So as I’m sure you’ve noticed, things have been quiet around here lately.
A large part of that is my fault. You see, when I first started Crunchy Squirrel, I had this big idea. A grand story, if you will. The story went something like this:
Once upon a time, an internet hopeful with a thing for squirrels had a baby. As a consequence, she spent a lot – a LOT – of time reading parenting blogs. And homemaking blogs. And natural living (ie “crunchy”) blogs. And looking at all the beautiful homey things on Pinterest. And generally having a yearning for the Little Suzy Homemaker kind of life, with dinner on the table at 7, a chipmunk dressed lovingly in hand-made clothes, and lunches packed for the Raccoon’s sustenance out in the big bad world of study.
And a blog – oh! What magic could happen on a blog? My very own piece of internet real estate, where I could share all the wonderful home-y things I’ve done! Recipes! And Crafts! Pinterest buttons and helpful To-Do lists! Finally joining the ranks of Real Writers Who Write on The Internet, the (in?)famous mommy-blogger circle. Getting my work out there. Being Seen.
Now, if there’s something that’s pounded home in the make-money-blogging circles, it’s this: Your Site Must Have A Theme. A Topic. One Big Idea behind which all your content is shaped and poured. Otherwise nobody will read your work. And on the internet, no readers = no monetization potential = no money. And I’m not going to lie, part of the reason I pick up pen and paper open laptop and type is to make money. Even just paying for hosting and an occasional café outing would be a nice perk.
I thought that “home making and parenting of the natural/crunchy bent” was a broad enough theme to keep me going, while being niche enough to work. Alas, my tastes are broader than that. My Big Idea wasn’t big enough to sustain the drive. My brain doesn’t work in the kind of way that lets me post day-in, day-out, about just one (or even the two or four) topics covered by Crunchy Squirrel’s original theme. Which brings me to my next point.
Playing a mean second fiddle to the “Big Idea” precept is the following: You Must Update Regularly.
Now, in and of itself it’s a good idea, and one I strive to follow (not that you’d know it). The problem lies in the definition of the word “regular”. The professionals seem to think anything less than three times a week is unacceptable. On par with only brushing your teeth bi-monthly.
Needless to say, this did not go as I had hoped.
So I started with a grand dream in mind, and did my best to follow The Rules For Success as laid down by The Internet Marketers™.
Of course, life being what it is, that dream is still just that. And I’ve been letting the story of what I though this space should be – what all the snazzy internet people who make money blogging SAY this space should be – get in the way of what I WANT this space to be.
Such is an excellent recipe for writer’s block and motivation-less living.
And now that I’ve related my tale of woe, dear reader, What’s next? What’s in it for you?
In a word: Me.
My philosophical conundrums, my disjointed attempts at life.
My bad days as well as my good ones (though I hope to keep the bad few and far between).
My “literary” work as well as my trade-work.
Links to things I find useful, inspirational, provocative. And if a link doesn’t exist, or it’s crap, or I did better, then a DIY/how to/tutorial.
The “why-tos” as well as the “how-tos”.
Maybe even some poetry, if I can bear to subject the unsuspecting to that.
To cut the prose for a minute, think more “personal blog meant to inspire” and less “cookie cutter themed website with just enough of a twist to make you think it’s unique”.
Because frankly, dear reader, almost everything I could ever do a DIY post on has been said already. In many cases it’s been said better than I can articulate – at least without sounding like a plagiarising hack.
I still plan to post the homemaker-y things that had me start this little venture in the first place. But I also intend to share much, much more. I am an multi-faceted being, after all. Cutting my facets to one broad stroke of the brush just isn’t doing it for me.
Here’s hoping you’ll stick around for the ride.
Love, Phoenix (the Crunchy Squirrel)