The last video chat was so out of control that I actually got reprimanded from just about everyone in the company. Except Andrew Shell, who said it was funny and funny is all people care about.

So I have a choice of doing a private chat for Andrew, or I can switch up the format to be less obnoxious. And, as I am trying to be more likable, being less obnoxious will be good for me. So this week I'm doing the video chat alone. And for those of you who are disappointed that Ryan Paugh won't be there, take solace in this: The headset for doing the video alone is much better with my hair than the headset for doing a video with Ryan.

Sign up here to join the video chat on Friday.

Comment on: Live video chat: How to find the hidden job market

• Why you should not try to make money from your blog
• Why you should not start a second blog
• Why you should take care to link to other blogs, a lot

But mostly, I'll answer your questions, which you can ask in real-time.

I'm doing this video stuff with Ryan Paugh. (I am linking to his personal blog to show you that I take my own advice.) Ryan keeps coming to these events a little bit drunk. But that doesn't stop us from getting rave reviews. Here's one he forwarded to me from his mom: "Great job, Ry."

So sign up here. And you will have a great blog. Or you will at least know why you don't.

Comment on: Live video chat: Blogging Bootcamp, Tuesday March 2

This is my favorite blog post ever by Dave: The Thong is Dead. (Maybe not safe for work.) He does so many great things in that post. He has genuine social commentary about who decides what is fashionable underwear. He shows us a glimpse into his personal life because he has an underwear discussion with his wife. And he provides a great photo of a girls’s ass, in boyshorts. All this in 500 words.

For me to get all of that into one post would take about 1000 words. Seth Godin writes posts like that—dependably dense: really short but packed with value—but never as scintillatingly smutty as Dave. Where Seth makes a living as a high-paid speaker by republishing a compendium of blog posts every two years, Dave can make a living as the intelligentsia by repackaging other peoples’ soft porn.

Do you know the Approval Matrix in New York magazine? No? You have to look at it. New York magazine has perfected a way to showcase the thrill that is behind the brilliance of low-brow culture. Recent example:

Highbrow and despicable: Franco Zefferellis says the soprano in his opera is too fat.

Highbrow and brilliant: When the production goes to Rome, she quits.

Brilliant and highbrow: The book titled Benefits of Looking Up, which is a series of photographs of balloons that got stuck in trees.

Brilliant and lowbrow: An online video of some guys jumping off Burj Khalifa, the world’s tallest building.

I am obsessed with the meshing of lowbrow and highbrow. I’m convinced that if you understand high brow well, then you are also a great judge of low brow, and you can get even more pleasure out of that.

This reminds me of when I used to hang out with a woman who was a Ralph Lauren model. Neither of us had very much money because I was playing professional beach volleyball which meant I was living off sponsors (I spent my days in a bagel shop that sponsored me with free  food), and she used to be a Ralph Lauren model, but she cut off her hair because she thought she might be gay and she was living off residuals (checks that comes in when ads run months or years later).

So we’d hang out in my bagel shop, usually with way too much food on our plates because I was bulimic and she was a hoarder, and the food was free. My friend’s clothes were always a little raggedy because she decided it was cheaper to get ten-cent shirts from the thrift shop than to pay to clean clothes at the laundromat. And I always had a little too much sand in my hair, and it fell onto the table, and since the only new clothes I had were from sponsors, I always looked like I was at the beach even when I was at the bagel shop.

We always sat in a corner because it was too much trouble to try to pass for regular. But still guys would come up to us and they would look at her and feel like they just discovered America. They were Christopher Columbus and she was the untouched new nation (and I was a native they might have to kill.) The guys loved thinking they discovered a street person who looks like a model. They thought they had an eye for lowbrow.

They were morons, of course, because every guy in the whole world was attracted to my friend, and every guy thought he was the only one. “Here’s my card. I could do so much for you,” guys would tell her. As if she wasn’t already under contract with a modeling agency, violating it with short hair.

