Primarily for the benefit of the attendees, this is a brief memory-jogging précis a near-as-dammit transcription (I just can't help myself) of the talk which I gave to the Creative Collaborations "Your writing sucks" conference on Thursday morning.

"I am a blogger." From guilty grubby little secret, to something which wins "networking opportunities" at boutique hotels.

What is blogging?

Impossible to answer concisely ("dead air" on the Radio Nottingham breakfast show) - as for every rule an exception - BUT:

- reverse chronological
- short articles
- usually a single author
- frequently updated
- most recent article at top, older in archives
- most link to other blogs - "community" or loose network of overlapping communities
- most allow readers' comments

Produced via standard software:
- free, easy (no tech know-how, can get started in 10 mins), portable (no special software, just need browser and line)

Background.

Term dates to late 90s.
Started appearing from 1999 onwards - small self-contained group
cf. bursting of dot-com bubble
- "ants scurrying amdist the rubble of the dot-com crash"
- loss of original spirit of web (egalitarian/pioneering/enabling) - attempt to redress the balance
- Need To Know: "THEY STOLE OUR REVOLUTION/NOW WE'RE STEALING IT BACK"

Defining moment: 9/11
- bush telegraph ("so and so is safe, such and such is sealed off")
- oral history ("we were there, this is what it felt like")
"Big" media/old media interest - endless "discoveries" of blogging - mixed +ve/-ve reaction

Audience/reach.

Technorati says 20.5 million
...but most are "dead" sites
Better estimate of "active" sites: 3 or 4 million?

Vast majority have tiny readership, c.3-20 regulars
Big media says "you're failures" BUT these sites are INTENDED this way
- online diaries, cf. letters, round robins, Xmas newsletters
- small ring-fenced network of buddies, eg. Livejournal/Myspace, teens/early 20s, "my parents don't understand/school sucks/Green Day rules", bad Gothic angst poetry

Other end of scale: tiny number with readership in thousands
Especially in US - phenomenon more mainstream
Top few have 100,000+

Rest of us float around somewhere in the middle
Troubled Diva (TD) has 650-750 visitors a day
(notably less at weekends: I'm your coffee break/water cooler moment)
c.30% through search engines
c. 200-300 regulars who "follow" the blog
Quite high for UK - BUT - successful UK blog = #39 in Albanian singles charts

Subject matter.

95% online diary/journal, but few of the big hitters
Next most popular: political.
- reaction to 9/11
- few left wing or party political
- many libertarian or "hawk" re. US foreign policy
- politicians (Boris Johnson)
- commentators: journalists (Stephen Pollard/Melanie Phillips) & many wannabe journos!
- can be dense/complex/difficult to plot on trad left/right axis

Celebrities (Moby/Streisand/Paul Daniels/Scott "Dilbert" Adams), but cannot engage with readers due to remote status - so in "blogosphere" perspective, marginalised figures

Special interest: music, MP3, hand-drawn, photo, sports, creative writing, business/marketing, web design, web punditry, sex, food, knitting, God...

Confessional aspect.

- depression/divorce/sexual misdemeanours etc etc
- cathartic for writer, car crash rubbernecking for readers?
- "online disinhibition effect"
- liberating effect of screen: confession booth/heart to heart with friend/therapist
- "I'm insignificant"/"no one will find me"
- OH YES THEY WILL!

Many, many examples
- people have been sacked ("Dooced")
- sites closed abruptly
- own experience (unfairly bitchy account of posh lunch party, found by friend of the hosts)
- assume that they WILL find what you've said, don't say anything wouldn't say to face
- stick to being rude about politicians/celebs: that's what we pay them for!

OR... stick to YOURSELF as subject
- hence criticism "bloggers are self-obsessed"
- goes with the territory

My own category... "personality" bloggers.

Not usually categorised as such
Sink or swim on attributes of writer's personality
That's what hooks readers & brings them back
Not always WHAT we write about but the WAY we say it
Can you take a day where nothing happened, and still make it interesting?

My own blog - background.

