Among the many things I’ve learned from twitter, almost everyone there is far, far more important than me. I read the bios of some of the people who follow me, and learn they are all bloggers, aspirational speakers, available for concerts and, in a surprisingly high number, rock stars.
I know! Rock stars are following me! No, I have no clue why either. I’m just a lawyer.
In the email the other day, I received a guest-posting pitch, which I would normally delete like the other dozen I get every day. For no particular reason, I took a look, and boy was I glad I did. This wasn’t from the usual desperate writer or gal from Bangalore trying to eek out a buck.
Just a quicky. Your blog http://blog.simplejustice.us excites me! it’s a great looking and well kept blog. Unusual these days!
Anyway, I’m part of a team of rockstar bloggers and I blog for lots of brands. We are always on the lookout for good site to guest post and yours fits the bill!
If you are looking for awesome content to excite your readers then we can certainly provide that. We are willing to pay you a $20 contribution fee for every blog of ours you publish on your site which should help towards the cost of running your site.
What do you think? We’d love to write regularly.
First, I have to point out that it’s been a long time since a woman I don’t know has informed me that something I do “excites her” and she wants a “quicky.” At my age, that doesn’t happen often, so I am damn glad I opened Emily’s email. Sure, she goes on to say that my blog is “great looking,” which kinda takes the wind out of her words. Among all the blogs in all the world, this may be the singular ugliest. I know it. I’ve actually gone out of my way to keep it ugly. Anyone who knows me knows this is true.
But despite her bad judgment as to what makes a “great looking” blog, Emily explains that she’s part of a team of “rockstar bloggers.” I didn’t even know there was such a thing! I mean, I’m told that there are individual rock star bloggers, usually by the bloggers themselves who are the first to call themselves rock stars, regardless of whether anyone else says so or not. But a team? Like the Giants or the Yankees?
As if this fantasy offer couldn’t get any better, Emily is willing to pay me, ME!, to let her have her way with me. Sure, it’s only $20, but it’s $20 coming in rather than going out. I could buy lunch with it, or just put it in a frame on my wall with some sort of notation that this was a twenty from a Rock-friggin’-Star. How cool would that be?
But what really got to me, like an arrow straight to the heart, was her close. It bears repeating:
Super. Blogger. Super Blogger. Now, much as I say that this blawg exists solely for my own amusement, what sort of person would I be if I didn’t want to bask in the reflected glory of a Super Blogger? So what if I disdain the huge honors of Super Lawyerhood. After all, that’s just one of the never-ending legion of phony awards offered lawyers to put on their walls for clients foolish enough to believe that it makes one a better lawyer.
But Super Blogger is entirely different. There is no plaque. There is no badge. There is no glossy four-color magazine in which you’re expected to buy an full color advertisement as a sign of your appreciation of the great respect you’ve “earned,” as well as the publisher’s need to make a car payment. No, Emily just lays it out there, for all to see, without any needless bells or whistles: Super Blogger.
I’m not a Super Blogger. Indeed, as I come to realize when some non-lawyer writes a piece for one of the major online media outlets, the perspective, education, experience and knowledge gained by decades in the trenches isn’t even worth a throw-away link or a three word quote. They explain the law, they explain the world, they explain it all, and do so without anything remotely resembling what a lawyer like me would describe as accuracy. And nobody gives a damn.
You see they get clicks. They write clickbait, and listicles, and pander to the emotional needs of their target audience, sucking them in with visceral appeals that evoke “oh, yes,” and “yes, oh my god, yes.” Me? I’m more along the lines of “you’re so mean,” and “what an asshole.”
Sure, I had an image of Emily, dressed in the most luxurious bathrobe ever, hunched over a keyboard with her own server to the side, giving me that “active verb” look. Oh, it was enticing for sure.
But then I realized, I am unworthy. I’m no Super Blogger, and to lead Emily down a path that leads nowhere would be wrong. Go Emily. Go find a blogger worthy of a rock star. You can’t squander your talents on an old man like me. But I will remember you, Emily. And I thank you for bringing an old man a moment of fantasy that I might be worthy of a Super Blogger like you.