My point here: there is a little-acknowledged thrill in uncovering low brow while seeing the high brow in it.  It’s why I love Barstool Sports. It’s also why I know that every job is creative. There are ideas that people dismiss as not right. Not intellectual enough. Not how we think. But there are gems. The creativity, in any job, is finding the gems among the discards. It’s thrilling to do. Even if you’re wrong sometimes. And the rewards are huge. After all, Barstool Sports is making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year.

Comment on: How to be more creative at work

I say no.

I say no because I have no idea how to do a book about my life. I’m sure I have no idea because I already have had a six-figure book deal to write about my life that I’m not delivering on, and the editor has dumped me. (Read: Phone calls to collect on the large advance I’ve already spent.) So my qualifications to tell you advice about how to write about one's life are questionable. But whatever; I have never stood on ceremony over qualifications.

Maybe the problem is that my life story needs a redemptive moment. This is what my agent-who-is-no-longer-my-agent tells me.  And this is a warning to any agent who thinks they might want to be my agent: My past agent dumped me because (even though I did deliver on my first book deal) I am terrible at writing book proposals and I am terrible at following publishing industry rules. And her number one rule is that if you write about your life there must be a redemptive moment because people like that. “That’s what sells,” is my not-my-agent’s way of saying “That’s what people like to read.”

So, okay. I try to see that. I mean, I’ve read plenty of memoirs – Girl, Interrupted, Smashed, Darkness Visible—all good books. All very redemptive at the end, for sure. But I’ve also read Anna Karenina. Well, I haven’t, but I’m able to spoil the ending for you right now anyway (skip to the next paragraph if you don’t want the spoiler). She gets hit by a train. I think she kills herself.

That seems redemptive to me. I mean, at least she doesn’t have to wake up to her same problems every day.

I have told this to my not-agent. She said that people do not want to read about my fascination with suicide. It’s true. I am fascinated by suicide: Why don’t more people kill themselves? Life is very hard. And there is no sane reason to believe it will, at some point, get easier. So why do we keep going? I don’t know. This fascinates me.

(Here is a great book of suicide letters. And here’s a tidbit for all you productivity gurus:  People in their 20’s who kill themselves write suicide notes about how much they love the people who will be most hurt by the suicide: their parents, a boyfriend maybe. People in their 30’s and 40’s write suicide notes that are informational to-do lists: Where the cat food is, when the kid’s homework is due, how to find the keys to the safety deposit box.

Both types of letters are great examples of how people have totally lost perspective when they kill themselves. This baffles me, since I also feel that we have totally lost our perspective by choosing to not kill ourselves.)

Okay. So I told my not-my-agent that my proposal for a memoir is redemptive because the reader will see that I did not kill myself before I got to the date of the national book tour.

That did not work for her.

So I said my book is redemptive because I had an insane childhood and look, now I’m not living on the street.

My agent told me that my life is too precarious for my surviving childhood to be redemptive. She told me I could write about keeping my marriage together even though we both have Aspergers Syndrome, but before I could write the proposal (and convince my ex that this would be okay to write) we divorced.

What about writing about the divorce?

She said divorce is not redemptive. I’m pretty sure that’s when she told me to get a new agent.

Okay. So back to me telling you how to write about yourself. I say, forget about redemption. It’s false. I read The Glass Castle, and I think it’s nice Jeanette Wallis got out of her hell-hole family, but really, I want to know what her fights with her husband are like on her zillion-dollar Hamptons estate.

I think you should write the truth. Be real. If you obsess about redemption instead of the truth, you’ll be like me, writing nothing, because life is not redemptive. Life isn’t like that. Just write your own messy life, and let it spill out.

But, wait. Here’s the problem with that. Your life is boring. I’m sorry to tell you this. But actually all our lives are boring. Which is another strike against obsessing over redemption: it doesn’t make your life interesting, but good writing always makes life interesting.

So you need to tell something true to make people want to read, but you need to be interesting doing it.

