Reality Reading

It seems to me that the blog shares the main appeal of reality tv: it lets the audience escape into another world, yet one that's real. That world is unpredictable. Unlike a sitcom, in which things wrap up neatly in 30 minutes, reality just keeps going. There's always suspense, always a reason to watch the next episode or read the next post.

As someone fairly new to blogging, I really shouldn't claim to know what makes a good blog. But I have an opinion anyway. I think a good blog gives the reader the feeling that they understand the blogger and the blogger's thoughts. Blog posts have to be close enough to the blogger's true thoughts that the reader feels like they are being let into someone else's head. The voice of the blogger should be consistent. It should always sound like the same person writing.

A blog really is an on-line diary. It is reality reading. The example of a reality tv show I like to use is an old one: "Colonial House" and other "House" programs on public tv, where people were videotaped living as if in another time. The fun of those shows was to be let into someone else's daily life, and a life from another time.

In a blog, the audience reads about another person's daily life. A blog has the same thrill as an old diary you find in the attic. All the details are fascinating. You want to know what the person had for breakfast because it helps you to imagine the person. Somehow, the mundane details gain stature when part of someone else's life.

A blog can be about a particular subject. Molly Wizenberg writes about food in her blog, "Orangette." But she never takes food out of the context of her life, which is what really appeals to the reader. An essay about the soufflé would be worth nothing if you could not imagine Molly with her glass of wine patiently letting her soufflé cook, refraining from opening the oven door.

If people like to read each other's diairies on-line, why are we so close-mouthed at bus stops? Working as a cashier, I have found that people just need a little coaxing to open up and talk about their real lives. When a customer checks out, they may be content to exchange no more words than please and thank you with the cashier. But simply asking, "How's x day treating you?" has the amazing effect of making the customer reveal what's on their mind that day. It immediately turns the interaction from scripted to friendly. I think that people actually want to connect with each other in real life, not just virtual life, but sometimes are afraid to start.

When I am trying to be friendly to people I don't know, I summon courage from a Crenshaw in my family who once had a discussion about accents with the person sitting next to her on the bus. "In Kentucky, we say, "nas wyat ras" (nice white rice)," to which her companion replied, "Why, don't you like rice?" When I'm thinking of something to say to a stranger, I figure that if one can talk about rice, one can talk about anything.