Lots of ideas, lots of blogs. Or not.
I’m trying to hold myself accountable and keep my in-house blog ideas on Janepedia, if they work there.
Nicheless Rebel, for example, was going to be an external blog but I never quite felt it. I didn’t want to maintain it as a blog when I was going to inevitably merge it with Janepedia some years down the line anyway.
All roads lead to Jane…pedia.
My blog life is different now.
I have three blogs I maintain for keeps —
- Janepedia (you are here)
- Crunchy Family w/cousin
- Smoothies by Color
— and a few blogs for flipping purposes. I’m raising them to sell them. My blog flipping adventure is about more than money; it keeps my knowledge of starting/maintaining a blog in 20xx relevant and allows me to do several experiments at once if I so wish.
Janepedia is the home. Jane.FYI is the remote. Instead of listing multiple websites on a contact card, I can list just one — jane.fyi. It brands itself.
My priorities are different now. I’m different now.
I’ve a history of saying things will be different, and then the actions don’t fall into place. I’ve been working on a couple of different projects. Nicheless Rebel is one of them, but instead a column on my blog rather than having its own blog.
I’m nicheless, but I’m venturing into an experimental category. I’m pushing my boundaries and the boundaries of what’s acceptable in blogging, despite its preexisting diversity.
I’ve begun to refer to myself as Jane E. Lawson, Jane E. for short online.
My heart stopped when I saw Drizzle & Hurricane’s review for a book by a Liz Lawson. There are several Jane Lawsons, too.
I dislike the nickname Jay that is used for people whose names begin with J. Even going by J is difficult, because that’s my dad. I love the way Janie sounds, but I’m not Janie, I’m Jane — but I can create the same effect by doing Jane E.
A name is a name, and names don’t matter to most people, but my name matters to me. Names define you. Change a baby’s name, and you change their whole life. Change your name, and you change your life.
It’s like a mind map
All roads lead to Jane. I do — and want to do — many things, but they all lead to me. Or they all stem from me, but roads branch off like mind maps, too.
I try to keep most things in-house, but then I have some things that don’t quite fit the umbrella I’ve created for myself.
And that’s okay.
It’s messy, but life is also messy.
I’m building a life I need not escape from, that allows me the freedom to live my life as I want to, regardless of how that looks to someone else. My luxuries are not as lavish as a mansion with leather furniture you’re not supposed to sit on and antiques lining the walls. They’re more of the I-want-an-aesthetically-pleasing-pantry-and-fridge. I want Halo Top in my freezer, on standby for the moods that call for them. I want clear containers for the bulk of what I have so I won’t be so keen to forget about it.
I want at least one cat.
To reach a point wherein I could romanticize about this life I want to claim myself, I had to stop feeling guilty for it. Jealous, envious people call people like me out on wanting to be popular, like that’s what popular people have, and it would always make me feel guilty because I was raised to believe that popularity was wrong. That having a rich life, regardless of how many digits are in my income, was wrong.
Lifestyle bloggers are selling a lifestyle, even if they bank on nothing.
I don’t care about popularity. I don’t care about being liked or likeable. In my doing what I do, I earn respect. Respect is often mistaken for like, but they’re not the same. Respect builds the brand; like builds expectation to be more and more likeable, no matter what it costs you.
I’m also keen to drive more traffic — more people — to my blog, and this is a great, non-sleazy way to do it.
Like I said, my priorities are different.
All roads lead to me, to Jane, to this life I aim to claim as my own.
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