Do you want to know what interesting is? How many articles and stories and blog posts have you read about getting fired? Six million, right? Everyone wants to tell their story. Most suck. But here’s a great one: The CEO of Sun wrote a tweet to announce his resignation. It’s interesting because of the media he chose, it’s interesting because of the timing, and it’s interesting because it’s a haiku:

Financial crisis/Stalled too many customers/CEO no more

The bar is high if you want to be interesting. What can you do? Here's what I do:

1. Assume you are not all that interesting. The reader does not want a peek into your life. Not enough people care. Do you know how I know? Because porn is boring. Sure, if you’re using it for masturbation, it’s interesting, because then it’s giving you something. But if not, what are you doing watching? Who cares about someone else’s sex life? And you can be sure that the peek into your life is never going to be as interesting as a porn movie. So forget writing a blog post merely to give someone a peek.

2. Cut fifteen percent of everything you write. Because no one is so interesting that they can’t cut words.

3. Write to give the reader something they want. I try to focus on this with every post I write. But in fact, this is advice about how to do anything in your life: Help people as much as you can. Give people what they need, and if you focus on that, the rest will fall into place. This is true of how to network, how to parent, how to manage people and also how to write about your life.

So really, the world is full of ways to give to each other, and we’re all just looking for the best way. And this, in the end, is probably why we don’t kill ourselves.

Comment on: How to write about your life

The article that I’m attached to is The Making of an Expert by Anders Ericsson, Michael Prietula and Edward Cokely. I would not normally bother to tell you all three authors for one article in my blog. This is not a medical journal. But I love the article so much, that I want you to know all of them.

The article changed how I think about what I am doing here. In my life. I think I am trying to be an expert.

Being an expert is not what you think, probably. For one thing, the article explains that “there is no correlation between IQ and expert performance in fields such as chess, music, sports, and medicine. The only innate differences that turn out to be significant—and they matter primarily in sports – are height and body size. “

So what factor does correlate with success? One thing emerges very clearly is that successful performers “had practiced intensively, had studied with devoted teachers, and had been supported enthusiastically by their families throughout their developing years.”

There are a few things about the article that really make me nervous. The first is that you need to work every single day at being great at that one thing if you want to be great. This is true of pitching, painting, parenting, everything. And if you think management in corporate life is an exception, you’re wrong. I mean, the article is in the Harvard Business Review for a reason.

It used to be, more than 100 years ago, that you could be a prodigy and come out of nowhere and be great. There are stories like that, ones we hang onto when we do things like watch the Olympics and allow ourselves to think, “Maybe I’ll be on the luge team in 2014.”

Today the standard for being an international success at anything is so high that the authors say you need to spend at least ten years working in a very focused, everyday way on the thing you want to be great at. Evidence: high schools swimmers today would beat Olympic records from years ago. (And in fact, the importance of hard work over raw talent is the subject of the most popular Freakonomics column ever in the New York Times.)

This part of the research worries me because there is not a lot I have invested this much time in. Maybe the only thing is writing. I’m not sure.

Well, there are other things, but I’m not sure I could be great. Figure skating is a good example. I figure skated for ten years. I was good, until I went through puberty and then was clearly the wrong body type to be doing double flips. I should have been a basketball player. Maybe.

A lot of being great at something is having the right coaching, and part of the right coaching is someone telling you where you’re not gonna make it and where you are. I’m not sure I have this right now.

But the coaching that successful experts get is special. According to the article, usually someone starts with a local coach, for anything, and then the person moves on to a coach who has achieved huge success himself.  And people who practice very hard every day start to have a sense of who can be a coach who is capable of helping them succeed, and who is a coach they have outgrown.

An example the authors use is Mozart. Yes, he had innate ability, but also, his father was a professional violinist, skilled composer and wrote the first book ever on violin instruction.

