Yoda wasn’t at Mumsnet’s #Blogfest on Saturday, but, all weekend I could hear him snorting at me “Much to learn, you still have, young Padawan”
I knew that I should probably spend some time figuring out how to put in a photo (like, above, would be nice if there was a piccie of me and Yoda, right?) and thinking about what purpose my ramblings have…
…well, I’m kind of embarrassed to have realised that blogs aren’t meant for ramblings. Nope. Serious business. Actual business.
I knew that some folk made money from their blog, and some landed up with columns and books and advising the Government because their blogs highlighted something important that had never had a forum. I’m not a total dinosaur.
But, I had no idea that people did 40 drafts of each post.
40 drafts! My jaw hit the floor and what flitted through my mind was “why?”, the Mumsnetters all nodded and laughed that knowing laugh women have when they recognise a shared, accepted, slightly frustrating bit of life.
So, I polajise fur ma ytpos adn bad grammyir. I thought blogging was supposed to be like a stream of consciousness and that everyone was just naturally funny. To be honest, it’s a great relief to hear that’s 40 drafts-worth-of-funny.
What happened to me at #Blogfest was a very steep learning curve and a sharp realisation that I’m never going to do it.
Happily, just before I burst into I’m-such-an-inadequate tears, I had a conversation with a couple of people in the Green Room (yes, you know who they are, no, I’m not name dropping, yes, I’m not-name-dropping just to annoy you, this sort of thing never happens to me and I’m milking it) the conclusion of which was “fuck it”.
I COULD spend the time figuring out wordpress – but, it’d be better spent writing my book that I procrastinate over. Beeban Kidron said as much. Well, she said it about her, and I’m in agreement.
So, I’m going to take the advice of the best-selling authors and social-media gurus and get on with what I’m good at. Which is, collecting fart jokes.
I have four years worth of scribbles and doodles which are The Book. Nick Hornby said that if you write 500 words a day you’d have a novel by the end of the year. I’ve got until the end of the month, minor detail, right?
Thanks to Mumsnet for letting me have a go on their stage. I met some extraordinary people, some of whom were the speakers, but, most of whom were Mumsnetters.
It always amazes me what happens when you get a roomful of women. Stuff. Stuff happens – the laughter and camaraderie and support are obvious – but, I’m talking about the campaigning. Some campaigns are small and personal, some are big and for the masses, but all of them are changing our worlds.
Including mine. Which started off with one fallen fanjo and is now eyeing up yours. Change the world, one pelvic floor at a time.
Next step is to spend 40 drafts compiling a proposal about why Mumsnet should run a campaign on continence. So far it reads “because there are loads of fannies reading Mumsnet”. Needs a bit of work.
I covet a beautiful blog. It’s never going to happen. This is as good as it’s going to get – amateurish and featureless.
Anyone who makes a joke that “amateurish and featureless” is like me all over is getting my pelvic floor in their face.
Not that. That’s mibbes a bit sinister. Also, My pelvic floor is neither amateurish nor featureless.
See, if I’d done a draft I’d have had something clever to finish on. Penny drops.
Ach, fuckit. <presses publish>