I now have reviewed more than a half-dozen blogs by people asking for feedback. I've also looked at even more that I decided, for various reasons, not to review.
Some patterns have emerged that I think are worth sharing. Feel free to disagree or state a contrary opinion.
I've seen people asking for a review when their site is still in the embryonic stage. I don't think that's a very considerate request.
If you use a default image as your header, for example, how can someone get a feel for what your site is about or what direction you're headed in? Same for default or dummy text in one of your navigational pages, like Contact or About. What are we to make of that? How can we advise you, other than suggesting to fill it in, if we have no idea what, if anything, you intend to say?
A major, somewhat related problem that I see everywhere, not just on blogs put up for review on AW, is a blog with neither a discernible purpose nor objective. The posts are just a hodge-podge of random, disjointed thoughts. Unless you're either famous or fall-down-funny, I don't really care what you think about anything. Why would I? And why would I return for more of the same?
In the same vein, I see many, many posts that are hardly more than a paragraph long. If you don't have a thought or a message that bears developing and tries to engage me as a reader, why should I look at it?
This is a matter of personal preference, and the practice is so widespread as to be the accepted standard. But I honestly don't like a barrage of posts, like 20, 30 or more. I find that overwhelming. I feel like I'm being blitzed. Am I expected to keep reading and reading and reading and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling? Well, I don't want to. I want to read two or three posts, see what you have to say, and explore the rest of the site. If I'm interested in more, I can go to the right-hand sidebar (or left-hand) and look at the titles of recent posts.
Throwing so many posts into the mix is information overload. It blurs whatever you might want to emphasize. Because a post jumps to the top of the page as the most recent one, does that make it the most important? It becomes that by default because it's the first thing a visitor will see.
Another frequent fault I see is the information -- or more precisely, the lack of it -- on the about or bio page. I think some people want to keep their privacy. If that's so, why are they blogging?
If you know that J.K. Rowling had a menial job and barely eked out a living while trying to support a daughter before hitting it big, that humanizes her. The fact that her mother died before the first Harry Potter book saw the light of day further humanizes her. That connects us to her.
If you tell me that you love to hike in the woods and attend arts and crafts festivals, how does that connect me to you? I want kind of a synopsized resume, the same thing you might find on the back cover of a book beside the author's picture. You don't have to tell me exactly how old you are, but you ought to give me an idea. Are you a high school student, a stay-at-home mom with two kids to tend to, a retired widower in a wheelchair? I don't want to know those things so I can judge you. I want to know them so I can see you and relate to you. That will also give me a good idea of how much time you have to write and of the obstacles you might face to do it.
A related issue is a photo. I've seen site after site with no photo or an avatar or a disguised image. Get over it. Nobody's expecting you to look like a runway model, but we want an image in our head of who's writing these words. Again, I cite the back cover of a book or the back flap. You generally find a photo of the author. The photo humanizes you and enables us to connect to you.
I also see site after site that omits any contact information. I'm invited to subscribe to your site -- I don't want to. Or to follow you on Facebook -- I don't want to. Or to follow you on Twitter -- I don't want to. I just want to ask you a question. Or tell you something. Or share something. Again, unless you're famous and get inundated with thousands of e-mails every day, I ought to be able to do that. (Once you get famous, you can change your e-mail.)
Then there's the issue of the comment form. If you want readers to leave comments -- which is one of the main reasons for many of us even starting a blog -- you ought to make it as easy and as painless as possible.
I'm still wrestling with this one myself, but one of the hurdles is the thousands of spammers who will misuse the comment form. Even so, I find the captcha tool extremely irritating, some forms of it more so than others. I just came across a site that had two blocks, one with a number, the other with letters. But the number block was set against a background so dark that the number faded into oblivion. I had to keep clicking and clicking until I finally got one I could read. A major pain.
I also just came across the worst comment form I've ever seen. It restricted you to about 20 words. Think about that. A 20-word restriction ON A WRITER! That's ridiculous. What's the harm in having no limit? If I see an Amazon review where the writer is in love with himself, I just scroll past it and go on to the next one. No big deal.
This same site also substituted the optional website information with a required field making you list someone else's e-mail address. I find that unconscionable. If I don't have someone else's permission -- and indeed would not even want to ask for it -- to disclose their e-mail, why should I be forced to do so? I think it would be better to state: "Whatever you do, DO NOT LEAVE A COMMENT! I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU."
One last thing. This may or may not be valid. But I've seen people say they're now on their fourth or fifth blog. They started other ones and gave up when they got no traffic.
That puzzles me. If you didn't intend to follow through, why did you start a blog? On a whim? A lark? A bet? Here's the part that might not be valid. It seems possible that those little search bots scouring the billions of sites out there could well come across your abandoned site before they discover my very active one. So you could be driving me even further down the Google rankings. (The search bots probably look for recent activity, so perhaps my theory is hogwash.)
The whole idea of blogging is such a grand and glorious idea. Especially for writers. It allows us to practice our craft, to connect with readers, and to share in a mutual exchange of information and ideas.