I am panicking that maybe I am just figure skating again. Maybe I am doing something I’ll never be great at. I worry about this because I don’t actually know what I’m doing. Am I getting good at bringing a startup from fruition to exit? Am I getting good at writing career advice?

I am thinking, maybe, the thing I’m getting good at is living my life out in the open. But I’m starting to worry that it’s like figure skating. Because I have a natural limit: I don’t want my kids to be psycho from overexposure. The farmer doesn’t like being on my blog, and I am not getting good coaching right now. I mean, I’m not getting any coaching, I don’t think.

This reminds me of the day I realized that my figure skating coach was an alcoholic. My dad picked me up at the rink. He asked why my skate guards were on. I said I never went skating. I said, “I think Ivar is sick.”

My dad said, “Yeah. I’ve been thinking that for a while.”

I said, “I don’t think he really can teach me any more.”

My dad said, “I’ve been thinking that for a while.”

I remember the heartbreak I felt knowing that I didn’t have a teacher. I remember also realizing that it’s important to know who can teach and who can’t. If you are a person who wants to be an expert, the thing you want most is a teacher. I think that’s why I carry the magazine with me everywhere I go. To remind me to look.  Like my life depends on it.

But I've recently started reading research beyond the article, and it turns out that the teacher isn't the important per se, but rather, what you need is immediate, helpful feedback. And this is what you get when you have a blog. So maybe I am still on my path to being an expert, and I'm just crowdsourcing my coaching.

Comment on: Being an expert takes time, not talent

But today I’m trying something new. I’m doing a post that is useless to you. Here are four ideas I was just about to toss out as incurably useless, but instead, I bring them to you:

1. Law firms are making concessions for women.
One of the top law firms in the world, Allen Overy, just announced they are letting people become part-time partners. This would be news if no one had tried it before. But many firms that have already done this in response to the extreme brain drain in the legal profession due to women leaving law firms because they are so inflexible.

So now there is the idea that there can be a part-time partner. Fortunately, like most things in workplace reform, Gen X-ers have already been the guinea pigs. My friends, in fact, have tried this. And it turns out that if you give a lawyer a part-time job, she ends up working 50 hours a week instead of 80, and gets part-time credit, which isn’t exactly encouraging.

2. People live together instead of getting married.
This is not news you can use because you already know it. This is what I said to Hannah Seligson, who asked me to write about her new book, A Little Bit Married: How to Know When it's Time to Walk Down the Aisle or Out the Door.

I like Hannah. She wrote a great piece for the Daily Beast, about the orgasm gap between men and women. I also like Hannah because when I told her that I thought her book was not news, she exhibited a charming relentlessness about publicizing her book, and she told me:

- Co-habitation is a bigger step in the marriage direction for women than men.

- Women are ready to get married before men, even when they're already living together.

This mostly seems like things have not changed. In fact, the most surprising thing about this news is that women are earning more than men, and men have seen a generation of women with fertility nightmares from putting off having children in favor of building their career,  yet still, nothing changes in the marriage equation.

So I don’t know about this book. I’m not sure how useful it is. And I think a book on the orgasm gap would have been more useful, but maybe Hanna's got a few orgasm pages tucked into this book…

3. Texting while driving is bad.
Already 19 states prohibit texting while driving, so that’s gotta make you think twice about doing it in the other 31. Also, it’s clear that even if you’re great with just one-finger on the keyboard, texting while driving is more dangerous than driving drunk.

I would never drive drunk. But I text in car all the time. I tell myself not to, and then I do just one more quick one.

Which is why this falls into the category of news you cannot use: Texting while driving requires the same rules for oneself that driving drunk require. We each self-police, and it’s an issue of self-respect, but also, a social contract with the other people on the road that we will not endanger each other’s lives.

You decide where you are and then no amount of scaring you changes you. So, I read the data, and then I texted that very day. I know I’m a terrible person. But I’m not ready to make the change.

