As someone who was once (self) proclaimed as the distinctive voice of my generation, I can't pretend I have enjoyed the seemingly steady slide into obscurity since I officially 'retired' from being a jobbing-journalist.
The odd syndicated article in the Harpenden Gazette notwithstanding, I have had to slowly acknowledge that my time in the spotlight was over. The halcyon days of my scoops at the Stockport Sentinel are but dusty memories - yellowing cuttings stored in boxes in my attic, yesterday's news that quickly became today's fish and chip wrappings. Or, rather, the day after yesterday's. If you know what I mean.
When I was first introduced to the world of blogging, I'll admit I thought I'd easily recreate my audience. The early signs were encouraging. My technologically-adept son, Jasper, assured me with his regular analysis of the stats gleaned from Statcounter that my readers were, indeed, weeping. Then, the rot set in. Perhaps I took my new-found fame for granted - although it would be a brave man indeed who accused me of that. Whatever the reasons, no matter how often I mentioned Wetherspoons, Waterloo Street in Oldham, Prolectrix products or Kappa tracksuit fetishes, my readers seemed to melt away.
As reality started to bite, it was easy to start posting less frequently.
Until, that is, Jasper rang me last night.
'Pa!' he exclaimed - 'Your stats have just gone mental!' Apparently, my recent post about Bob Dylan had touched a nerve amongst the recent readers of the online fanzine Expecting Rain. To underline the point, he faxed me through the Statcounter figures which, in case there are any circulation auditors out there reading this, I am more than happy to reproduce below:
As you can see, I think I accidentally stumbled on blogging Paydirt - my average 10 or 11 visitors per day increased to 550 just by an accidental mention of the singer from Hibbing (I wouldn't want to tempt fate by mentioning his name so, rather like the Scottish Play, I'll resist).
There's a lesson in this somewhere. When I've worked it out, I'll be back. Broken, but not unbowed. Or something like that.
Of course, it's quite possible that my circulation increase was due to the free fridge magnet in my last post - so here's another one.
7 comments:
When I find my readership flagging I usually find sex helps - in the keywording.
Yes, like my success with women, it encourages hoards of readers - all of them to be disappointed when they arrive!
I would never like to be found flagging, or disappointing my readers, Crofty. That's why I never mention the S** word. Or rarely. ;-)
I'll do a 'stumble' Mr Blunt - anything to help another chap ...
Oh dear - I tried a 'stumble' but it won't let me at the moment ..... I'll try later ......
DP ... at my stage in life, and blogging, I am happy to be stumbled, tripped or otherwise just fallen over. My advisers are working on a strategy to increase my circulation even as I type. It may involve Bingo.
The two topics I recommend for boosting your stats are Elizabeth Hurley's Indian wedding and the chef John Torode. Torode doesn't seem to have a website and consequently Google searchers are directed to my scathing review of his restaurant. Hurley delivers hits week after week.
Excellent advice, Gail! Good to know that Torode can be relied upon to Beef up the stats! Now, if only Bob Dylan could be spotted with Liz on his arm, ducking into JT's restaurant, I think I could have it cracked!
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