Started 4 years ago by accident/curiosity/desire to imitate (Single White Female)
No clue what to do with it at start
Friends & family not interested
Started getting comments, leaving comments, others reading my comments, checking my site, if they like it they stick around
Unexpected alternative audience of strangers, small but growing
Dsicovered "blogrolls" (lists of favourite blogs, kept on sidebar)

My defining moment: 40 in 40 days project
Autobiographical 40 day series
Established a readership
Found my voice - or had I? - considered, "writerly", literary aspirations

As time went on, relaxed this voice
- more pseudo-conversational, immediate, rough & ready
- "first draft", doesn't HAVE to be polished (written in gaps during the day, time pressure)
- may look crap in print, but not intended for that - immediacy part of charm

Discovered blogging heirarchy, "A list", blogging awards (The Bloggies)
- horrified - against egalitarian principles - "they're not all that"
- or jealous?
- then nominated myself this year
- volte-face, "so glad my dear friend so and so is nominated", like pigs at end of Animal Farm
- but we evolve!

Success of blog - mentions in press etc - largest pressure - stage fright/"stats vertigo" - visualise 3 or 4 people in room, now a whole crowd

Finding of own voice.

Whole medium geared towards it
INSTANT - INTERACTIVE
Idea for post - one hour later it's published - one hour later there's comments - instant feedback
Know exactly how people are reacting, all the time
Can monitor stats - like stock exchange index - can dip, then strong content makes them rise again (we all check them!)
Can see when blog is linked by others
- or individual posts are linked
- or when added to/removed from blogrolls
I engage my readers
- talk to them, e-mails with them
- read their own blogs

...I KNOW WHO MY READERS ARE

Therefore can precisely target content, BUT more sub-consciously than overtly
You simply learn to write with your audience in mind

Not all bloggers take this approach
NME indie band: "we just do what we do & if anyone else happens to like it, that's a bonus"
I'm the opposite!

BUT... at the same time, write with YOURSELF as audience
- the sort of blog YOU'D want to read

so a kind of happy serendipity at work

also... ITERATIVE.
Most blogs don't hook you in at first read
Takes time, repeated visits, build up picture of writer, want to know more about them.

AUTHENTICITY valued highly in "blogosphere"
(even if content filtered through persona - jokey, drama-queeny etc)
- blog readers are constantly sifting/evaluating - making quick judgements
- sharp antennae, can easily spot fakes/wannabes
- remember: not in it for the money, so motives are "pure & noble" / untainted by commerce
(even if we'd all jump at chance of book deal/offer of newspaper column...!)

blogs as fair online representations of personality...?
but... you tease, you don't give it all away, people never quite feel they know you?

TD thrives on unpredictable/erratic/rough around the edges/what's coming next?
no need for "brand consistency"
- ok to experiment/fail - failure can still be interesting

therefore FREEDOM to write what you want - no commercial pressure

"Edited" vs. "Unedited"

No editors in blogging
A freedom, but a mixed blessing?

- TD tends towards verbosity - but my favourite stuff often in the cracks/digressions/parentheses
- Written style which tends to the over-stuffed, chaotic, sentences running away with themselves/being reined back in the nick of time

Blogging as presenting UNEDITED version of self
- spend a lot of time in real life holding back
- at work, in social situations with people who don't share my interests/pre-occupations/world-view
- blog is where I can say what I want, without being interrupted
- eg. musical interests / interests not shared with partner

Thus blog audience is self-selecting
- virtual social life?
- differences between real/virtual friends
- can be loyal, can be fickle, come and go
- cocktail party analogy: mingling, forming/dissolving groups/cliques
- "darling it's been wonderful talking to you, but there are some interesting people over there whom I simply MUST meet!"
- good strategy for absorbing rejection!

We THINK we know each other, but do we really?
- building a strictly controlled (idealised?) image of self - witty / urbane / fascinating etc
- Walter Mitty syndrome? (bored office worker vs personality blogger)

Thus is it fairer to say we're presenting EDITED versions of self?

Conclusion.

Blogging as obsession
- constant voice in head / inner tabloid journalist on own life
- "ooh, can I blog this?"
- friends: "Mike, you've got to blog this" / "Mike, please don't blog this!"

But if you can harness obsession, rewards can be great

Blogging has made me - 43 yr old office worker - successful on my own terms for first time ever
- reconnection with ability which lay dormant for years
- re-configuration of sense of identity
- has given much needed confidence

So... having started at random four years ago... I've ended up standing here this morning... slightly mystified... but hugely grateful.