4. Pig sex is on the demise.
The farmer went to grad school for pig genetics, and he has a lot of pigs on his farm. The farmer buys boy pigs to impregnate the girl pigs. But the last batch of boys he bought did not know how to have sex. They would mount the girl pigs, but their penis didn’t go in where it was supposed to. The farmer tells me that so much of pig reproduction is by artificial insemination now that farmers aren’t breeding for pigs who know how to have sex. This is amazing to me. Though I cannot think of how to use the knowledge in any work except farm work.

Okay. So we’re at the end of my post. I thought it would be fun to write about stuff I wish was useful but it is not. I thought it would be fun to break the rule that I have to be useful. But you know what? It wasn’t fun.

My blog is about me doing something nice for you, and then, in turn, you doing something nice for me, by talking about what I want to talk about. But if I am not trying to be useful to you in some way, then I’m not really in a relationship with you. I'm just writing like it's my diary.

There is something really fulfilling about being useful. So here's my tip: You should be useful to readers each time you post. It feels better. For everyone.

Comment on: Workplace news you cannot use

This probably is not surprising to you, because admittedly, it is absurd to be engaged one day and not engaged the next day. But there are exacerbating factors, and basically, the way I got him back was to be more likable.

I have spent most of my career overcoming my lack of social skills by studying research about what makes people likable. And I think the research I’ve applied so systematically in my career is finally helping me in my personal life.

Here’s what we know about being likable:

1. Don’t give ultimatums. It’s disrespectful. Instead, be a negotiator.
The farmer does not want to be in this blog. As you might imagine, we have this discussion a lot.

First it was like this:

Him: I don’t want to be in the blog.

Me: You have to be. I can’t live without writing my life.

Then the conversation was like this:

Him: I don’t want to be in the blog.

Me: How about if you can edit whatever you want?

2. Try to think about situations from the other persons’ perspective.
That worked for a while. But the problem is that I’ve been setting boundaries about what I write about for my whole life. He’s only been doing it for a year. And after the Thanksgiving Day post he felt like he did not do a good job. In hindsight, he thinks he should not have let me write about that.

But here’s the farmer’s dilemma: He is fascinated with the idea of living an honest life.  And he loves watching me do it, but he’s horrified to realize that there are a million versions of every story, and the person with the big blog audience gets extra weight for her story.

3. Don't hide what really motivates you; secretive people are not likable.
So I am back with the farmer, but we have new rules about what I can write. Well, I think we do. We were going to. But then we had to think about the ramifications. If I don’t write about the tension on a farm, then who is writing about that?

Do you read The Pioneer Woman? I love her blog. I love her blog so much that I told my designer he should make me her blog.

He said, "You don’t want her blog. It’s huge. It probably takes five full-time people to run that blog."

I said, "No. I do want her blog."

He said, "I think you want her life."

The Pioneer Woman does have a great life. Every guy in the photos on that blog is on a horse or about to get on a horse, and all the men are hot. Their rear ends poke out of chaps. Everywhere. And their tough, gritty faces suggest they’d ravish me in bed.

Sure I want that blog, and that life.

I also love how that The Pioneer Woman never, never never disrespects her guy. The Marlboro Man. That’s his name. He’s always studly, sexy, kind, fun.

The farmer is that, too, but there are issues. He’s not studly when we’re having a fight. The problem is that I’m drawn to writing about the fights, and the Pioneer Woman is drawn to writing about pies, and feeding the Marlboro Man.

I am a great cook. But this is not the sort of thing that would go over well on this blog. I’m the kind of cook that understands principles of food so I don’t ever use a recipe. But I’m not drawn to tell you how to make pot roast perfectly as a precursor to cowboy sex. I’m more drawn to tell you that I experimented with fruit in stew and accidentally used bad wine, and to fix it I laced it with brown sugar. And it’s not just that the farmer wouldn’t eat it, but neither would the farm cats, who will eat almost anything in winter.

