How to completely disregard Wanky's Rules For Wealth Through Blogging, Part 1.
Now that I am more or less settled back into a routine at home, I've had time to digest the sage words of a guy named Wanky, or the Wankmeister if you want to use his more formal title. He's the author of the often funny, frequently profane, rarely profound, and always entertaining Cycling in the South Bay blog. I subscribed to his blog (I get more out of it than any of the current magazine subscriptions I have), and am in the process of reading his book. If you haven't visited his blog already, go ahead and spend a few hours perusing the posts. His entry on Jeff Dusenbury was much better than mine.
After I subscribed to his blog, I felt entitled to demand he reveal his secrets of wealth through blogging, which completely subsidizes his hobby law firm. I also require him to divulge the method by which I could bleed off his fanatical fan base, thus raising my own readership by tens.
Like a simple fool, he responded with a thoughtful message, then compounded his error by including it in a blog post with a link to this blog. Overnight my already-impressive (for a blog) single-digit numbers spiked. My path to old guy racing blog supremacy is now assured.
So, to give the suggestions the full consideration they deserve (before I disregard them completely), here are a couple in all of their glory:
"The most interesting thing you have going for you, aside from what appears to be an incredibly fascinating middle-aged married white guy’s mediocre bike racing life, is Alaska. To you perhaps this is just where you live, but to me it is like having a blog called “Cycling on Jupiter,” only more interesting. Moose attacks, grizzly bear racing, and run-ins with Iditarod racers should all be standard fare in your blog and daily life, and this is not the time to stand on the ceremony of truth, honesty, or facts."
Fair enough. I guess I gloss over the Alaska part of the whole thing. Mentions of bear at a certain part of the course during race meetings are not exactly rare occurrences. Moose are annoyances instead of decorating motifs. Most of us in the local bike community give the wildlife room to do what they want to do so we can do what we want to do. That is, except for Darcy (moose) and Petra Davis (bear), who might be throwing out some sort of pheromone as they ride. Close up, a lot of Iditarod racers resemble meth addicts. Exotic for some, sure, but after a while it becomes normal. For me, Alaska isn't a destination- it's home. I guess I should see through the same eyes as the tourists that flood the bike paths every summer.
"If you’re seeking a wider audience you should write less about yourself in the first person. A good way to quickly identify whether a blog is too me-centric is to briefly scan it and see how often the writer uses “I,” “me,” “mine,” and other relatives of the first person. In other words, the personal works best as an accent for the impersonal."
This is one I struggle with. The cycling world is pretty small. The bicycle road racing world is a minuscule part of that. The bicycle road racing world in Alaska is only visible with a scanning transmission electron holography microscope. Other than me, there's like 5 other guys. If I want to continue to dress up in lycra and ride around in circles with a group, I probably shouldn't let them know what I really think of them.
Seriously, while I like some people in this weird community more than others, they're all pretty awesome. I could use nicknames for certain individuals when pointing out flaws in their riding or character, but eventually the other 4 would figure it out and someone would get all offended. I generally take great pride in my ability to offend, but there's that wanting-to-race-around-in-circles-in-lycra thing that holds me back. In addition, any of the faults I can point out in others generally applies in spades with me. I generally suck at this sport.
Plus, I'm an ego-centric douchebag. This is all about me.
"Consistency in publication. I understand that it’s hard to crank out a blog post more than once every six months, but you can do this!"
If it means having the liquid assets of a Kardashian (along with their Photoshopping skills to break the internet), I guess I can make the effort to post at least quarterly. It will take valuable time away from my igloo building and seal clubbing, but making time for what's really important is what it's all about.
When I have time fully digest Wanky's other suggestions and craft suitably snarky responses, I'll post Part II. Until then, expect plenty more of me (and only me) flogging my dog team across the frozen wastelands of Los Anchorage.
After I subscribed to his blog, I felt entitled to demand he reveal his secrets of wealth through blogging, which completely subsidizes his hobby law firm. I also require him to divulge the method by which I could bleed off his fanatical fan base, thus raising my own readership by tens.
Like a simple fool, he responded with a thoughtful message, then compounded his error by including it in a blog post with a link to this blog. Overnight my already-impressive (for a blog) single-digit numbers spiked. My path to old guy racing blog supremacy is now assured.
So, to give the suggestions the full consideration they deserve (before I disregard them completely), here are a couple in all of their glory:
"The most interesting thing you have going for you, aside from what appears to be an incredibly fascinating middle-aged married white guy’s mediocre bike racing life, is Alaska. To you perhaps this is just where you live, but to me it is like having a blog called “Cycling on Jupiter,” only more interesting. Moose attacks, grizzly bear racing, and run-ins with Iditarod racers should all be standard fare in your blog and daily life, and this is not the time to stand on the ceremony of truth, honesty, or facts."
Fair enough. I guess I gloss over the Alaska part of the whole thing. Mentions of bear at a certain part of the course during race meetings are not exactly rare occurrences. Moose are annoyances instead of decorating motifs. Most of us in the local bike community give the wildlife room to do what they want to do so we can do what we want to do. That is, except for Darcy (moose) and Petra Davis (bear), who might be throwing out some sort of pheromone as they ride. Close up, a lot of Iditarod racers resemble meth addicts. Exotic for some, sure, but after a while it becomes normal. For me, Alaska isn't a destination- it's home. I guess I should see through the same eyes as the tourists that flood the bike paths every summer.
"If you’re seeking a wider audience you should write less about yourself in the first person. A good way to quickly identify whether a blog is too me-centric is to briefly scan it and see how often the writer uses “I,” “me,” “mine,” and other relatives of the first person. In other words, the personal works best as an accent for the impersonal."
This is one I struggle with. The cycling world is pretty small. The bicycle road racing world is a minuscule part of that. The bicycle road racing world in Alaska is only visible with a scanning transmission electron holography microscope. Other than me, there's like 5 other guys. If I want to continue to dress up in lycra and ride around in circles with a group, I probably shouldn't let them know what I really think of them.
Seriously, while I like some people in this weird community more than others, they're all pretty awesome. I could use nicknames for certain individuals when pointing out flaws in their riding or character, but eventually the other 4 would figure it out and someone would get all offended. I generally take great pride in my ability to offend, but there's that wanting-to-race-around-in-circles-in-lycra thing that holds me back. In addition, any of the faults I can point out in others generally applies in spades with me. I generally suck at this sport.
Plus, I'm an ego-centric douchebag. This is all about me.
"Consistency in publication. I understand that it’s hard to crank out a blog post more than once every six months, but you can do this!"
If it means having the liquid assets of a Kardashian (along with their Photoshopping skills to break the internet), I guess I can make the effort to post at least quarterly. It will take valuable time away from my igloo building and seal clubbing, but making time for what's really important is what it's all about.
When I have time fully digest Wanky's other suggestions and craft suitably snarky responses, I'll post Part II. Until then, expect plenty more of me (and only me) flogging my dog team across the frozen wastelands of Los Anchorage.
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