If a Tree Falls in the Forest of Blogs, Does Anybody Care?

A lot is expected of the modern author.

It’s not enough to just write a book anymore. Not enough, even, to visit bookstores and make nice with the people who buy books and the people who sell them.

It is insufficient to develop a personal mailing list--and/or e-mail list--in order to send postcards or bookmarks or (in the case of e-mail) carefully crafted spam.

And having a Web site? That’s so basic, it should get listed with paper, pens, and steno pads. We’re way beyond that into social networking-- a la MySpace and FaceBook and Second Life.

The thing, though, that continues to be a debatable point in terms of an author supporting a book is blogging, in general, and guest-blogging in particular. That is to say, does blogging matter? Blogging can be fun. It can be cathartic. It can even be entertaining for both bloggers and bloggees. But is it valuable to the author? Does it help said author flog books? The jury is out. Is, in fact, likely to stay there. And, trust me: nothing I say here is likely to help.

Unlike, say, a book-signing, where you can see the results with your own eyes (if 56 people show up and buy 76 copies of the book, no one needs to tell you the evening was a big success), blogging is impossible to quantify. In the case of guest-blogging, we don’t even know how big the potential audience might be. (Is it 7,000? Or 70? Or three?) And even if your guesting takes place on a site usually popular with readers, do you have a message that will reach that particular audience? Are you going to say anything that will make them care?

More: a lot of the things authors are expected to do in order to support their books don’t demand much of them intellectually. At least, that’s been my experience. It’s fun to do bookstore visits. Sure: traveling can take it out of you, but to stand there while people ask you questions about a topic you know well--your book--is not really very hard.

To be effective as a blogger, however, you have to reach inside yourself. At least, that’s what I think. You have to go deep and scratch at things people care about. Those things are more difficult to write about than housing starts and the price of gas. They have a cost. It’s not one everyone is willing to pay.

And there’s a risk too, right? There’s a risk that if you dig too deep and look too far and share too much, there won’t be anything left. Because nothing--and I mean nothing--takes it out of you the way writing a novel does. It takes everything you’ve got. How can you write a book and still have enough juice left to blog?

I’m writing this just as my fourth novel is about to be published. The official publication date is January 8. At this stage in my career, I’m about as blogged up as a girl can be and still find head space to write anything at all. I contribute here at The Rap Sheet, as you know. And I edit January Magazine. But neither of those things demands a lot from my secret stash, most of the time. I’m a journalist, so I can write news items all day without breaking a sweat. You learn early on how to look at a story, pick up the salient bits, then string them together in a way that will help other people understand.

I have a personal blog, too. Though I sometimes go deep there, most of the time I do not. Because I’m working on a book almost all the time, my personal blog has come to be a repository for all the silliness I see in the world that I just want to share with whoever cares to listen. Or interesting tidbits I come across while doing research. Or silly or critical things that happen in my everyday life. As I’ve said there on more than one occasion: “This is my blog, so I get to say whatever I want.” As any marketing expert worth her salt will tell you, that is not the way to build a blog’s readership. For that, you pick a topic and then stick to it: you don’t deviate from the central plan. I’m not so good at that when it comes to my blog.

Now, with this new book out, another blogging possibility has presented itself. Something new to me, but possibly not to you: the guest blog. That’s where you gather all your thoughts and wisdom and take it on the road. The idea, I guess, is that by occupying a guest spot, you expose yourself to new readers. Readers who, presumably, will flock to buy your books when they get up close and personal with the contents of your skull. The pressure to be scintillating is extreme.

Beginning today, for instance, I’m guest blogging for a whole week--Christmas week, no less--at the newish St. Martin’s Minotaur blog, Moments in Crime. It’s a gig that would seem to demand deepish thought, but since it’s also Christmas week, I’m not quite sure what I’ll end up with. I’ll possibly have to talk about stuffing a turkey and accommodating the vegan guests expected at my table this year, because those are the things concerning me right now.

Oh dear. What have I done here? I intended this to be an interesting and perhaps informative post on the state of blogging as it is now. But it isn’t, is it? I mean, I could write that piece, but this isn’t it. Maybe I’ll write that piece next week. Maybe even next year. That too is in the nature of blogging, I think. Everything is important. Everything is now. But will anyone care? You tell me.