I want to put a recipe of that. The worst stew ever. With grass-finished beef, of course. Because the farmer gets a full cow butchered and then stores it in his freezer. And before he knew me he used to turn everything into microwaved hamburger, but now he brings me gifts of frozen cuts of grass-finished beef that I defrost over days and turn into dinners to wow him.

The secret, really, to amazing cooking with beef is to spend a lot of money on ingredients and then do almost nothing to them. The farmer did not know this until he was with a city girl who will spend $5.00 on a bag of spinach.

4. Try to look at the positive side of things; people like optimists.
I digress. Sort of. Not really, though. Because what I’m telling you is that what would be perfect is if I could be the Pioneer Woman and only tell you good things about me and the farmer.

But what about that she’s living on a family-owned ranch that is a business, and surely, she had to sign a prenup? Surely her in-laws are nuts over the possibility that their son gets run over by a stampede and she inherits his part of the ranch and marries a different guy with a tight ass in flowing chaps and gives her share of the ranch to him?

What about that? Was there discussion?

Is there discussion over that she has so much traffic on her blog that surely she earns more money than the Marlboro Man? This is not easy stuff to deal with. But there is nothing about that.

Unfortunately, for me, the world loves reading the Pioneer Woman. And so do I. She’s upbeat and her site is gorgeous, and no kidding: the minute the farmer broke off my engagement I started thinking there’s gotta be a guy on her ranch who’s right for me.

But I am drawn to write about only the hard things. I don’t need help from a blog community to know that I’m great in the kitchen. I need help from a blog community to figure out my anger management problems . Because I need to fix that fast: The farmer won’t put up with me yelling anymore.

So I guess that’s what I’ll blog about. I have an anger problem with the farmer, and, honestly, everyone at work is sick of my anger issues, too. So I have a problem. It’s so much more interesting than the cupcakes that I decorate so well that my friend said she could sell them in SoHo.

5. Understand peoples’ boundaries and respect them.
This would be a great place for a picture. Of a cupcake. But what I’d like is a picture of me, and the farmer.

He won’t do that. He is figuring out boundaries. And that’s definitely one.

Another is yelling.

And another is his family.

I am figuring out boundaries, too. I would be insane to say that my blog is more important than he is. But, in some ways, it is. My blog is what makes me able to support myself–I can support myself, somehow, as long as I’m posting to my blog. And my blog is what makes me able to not feel isolated on a farm in the middle of nowhere. I’m always connected to people if I’m blogging.

But I told him that I’d stop blogging about him if he wants me to.

I could offer that only because I knew he wouldn’t want me to. He likes it. He likes that we would have had to keep a secret, forever, that we considered an abortion, but now we can talk about it openly and he can tell people what he thinks. He’s from a farm in the back, dead end street of a road in the middle of nowhere. No one ever asked him what he thought of abortion before. It’s interesting to him. To have a real discussion.

It makes him uncomfortable. But the thing is that the stuff that is most interesting to me is what makes me uncomfortable.

So we agree that we are back to where we were: Me blogging and him getting final edit to any post with him in it.

And I say, “Thank you so much. You make me feel really loved.”

He says, “Tell that to your readers so they know that. “

And I say, “They already do.”

Comment on: How to make yourself more likable

Also, maybe in the comments section, you will post your favorite post back to me. And tell me why it makes you happy. That would be a good gift.

Top Ten Jobs to Have, April 2006
I like this one because it is one of the first posts I did. It reminds me that each time I've tried something new I have been tentative, and largely terrible at it. This is not really a post as much as a start of a post. But I like the last line.

My financial history, and stop whining about your job, March 2007
My personal finances have been sort of a wreck since about 2001. It's very scary to have a messy financial life. It's even scarier to be a career advisor in a financial mess. I was so scared, all the time, that people would find out and then hate me. So it was a huge relief to write this post and come clean about who I am, and how I got here. And there were absolutely no negative ramifications from writing this post. It taught me so much about the value of being who I am, and trusting that it will be okay to be me.