Footnotes:

1. To read some more points of view regarding "finding your voice" as a blogger, take a look at the comments box at the end of Wednesday's post.

2. During the Q&A session, I was asked to recommend some other blogs. These were: little.red.boat - JonnyB's Private Secret Diary - Guyana Gyal - Naked Blog.

3. Towards the end of the afternoon session, I mentioned an recent instance where corporate creative writing had spun out of control: the Barry Scott/Cillit Bang incident. You can read more about this incident here, with a follow-up here.

4. Further reading (didn't mention this on the day, but it's really excellent, and relevant to the whole day) - gapingvoid: how to be creative.

5. Here's a guide to the most linked UK weblogs (from within the blogging community) in May 2005.

Update: 6. Here's a write-up of the whole day, written by Jess (who I met at lunchtime).

"I could have danced all night, I could have danced all night, and still have begged for more. I could have spread my wings, and done a thousand things I'd never done before..."

Oh, my darlings. I simply had the most wonderful day!

It was, I have to say, a huge relief to be billed as the warm-up guy. Plenty of time to be forgotten about later on, if I turned out to be crap. No time to sit around stressing myself out, unable to concentrate on the rest of the proceedings. No chance of being unduly influenced in style or tone by my fellow speakers. (I am, as I've said before, highly prone to Zelig-style tendencies.) Instead, I just had to get up there and bloody well Do It.

I'm not an experienced public speaker. Indeed, the last time that I addressed an audience was over six years ago - and that was at a funeral, so it wasn't what you might call a usefully analagous experience. But the thing is: once I get over the hump and make the commitment, public speaking is something which, given more regular practice, I could probably do quite well. Deep down inside, I've always known this. It was good to be reminded.

As K advised me the previous evening - just in the nick of time, as I was seriously sweating by then - I didn't make the mistake of over-preparing, and instead managed to strike the right balance between comfortable familiarity with subject matter and overall structure, and the flexibility and space in which to extemporise and elaborate, wherever the fancy took me. All of which meant that - joy of joys! - people actually laughed at my quips and bons mots, which hadn't been laboured to death in advance. (Because I did feel that laughter was probably the best way to kick-start the whole event.) Why, I even had my hands in my pockets at one stage. There's casual!

OK, so I did grind to a shuddering halt on one occasion, about two thirds of the way through. But people don't pick up on that sort of thing nearly as much as you think they're going to, as I learnt from doing that short series of podcasts over the summer.

As I spoke, the front page of Troubled Diva shone proudly behind me, on a giant screen (this being one of the benefits of holding the conference in a cinema), to a degree of magnification so great that even people on the back row could read the opening paragraphs of Wednesday's craftily constructed post, complete with its Yo Broadway! shout-out. All I had to do in addition was to hit the F11 key, for Full Screen mode - thus bringing the all-important Troubled Diva coffee mug into view, at the foot of the screen. Other speakers may have had books to plug; all I had was my merchandising tat, so plug it I was bloody well going to do.

(Before commencing my speech, I did suggest that if people got bored, then they could always read the blog, and stick their hands up when they were ready for me to Page Down. Maybe there was a sea of hands, and I didn't spot it. I don't like to look at audiences too closely, in case I make eye contact and weird out.)

Honestly, it felt so good. Not only that: it felt so right, so natural, so Me. (The last time I felt like this was while I was writing the Eurovision preview piece for Time Out magazine.) I'm an IT consultant, working on "legacy" software for a car manufacturer; I don't get the chance to hang out with other writers. And from what I later gathered, many of the self-employed freelance writers attending the conference don't get much of a chance to hang around with each other, either.

Maybe that's partly what accounted for the disarmingly lovely atmosphere, which pervaded right throughout the day. My worst fears were availed: instead of being confronted by an intimidating crush of brittle, pushy schmoozers - all networking furiously, whilst glancing over each others' shoulders in case someone more important passed by - I encountered nothing but openness, friendliness, supportiveness and encouragement. Who knew?

Many thanks to Jeanie Finlay for recommending me as a speaker, and to Gareth Howell (Digital Arts Forum) and Ben Afia (26) for inviting me, and for organising such a splendid and rewarding event. It was also great to see Richard J. again (we've been out of touch for way too long), and finally to meet Clare, who has been reading this blog almost since its inception.

