I found myself enjoying (for lack of a better term) an existential crisis in terms of my CultureFeast identity. For so long, I focused on the Google Analytics, and constantly looked for blog topics that would draw in search visitors. But I don’t need to rank for Randy Galloway’s name or discuss the latest web 2.0 news to enjoy a fulfilling blog culture. CultureFeast has been anything but focused, and that means I have been anything but focused.
I reprimanded myself this evening when I realized that I no longer enjoyed blogging. I contribute to four blogs and one article column, and I am sick and tired of fitting into the mold of SEO / copywriter / PR consultant. Each of those jobs can be rewarding to the right person, but that person is not me… at least, not right now.
Yes, I will continue to offer those services to those in need. But there’s more to me than marketing. Way before I knew anything about marketing, I wanted to write books. I wanted to tell stories and I wanted to share life experiences. Ideally, I would find a market in young, curious adults who have more questions than answers. No, I don’t pretend to offer all the solutions to life’s problems, but perhaps I could share some wisdom that would make other people’s lives easier and less confusing.
The problem with writing from the heart is that people read what you write. It’s much like journaling, only without the privacy.Â That means that in the midst of my professional pursuits, those snoopy clients, employers, etc. may very well track me down online and read these words and reconsider working with me based on my publicized opinions and views.
Hence the spineless underpinnings of the blogosphere. Those intensely popular and utterly shallow industry blogs. Okay, I’m being a bit harsh, but only because I have no respect for an industry that promotes lives without political, ethical, spiritual, or moral beliefs. Everyone is so nice, they have no personality. We’re all a bunch of identity-less bloggers who have sold out to become well known.
Well, you can have it. I’d rather be uncommon. I’d rather be true to myself than to make millions as the how-to guy.