So, it’s been fun. But this will be the last post that I will share on the notaneffingfairytale Facebook page.
I might scrap this Facebook page all together, I might hand it over to someone else (more on that in a bit) but what ever happens, I won’t be using it to share ‘blog’ posts again.
Do you know the story of why I started notaneffingfairytle?
It was off the back of a blog I was writing for someone else’s website.
Only, she was taking all the credit. I wrote a parenting blog for her and under each post and on her Facebook page were reams of messages telling her how wonderful she was (oh yeah, she was taking the credit for my writing), and asking if she wanted to join this or that, or would she like to review things.
I have had blogs before. I ran a travel blog site for ten years which did really well and got me in the Times Saturday supplements. So I knew that if you had a good blog, there was serious cash to be made. And this woman was starting to make if. From my words.
I think my parting words to her were, “fuck off, you cunt” and I took all my work from her site and put it on here. And called it Notaneffingfairytale. Because I was drunk and Edie had left her fucking Frozen dolls out and when I am drunk, I think I am fucking hilarious.
I knew nothing about parenting blogs, but I thought I would give it a go.
As it turns out, I was a shite parenting blogger.
I cannot stand writing about children (unless you pay me for it as the website woman was, then I will pretend) but on my own. it was crap.
It wasn’t my style and my kids, God love them, are boring. I don’t want to write about them. Or anyone else’s children for that matter, real or fictional.
So I started just writing whatever I wanted and starting using this site as a place to dump everything I was writing for other publications.
But I’m a writer, I am not a blogger. There is a subtle difference. Not to say that Bloggers aren’t writers but blogging is what they do. Bloggers work at thier blogs. They make a success of them.
When I tried to be a blogger I met some wonderful bloggers who are just bloody brilliant at it. They know what to write about, they have a style, a niche. I only have to read the first few lines of a blog and I know who instantly wrote it.
They know how to do Facebook properly, take time to join link ups, join in with all the bloggers Facebook groups, make good relationships with brands. They do it well.
I didn’t. I did it sort of half heartedly, writing about benefits and self harm and shagging. I have a writing style but that’s not the same as a niche.
I’m not lifestyle, i’m not parenting, I’m not comedy, I’m a miss mash of nothing really.
Bloggers work with people. They work with companies to promote brands. Funnily enough, not may PRs want to work with a blogger who’s taglines have been, “Perveyour of filth”, “the world’s shittiest blog site” or “the take a break magazine of the blogging world”.
I lost sight of what I actually wanted to do which was write, which is so different from blogging. If you are a good blogger, blogging is a job. If you are a blogger who makes no money, blogging is a fun hobby where you get to meet a whole new set of friends. I didn’t know what I was. I’ve made money from sponsored posts but not enough to call myself a ‘proper blogger’.
I’ve been thinking this over since October.
And over Christmas I was really down about it all. Like, crying. Over a blog. Which I didn’t set out to do in the first place. This weekend I have a project launching. I have already closed down my other blog (dress like a fat (skint) mum), because for fucks sake, I am not a fashion blogger. This weekend seems the time to do it. To stop pretending to be a blogger and concentrate on other writing projects.
This Facebook page was basically a numbers game, so you can tell your social media stats to people who might want to pay you to do stuff. I haven’t got the inclination to use it properly.
If you look at proper bloggers sites, they interact on their Facebook groups. They post often and build up a relationship with tier followers. I do it once in a blue moon if I can be arsed and i don’t know most of the 5,000 of you from Adam.
I have met some great people from joining link ups and bloggers groups on Facebook.
But when you spend your day filling in google forms in the hope of getting a sponsored post and your heart isn’t in it, you do find yourself asking, why? What am I doing this for?
I’ve got new writing projects and commissions (and dull as shit content work to pay the bills) coming up now. The sort of projects that I should have been concentrating on in the first place instead of trying to be something I’m not. I don’t even spell check anything on here – that’s how little I care.
SO this Facebook page – what happens?
My friend is starting a blog. So I said, fuck it. I’ll make you the admin, you change the name, link it to your blog and use it. She mentioned that on a bloggers group and she got slaughtered for it. She was told it was unethical, that she would be taking the piss out of bloggers who had worked hard for a social following.
She was very upset about it all. I told her to grow a thicker skin and do it anyway.
I might use it as part of a new venture, again unethical but I seriously don’t give a monkey’s.
Anyhow, unless you seek out this website or follow it on WordPress then I guess you won’t be reading anything from me anymore.
I’ll still be using it as a dumping ground and for any shit that comes into my head. This is what this site has been great for – I have three books from ideas from the content on here and an idea for a TV script.
I might change the name of it, I might not.
I am quite attached to the notaneffingfairytale name as I have a lot of fond memories associated with it and the great bunch of bloggers I have met over the two years that I have been masquerading as a (shit) blogger for.
And I have always been SHIT at ending a blog post.