Gen X updates outdated work and family goals, September 2007
I don't write a lot about gen X. Because I have a company that is an anthem to generation Y, but also because everyone who is not gen X hates hearing about gen X. We're a generation that has nothing to lose, so we take huge risks all the time. In history, it is the marginal, overlooked, overshadowed generations that are revolutionary. That's how I know that history will mark gen -X as the real revolutionaries of this era. And this post collects the data I have running through my head to support this conclusion.

Try to be funny, even if you're not, March 2008
It took me so long to realize that I have Asperger Syndrome. It was a result of lots of tiny little pieces of information piling up. One of them was after this post. I lamented the fact that I was funny but men don't like funny, they like hot. And my friend told me, "You're not funny. I mean, you are, but you don't know when you are." At first I thought this was informative because now I could just focus on being hot. But really, it was informative because it's true that I am never really sure when something's funny.

Tips for coping when your startup is out of cash, May 2009
I remember this day so clearly. I thought I was going to die from the pressure I was under, and I felt so totally isolated in a room full of parents with overachiever violin students. I wondered if they could tell I was falling apart. I wondered if my son thought I looked like other parents. The only way to keep myself sane that day was to write the post as the post was happening. It makes me happy that I have a place to publish something like this.

People ask me all the time how they can get more readers to their blog. The answer is that you have to be learning on your blog. If you're not learning, no one else is learning. You can't fake it. It's safe to talk about what you know, but it's not that interesting; no one likes a know-it-all. My favorite posts are the one's when I was doing something scary, but doing it with grace. In fact, I actually think those are my favorite times of life.

Comment on: My birthday post

Like most goals in life, my definition of blogging success has shifted as the circumstances of my life have shifted.

1. Post regularly without messing anything up.
My first goal was simply to understand how to get my writing onto the Internet. All the buzzwords overwhelmed me: feeds, trackbacks, SEO. I understood none of it, and it took weeks to get up the nerve to blog before I actually started. My first goal was to post regularly and avoid basic publishing mistakes like posting a draft before it was ready. (Reality check: There are much easier ways to start a blog than the method I chose.)

2. Create traffic.
I started measuring my success by traffic. But after a few months, I was totally overwhelmed and had to rethink what I was doing. Suddenly I couldn’t answer all the comments, I couldn’t even answer all my email at the beginning—it started coming in faster than I ever imagined. (Reality check: Traffic metrics are addictive.)

3. Grow conversations.
I started getting a handle on my email and the comments and the general influx of blog-related information from all the readers. And in the process, I realized that what I really cared about was the conversation. I wanted to meet new people and learn new things about topics I’m interested in. So I wanted the conversation to be good. I started measuring my success by the number of comments, and then, in turn, by how much I was learning from the comments. (Note: Here's a lovely post from Problogger about encouraging comments.)

4. Make money.
I realized that I loved blogging more than any other writing I had ever done. I knew I wanted this to be my job, so I needed to be able to support my family doing it. I started measuring my success by how much income I could generate. I hit my target of $100,000 a year pretty easily (thanks to Yahoo) so I realized that I could aim higher. (Reality check: Money is not a good blog goal for most people.)

5. Build a company.
So I decided to sell equity in my blog and spin off a company. I gauged my success on how quickly I could get the company launched and funded. And, once I did that, I gauged my success on how well I could leverage my blog to drive traffic to my company, Brazen Careerist. You might be sick of hearing about my company here, but, you might also be happy to know that I’ve accomplished that goal, too. (Reality check: I nearly died from the stress of doing this.)

6. Regain my sanity.
So, here I am, asking myself, what is my goal with the blog now? Right now, what I want for myself is to be calm and peaceful. I have had a really wild ride in the last five years. I have gone from being nearly broke in NYC, moving to Wisconsin, starting a company,  getting a divorce, traveling every week, while I’m trying to raise kids. Life has been chaotic and erratic and I’m sick of that. I want a break. I want to feel grounded, stable and I want routine.

