If a Tree Falls in the Forest…

For the past month (at least), I have been harassed daily (at least) by my colleague who is responsible for posting blog entries on our website.  Her job is not to write them – even though she has about 30 IQ points on me.  Instead, her job is to annoy me, occasionally with good humor, to be sure we regularly post interesting blogs related to our firm and the world of talent acquisition.


It wasn’t her idea to bug me; we asked her to do this.  It’s part of her job.  But she does embrace it with more passion and relish than anything else she does here.


But that’s not what I want to write about.  I want to write about why she has had to bug me for a month.  Sure, it takes time to write and I am constantly swamped.  It also requires that I come up with interesting topics – easier some days than others.


But I’m starting to think the reason I’ve been dragging my feet is because I don’t think anyone reads what I write.


Blogs are supposed to be one of the central social media marketing strategies for firms like ours who are trying to get noticed without spending tons of money on advertising.  We like that the blogs give us a chance to sound like the experts we are, maybe educate people along the way, and create a positive, attractive brand presence in our field.  Plus it gives the (false) impression that we are hip.


But how would I know if someone was actually reading what I write?  There is an easy-to-use comments section on our website.  Since we began our blogging efforts, I have posted 15 blogs.  I actually think some of them are pretty good, at the risk of being immodest.  But only four of those posts have received any comments at all from readers – with a total of less than 10 comments.  Let’s just say I’m not feeling the love.


Now I know my blog posts get sent out to the digital effluvium via Twitter, and end up posted on LinkedIn and for all I know may be posted in the lunchroom of the post office in Waukesha, Wisconsin.  And I know they are supposed to help with the holy grail of search engine optimization.  And there might be a reporter somewhere who looks at what I’ve written, thinks it has some marginal value and calls us for commentary on a story.  All of those things have actually happened since we’ve begun blogging.


But I’m at the age where I still read an actual, ink-on-my-hands newspaper in the morning.  And I have enormous trouble pretending that Twitter is a serious business tool.  And it makes me nuts that so much of our attention in this society is focused not on the content of what we read/view/listen to – but rather on the whiz bang vehicles that deliver the words and images to us.  And when I say these things, I feel like I am a hundred years old and rapidly becoming irrelevant.


So that’s why I was dragging my feet about writing my most recent blog post.  Anyone else feel the same way?