Early this morning I opened a newborn reader's very complimentary email sent overnight, and though complimentary, it has had me a bit rattled.
I am a recent convert to your blog. I believe I discovered you through Sullivan's blog itself [my site is linked in The Dish's blog list, and Sullivan is kind and ecumenical enough to link to some of my posts], and I'm so glad that I did. Yours is a fantastic, in my view, combination of wit, irreverence, and sound political commentary with a much-appreciated added element of really getting deep into history; something that I feel like most of the best blogs out there today sadly lack. Please keep it up, Sir....
My best guess is that your blog is to you something of a labor of love given that you don't get too many comments. A shame. I think you're on the short list of the best.
The reader is correct; mine is a labor of love, although in a few months or so (the email reminded me of this) I'll probably need to pursue my lifelong dream of flipping burgers for Big Boy, since labors of love do not, as they say, feed the bulldog, who in my little family happens to be a beautiful sophomore who enjoys eating three times a day. Labors of love are profoundly unsustainable. What really rattles me, however, is why this labor of love garners so few readers--on average a thousand a day; do the financial math--when so many of those readers also seem to love it. For some time I've expected the coming of legions of likeminded readers with likeminded tastes in (mostly political) blogging, yet breakout, I think they call it, is proving itself quite improbable, if not impossible.
Why is this so? I can't say for sure, but I have my suspicions. First, I'm not a hardcore partisan and on occasion I criticize President Obama, which devastates the stats. One critical word one day results in a critical plummeting of readership the next. There's a self-harming cause and effect in play that's undeniable. But, a political blog that only panders for numbers is a political blog I'd rather not write. If honesty is costly, then so be it. At least I'll go down with some self-respect. I realize the Zig Ziglars of the blogosphere would find this incredibly stupid--"the customer is always right"--but my big mouth seems to be congenitally unshrinkable. So sue me, as the object of my occasional criticism has put it.
And then there's Twitter, whose growing prominence seems to have taken a toll on blog readership. Why invest time in even 400 words when one can thrill to the high poetry of 140 characters? I'll cut this particular suspicion short. It's just too damned depressing. Perhaps I should develop just "Twit," which would unburden readers by limiting its literary potential to only 40 characters.
Mostly, though, I stink at self-promotion. Always have. I lack the Chris Matthews gene. In past, assorted endeavors I have succeeded in promoting others, but when it comes to promoting myself, I just stink. There's no more accurate way to assess my attempts.
Hence the point of all this sorryass wallowing in speculation: I could use a bit of help. I'm not yet prepared to cash this site in, and new readers such as the very kind, complimentary fellow who emailed last night only encourage my belief that the site indeed has a future. So, maybe, spread the word? Forward a link now and then? Just whatever tactics you can think of. Your choice. Because remember, my promotional ideas--which at any rate are somewhat on the absent side--stink.