What writer couldn't truly love it and embrace it?
Some patterns have emerged that I think are worth sharing. Feel free to disagree or state a contrary opinion.
I've seen people asking for a review when their site is still in the embryonic stage. I don't think that's a very considerate request.
If you use a default image as your header, for example, how can someone get a feel for what your site is about or what direction you're headed in? Same for default or dummy text in one of your navigational pages, like Contact or About. What are we to make of that? How can we advise you, other than suggesting to fill it in, if we have no idea what, if anything, you intend to say?
A major, somewhat related problem that I see everywhere, not just on blogs put up for review on AW, is a blog with neither a discernible purpose nor objective. The posts are just a hodge-podge of random, disjointed thoughts. Unless you're either famous or fall-down-funny, I don't really care what you think about anything. Why would I? And why would I return for more of the same?
In the same vein, I see many, many posts that are hardly more than a paragraph long. If you don't have a thought or a message that bears developing and tries to engage me as a reader, why should I look at it?
This is a matter of personal preference, and the practice is so widespread as to be the accepted standard. But I honestly don't like a barrage of posts, like 20, 30 or more. I find that overwhelming. I feel like I'm being blitzed. Am I expected to keep reading and reading and reading and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling? Well, I don't want to. I want to read two or three posts, see what you have to say, and explore the rest of the site. If I'm interested in more, I can go to the right-hand sidebar (or left-hand) and look at the titles of recent posts.
Throwing so many posts into the mix is information overload. It blurs whatever you might want to emphasize. Because a post jumps to the top of the page as the most recent one, does that make it the most important? It becomes that by default because it's the first thing a visitor will see.
Another frequent fault I see is the information -- or more precisely, the lack of it -- on the about or bio page. I think some people want to keep their privacy. If that's so, why are they blogging?
If you know that J.K. Rowling had a menial job and barely eked out a living while trying to support a daughter before hitting it big, that humanizes her. The fact that her mother died before the first Harry Potter book saw the light of day further humanizes her. That connects us to her.
If you tell me that you love to hike in the woods and attend arts and crafts festivals, how does that connect me to you? I want kind of a synopsized resume, the same thing you might find on the back cover of a book beside the author's picture. You don't have to tell me exactly how old you are, but you ought to give me an idea. Are you a high school student, a stay-at-home mom with two kids to tend to, a retired widower in a wheelchair? I don't want to know those things so I can judge you. I want to know them so I can see you and relate to you. That will also give me a good idea of how much time you have to write and of the obstacles you might face to do it.
A related issue is a photo. I've seen site after site with no photo or an avatar or a disguised image. Get over it. Nobody's expecting you to look like a runway model, but we want an image in our head of who's writing these words. Again, I cite the back cover of a book or the back flap. You generally find a photo of the author. The photo humanizes you and enables us to connect to you.
I also see site after site that omits any contact information. I'm invited to subscribe to your site -- I don't want to. Or to follow you on Facebook -- I don't want to. Or to follow you on Twitter -- I don't want to. I just want to ask you a question. Or tell you something. Or share something. Again, unless you're famous and get inundated with thousands of e-mails every day, I ought to be able to do that. (Once you get famous, you can change your e-mail.)
Then there's the issue of the comment form. If you want readers to leave comments -- which is one of the main reasons for many of us even starting a blog -- you ought to make it as easy and as painless as possible.
I'm still wrestling with this one myself, but one of the hurdles is the thousands of spammers who will misuse the comment form. Even so, I find the captcha tool extremely irritating, some forms of it more so than others. I just came across a site that had two blocks, one with a number, the other with letters. But the number block was set against a background so dark that the number faded into oblivion. I had to keep clicking and clicking until I finally got one I could read. A major pain.
I also just came across the worst comment form I've ever seen. It restricted you to about 20 words. Think about that. A 20-word restriction ON A WRITER! That's ridiculous. What's the harm in having no limit? If I see an Amazon review where the writer is in love with himself, I just scroll past it and go on to the next one. No big deal.
This same site also substituted the optional website information with a required field making you list someone else's e-mail address. I find that unconscionable. If I don't have someone else's permission -- and indeed would not even want to ask for it -- to disclose their e-mail, why should I be forced to do so? I think it would be better to state: "Whatever you do, DO NOT LEAVE A COMMENT! I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU."
One last thing. This may or may not be valid. But I've seen people say they're now on their fourth or fifth blog. They started other ones and gave up when they got no traffic.
That puzzles me. If you didn't intend to follow through, why did you start a blog? On a whim? A lark? A bet? Here's the part that might not be valid. It seems possible that those little search bots scouring the billions of sites out there could well come across your abandoned site before they discover my very active one. So you could be driving me even further down the Google rankings. (The search bots probably look for recent activity, so perhaps my theory is hogwash.)
The whole idea of blogging is such a grand and glorious idea. Especially for writers. It allows us to practice our craft, to connect with readers, and to share in a mutual exchange of information and ideas.
What writer couldn't truly love it and embrace it?