughts –
1) I started having comment anxiety the moment I published my first post – over three years ago. I’ve done no small amount of hand-wringing over the whole issue since then. I, too, am perplexed and sometimes angered when I am reading blogs and see really, really great work out there – work that transcends blogging – that receives 10 or less comments and then people posting in a quasi-clever way about the latest trip to Target getting anywhere from 57 to 381 comments. I just cannot figure it out.
2) I worry over my own comments way too much. I have seen the whole Secret Sauce approach and have been tempted. But I realized, too, that I want comments to come from a place of authentic response, not from seeing a badge in my sidebar. (I’m sure I just offended many, but that’s the truth for me.)
This has caused me to realize that the fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars, but in ourselves that we are underlings – which is to say that perhaps if I were a better writer who was daily or even weekly crafting work that couldn’t help but to elicit genuine response, then maybe I would get more comments.
3) You’ll not love this – but because I’ve been worrying over comments too much lately, I’ve turned off comments for Lent to refocus on what and why I write.
finally
4) I read daily here but comment little out of sheer intimidation. You are truly one of the funniest, most clever writers that I read. You are also crazy intelligent. I don’t comment often because I figure every time I leave a comment here, I come one step closer to revealing to you and your impressive audience just how brilliantly UNclever I am. So there’s that. I don’t comment because you are SO GOOD.
Geez, now you’ll have me thinking about sunshine and kisses all day. Thanks, I needed a distraction at work.
This comment is organic and did not consume any trees in it’s posting.
First: I came here to insist you comment on my current blog post because of all people on the earth I know you will feel kinship to it. (ie-I want Heather’s opinion. Heh.)
Second: I feel all typity-type-typey and chatty, and I am on Nyquil and feel more than a wee bit stoned, so this may be long.
My comment numbers swing wildly. I can have hundreds, or I can have 20 or so. It used to drive me nuts with worry. I love comments. It has helped me live with not being a professional singer. Kind of my daily dose of applause if you will.
I also loved commenting. I used to comment everywhere about everything. Not to get reciprocation, I just freaking LOVE to talk! (As you will find out if you get your ass to BlogHer).
However, I have become an internet recluse for many, many reasons. I rarely pipe up anywhere any longer even though I still read and check in. (LONNNNG story)
So, since that is how I am now I was able to let a lot of my anxiety about comments go. How can I expect people to pipe up on my blog when I keep so much to myself lately. (Btw-My sudden silence caused a lot of hurt feelings in my blogging world. I really don’t have many options right now but I wouldn’t recommend it. Just so you know.)
One other thing helped. (The following is not bragging. TRUST ME.)
I got a taste of what it would be like to be a really, fucking HUGE blogger all because of one post. (We’re talking about 75,000 hits ON ONE DAMN POST.)
It.has.effing.SUCKED.
I am now almost up to SEVEN HUNDRED COMMENTS on a post I wrote at the end of January about a douche bag husband that pissed off the country on an episode of Wife Swap. And that is after I deleted over TWO HUNDRED COMMENTS about regarding death threats, xxx-rated lingo or his personal information.
It taught me a lot.
For one?
DEAR GOD I NEVER WANT TO BE A HUGE BLOG. Like, EVER.
Also, the number of comments can have NOTHING to do with what I write or the quality of it, but sometimes it can. So? It can be too confusing to gauge.
Often the comments are just people yipping and yapping to get the attention of the blog author. (This opinion is from other blogs I read, not mine. Trust me.)
There are some very, very, very, VERY crazy people on the internet. If you get a lot of comments you are guaranteed to have a percentage of them be THOSE kind. And those kind SUCK.
(I will totally cop to loving the ad revenue though.)
And finally?
People WUV you. Respect you and what you do. Think you’re all kinds of wicked funny and insightful and deadly serious at times.
I have the respect of some DAMN good bloggers and writers that I admire. Even if they don’t ever comment, they know me and respect what I do and like it. That is way better than a number if you know what I mean.
I think if you do this game long enough, more and more of worries like this die down or stop. At least, that’s how it has gone for me.
Totally long and rambley. Hey, I’m hormonal and on Nyquil. It’s as close to drunk dialing as I will ever get.