Oh shit, I really did promise to post my lecture notes, didn't I? WHY DO I SAY THESE THINGS? Sheesh. Well, soon come. Ish.

I shall now go and have a nice sit down, while I attempt to get over myself.

Tell you what: let's jump in at the end, and work backwards.

During the main afternoon session, we were asked to undertake various "automatic writing" exercises:As someone who struggles with Bloggers' Block on an all too regular basis, this was a hugely enjoyable, liberating and confidence-boosting way of spending a couple of hours, and there was enormous fun to be had in sharing our efforts with each other.

A couple of examples for you. Following a complex process of word selection which I won't bother you with, we were tasked with writing a short piece about our four chosen words - mine being Elizabeth, Edinburgh, euphoria, and elbow-pads. However, there was an added, devilish twist: every word in the piece had to begin with the same initial letter as the words selected. And we only had two minutes.

Following a sudden, glorious flash of revelation, this is what I came up with.Next, we were charged with composing a short story, containing exactly twenty six words. The twist? Each word had to begin with each consecutive letter of the alphabet, starting with A and ending with Z. Again, just two minutes. (Or maybe it was three.)

This was my favourite exercise. As my effort works best when read out loud, I've recorded the results onto a short MP3, which you can listen to here. Alternatively, you can read the story in the comments box.

Finally, we were divided into pairs and asked to collaborate on another short story, by passing a notepad back and forth between us... but one word at a time, with no conferring. Our workshop leader warned us that this might be a frustrating exercise, with each partner trying to pull the story in different directions. Happily, our team's experience was quite the opposite. Despite never having met each other before, and despite not discussing what we were going to write in advance, we found ourselves constructing a miniature political satire, with a level of synchronicity that bordered on the spooky. (Mind you, there were a lot of Meaningful Looks.) Here's what we came up with. (I provided the first word; my partner's words are in italics.)If you attended the conference yesterday, then a) hello and welcome to Troubled Diva, and b) if you fancy sharing the fruits of yesterday afternoon's labours with my lovely and supportive "community" of readers, then please leave them in the comments box below.

I'll tell you how my talk went a bit later.

Oh God.

Oh God oh God oh God.

It's tomorrow.

My therapist and I have decided that I should commit to performing at least one activity each week that will take me outside my comfort zone. For instance, I made myself change a ceiling lightbulb yesterday evening, even though I had to place both my feet on the very top step of the stepladder, with no additional means of support.

Despite being so scared that I felt physically sick, I managed to do this. And it felt good.

But look, isn't that enough to fulfil my weekly quota? I changed a lightbulb, for crying out loud! So do I really have to speak for fifteen minutes (plus another five for questions) tomorrow morning, in front of an audience who have paid good money to hear me wittering on about Troubled Blithering Diva?

After all, I don't want to run before I can walk. Small steps. And any other Putting One Foot In Front Of Another metaphor that may or may not be appropriate.

Oh, do drop the faux drama queen act, Mike. You know perfectly well that it will all be fine.

Because - and here's the thing - given the choice between climbing to the top of a ladder, and giving a talk in front of a bunch of strangers, I'd rather give the talk, every time.

Tell you what, readers. Shall we put that Iterative And Interactive Grassroots Online Community Building Paradigm Wotsit into practice, right here, right now? (Hmm, needs a bit of work. I'll get it tickled up before tomorrow.)

Take a look at this, from the publicity material for the conference:The key element here - and possibly the unifying theme for the whole day, from what I can gather - is that phrase "finding a voice".

So, tell me.

• Has blogging helped you to "find a voice"? And if so, then what sort of voice have you ended up with?
• How did the process take place? Was it a natural process, or did it involve trial and error?
• Would it have been a different sort of voice if you weren't writing on a blog?
• If you do write elsewhere than on a blog, then do you slip into other tones of voice which suit the medium in question?
• Or is the whole idea of adopting a "tone of voice" mere poncey bullshit, because you write straight from the heart (man)?
• Or is your writing voice is basically the same as your conversational voice, because you don't believe in masks (man)?
• Do you deliberately adopt tones of voice that you know will play well with your readership?
• Or do you just (deep breath) do it for yourself, and if anyone else happens to like it then that's a bonus?