Part of that, of course, is why I’m with a farmer. It’s the farmer stereotype: grounded, stable, waking up every day to do chores. But I need to find that stuff from inside myself, as well.

On days when I post, I feel grounded and stable and connected. On days I don’t post, I don’t feel that. Which is why I should be posting every day. I see people who have very busy lives who are able to post every day.

So this will be a test for me. For now, my definition of successful blogging is using my blog to give myself a sense of stability and connectedness.

Each blogger starts for some reason. A good test for whether a goal is really meaningful to you is, do you keep at it? Do you keep striving to meet the goal? Sometimes I wonder, do I really want stability and a sense of being grounded, or do I just talk about it? The only way to find out is this: committing to it here, in a very public way, and seeing if it sticks.

Comment on: What makes a blog successful?

I challenge you to think of a popular blogger who lacks focus on their blog.

In the history of writing, everything has a focus. It's a contract you have with the reader. You stay within the bounds of the reader's expectations, and if you do that, you can write surprises that seem to stray from your topic, and the reader stays with you. Because surprises are fun. But if there's no contract because there is no focus, then there are no surprises. Every great piece of writing works this way.

Think about it: Canterbury Tales. The topic is getting to the end of the trip.  Or Moby Dick. Melville can write about everything—God, the American dream, fishing boats, marriage, mental illness—and he gets away with it because his topic is totally solid: Nailing the whale.

I challenge you to find a great piece of writing with no topic.

Even columnists stick to their focus. It’s part of the fun. When you audition for a print-based column, you submit ten sample columns to show that you can be interesting in a variety of ways while still sticking to the main topic. Because it’s hard to do.

You can write about any topic, but you have to link it to your focus. Look at my how-to posts. Most of them are only tangentially about how to do some career thing. Most of them are actually about something else. That’s why they are interesting.

Look my blog: Do you need me to tell you to use bullets instead of paragraphs on your resume? No. Do you need me to tell you to stand up when you do a phone interview? No. Because there are 400 other writers who will tell you that. So I need to do something else.

But I can only get you to read me if you come knowing what you expect. So I always relate what I’m writing to careers. Sometimes, it’s easy. I knew I wanted to write about my bed bug trauma. And I knew, quickly, that it was also about financial stress, which is, of course, a topic that’s fair-game in the career world.

Sometimes you just need a little patience: I knew for years that I wanted to write about abortion. I listen to Brick, by Ben Folds 5 all the time, and I love his contribution to the discussion about abortion. I wanted to make a contribution like his, but I couldn’t relate it to careers. Until I could. And then I wrote it.

Please do not tell me that you are just going to write whatever you want and you don’t care who reads it, or if anyone reads it. You are lying to yourself. Of course you care. We each have a limited amount of time in our lives, and blogging takes some of that time. Your blog is not your journal. Believe me. I know. I‘ve been keeping a journal since I was five. I have seventy-five volumes of handwritten journals, and it is totally different than blogging because it’s not public. The nature of a blog is that you are choosing to write publicly, so it is, by definition, for other people to read.

So, show some respect for people and pick a topic.

Also, show some respect for yourself. There are so many benefits you earn from blogging that do not require tons of pageviews. Here’s a list of them. Mostly, the list is driven by being known for what you are good at. But for that to work you need to know what you’re aiming for. What do you want people to know you for? Where do you want to go next? Answering those two questions is what will inform your blog topic and give you the focus for your blog.

Don’t tell me you can’t decide. Everyone knows where they want to go next. Even if it’s probably wrong, you know, right now, where you’re leaning. So write to that. Sure, it might change, but you need to commit to something, right now. Each day you have to wake up and do something. So you have to guess where to aim. We are all just guessing. Make your best guess and keep going in that direction until you find something else. And your blog is an expression of that commitment to yourself to have direction, even as you doubt it.

Comment on: Blogs without topics are a waste of time