I totally pay attention to the comments b/c it’s so much easier than hauling out the statcounter to see how many people visited that day.
I like your Hemmingway reference — although halfway through your post, I was thinking, well Hemmingway would have just threatened people with random violence until he got blog comments. Maybe you should try that option.
I am a comment whore, I have admitted it many times. I hate when I post something and think now that will get comments, make people think….then nothing. But I post nonsense and WAM, comment within a minute.
Heather, just an aside-I thought we loved you because you were an alcoholic ass hole like Hemmingway. See-I’m always out of the loop. Gonna have to find somethin else to love about ya. I got married in Key West on a lark. Had to pay a lady on the street ten dollars to witness. I can see you and Ernie in my wedding party. Oh, yeah! big time! Yeah, still married to her, but not sure it’s legal. Don’t ya have to be sober or wait three days or some such shit? ~Rick
Part of me thinks, Hey! Maybe I should become like the James Patterson or Nora Roberts of blogging, but cripes, that would mean putting out a new blog post every damn half hour, and, plain and simple, I’m lazy. Like LAYZEEE, with lots more Es.
I like coming here, I like when I open my email and find you’ve been at my place. Comments are like hot dogs we warm up in the microwave. They are not always good for us, but we like them regardless, and even though it takes 30 seconds to warm up a hot dog in the microwave, we wonder where the comments are 30 seconds after a post is put out there in the world. Or maybe I’m drunk right now.
No, I’m not. Just to clarify. Sadly.
I am very intimadated by bloggers so I just lurk. I love to read but can’t write.
I’m totally going with the ‘will be far more appreciated after death’ thing.
Since blissdom, I’ve been trying to visit as many sites as I can to share some ‘comment love’. Not because I think it will increase my traffic; cause it hasn’t. I do it because as a writer, I take great pride in making another smile/laugh/think or whatever. I like to let others know that I have enjoyed their hard work. I write for me; as I’m sure you do too. I write because I feel like I am sharing a story. If no one but my family ever reads it, then fine. But if I have made one stranger smile, then it’s been a good day.
Today, you made me laugh.
And reminded me that I think I owe you a buck from blissdom…
Was the post worth a dollar?
I must have hit the big time, I had someone call me a nazi in a comment! WHOOT!
Forty four comments—– whoo hooo- boy are you gonna feel like shit tomorrow when you don’t get any- but congrats on today!!!!
Seeing comments waiting for you is the most intoxicating drug. (Un)fortunuantely, at the rate MINE come in, I’ll never be an addict!!!
I know it was all a joke and you aren’t really a comment whore…you punk’d us! Good job.
I dream of getting 10 comments!
I love this post! Thanks to the lovely stats counter (read: devil from hell) on my blog I know tons of folks read…but I rarely get comments. It’s giving me a complex. So I understand…. But at the same time I kinds got carried away with the amount of blogs I was trying to read to the point when I wanted to comment, I couldn’t….cause I had to move on to READ, READ, READ! SO I had a “purging” this weekend of bookmarked blogs. It was like breaking up with someone…but if they weren’t the most cherished they got the ole delete button. So far it’s helped free me up to comment when I want rather than the pressure of reading til my eyes cross. ha.
Thankfully I hung on to yours
Doooood. I turned off my comments for a while because I was getting SO INVESTED in the numbers. Even today, I was obsessing over the comments on a freaking GUEST POST.
A. FREAKING. GUEST. POST.
Solution? I don’t even know. I try to be happy with getting ANY comments. Some days it works, others? Not so much. I figure as long as I’m happy with what I’m writing, that’s good enough. (What? I like to lie to myself. DON’T JUDGE ME!)
I started my blog saying, “Oh, I’m just writing for myself, I don’t care if I get comments, blah, blah, blah.”
Man, was I wrong!
In a world where we are always waiting for crap, i appreciate a little instant gratification.
He he he.
First, my comments drop as my subscribers grow. Bastards are reading in the feedreaders and not even a blog stat to feed my deflating ego.
That Pioneer chick gets a bajillion comments on a pic of a cow. I am thinking I need some cows.
We need to do one of those delurker things. But with venom. Like ‘I know this chick that can ulcerate your pancreas by just thinking about it if you read this and don’t comment dammit’
You can make the button.
Deal?