Tell me, do. And if I run out of things to say and need to pad my speech out a bit your contribution is sufficiently interesting and worthwhile, then I might quote you tomorrow morning. (Yeah, I know. Lazy bugger.)

On Friday, I'll be posting a transcript of my notes for the speech, primarily for the benefit of the course attendees. Well, it has to be better than sending them all to sleep with Powerpoint slides. (Is it just me, or does the very sight of a Powerpoint slide send anyone else off into an automatic catatonic trance?)

Wish me luck. Although, to be honest, I'd rather you answered some of my questions.

As long-standing readers will know, I haven't altered the basic visual design of this site since Spring 2002 - when I abandoned the last vestiges of the original Blogger template, in favour of the symphony in mauve which has come to define my brand.

To be honest, I might never re-design Troubled Diva. There's something about it which works for me - and I still find it visually satisfying, even after all this time. It's a "busy" look - and as such, somewhat out of fashion - but then I like busy-looking blogs, stuffed full to bursting with a myriad of clicking opportunities. They make you feel like you've landed in the middle of a swarm of activity, or something. Also, I like to have as much content as possible accessible by a single click, with a minimum of sub-pages.

Besides, design really isn't my strong point. Having devised something which works, I have become almost superstitious about tampering with it, lest I break the spell and dissipate the esssence.

Having said all that, I love it when other bloggers - equipped with the requisite skills and enthusiasm - re-design their sites in fresh new ways, whilst still managing to retain whatever it is which constitutes their core identities.

Bugger, I'm over-selling again.

Anyway, two of my regular reads - Gordon McLean and Pixeldiva - unveiled their new looks today, and I'm mightily taken by both of them. I especially like the way that Pixeldiva has chosen to blend her words and pictures, and the way she has chosen to display her comments.

(Besides, if I redesigned Troubled Diva then all the merchandising would become instantly redundant, and we could never allow that.)

In lieu of the annual "Troubled Diva has been going for x years today" post (four years yesterday, as it happens), I thought I'd commemorate the happy occasion by, um, shamelessly ripping off another idea from someone's else's blog.

This time, I'm going to revive the much missed "Post Of The Month" feature, which used to run on Uborka (now sadly in stasis). Except that, in what may prove to be an act of reckless over-optimism, I'm going to re-title it Post Of The Week.

Here's how it's going to work.

1. If you come across a great post which you'd like to big up to the Troubled Diva massive, then please supply details in the comments box below. The deadline for submission will be Saturday morning.

2. You can nominate any post from any weblog, providing that it's recent, ie. no more than a couple of weeks old. (There's no restriction on subject matter, so if you really think that a 5000 word deconstruction of the "Scooter" Libby scandal will interest the readers of TD, then be my guest).

3. Please feel free to nominate more than one post during the course of the week. (But don't be greedy.)

4. You are not permitted to nominate one of your own posts.

5. Voting will take place over the weekend, and the winner will be announced on Sunday.

6. The winning post will be linked at the top of this page (and at the top of all the archive pages) for the following seven days.

7. Once the week's winner is announced, nominations will start all over again in a brand new comments box.

8. Voting will take place in a secret sealed chamber, using a judging panel of myself and two guests. The guests will change every week.

9. If you'd like to be a guest judge, then drop me an e-mail at mikejla @ btinternet dot com. Your duties will involve a) reading all the nominated posts and b) e-mailing me with your choices some time on Saturday or Sunday.

This might all flop horribly. On the other hand, it might be an entertaining and worthwhile exercise in "online community building", or some such pompous piffle. Up to you!

I'll be listing the nominated posts as we get them, along with short excerpts from each, in a series of little boxes... like so.OK, your turn. Share the love! And don't be backwards in coming forwards!

Update: This week's guest judges are asta and Karen. Next week's judges have also been appointed.

For those of you who follow Gary Trudeau's Doonesbury (in The Guardian and elsewhere), here are the six strips which were scheduled to run this week, but which have been rendered redundant by the resignation of the controversial US Supreme Court nominee Harriet Miers.

(But really, you'd think she might have had the good grace to hang on for another week, just to give the satirists a fighting chance. The arrogance of the Bush administration truly knows no bounds.)