How Can I Be a Good Blogger When All The Good Farmers Are Taken?


No blog would be complete without the painful, public self-analysis by the blogger asking him or herself, ‘WHY DO I BLOG?”  Of course you as the reader then must assess, “Why do I care?”  And based on your answer you’ll either come back or you won’t.  If you go then know this: I’ll miss you.

In an attempt to answer my part of the question equation, and figuring that others have the answers I’m looking for, I’ve been researching other women’s blogs.  I’ve been keeping myself mostly to the big, fancy, popular ones because if I’m going to spend my dwindling moments left on earth researching other blogs then I’d like to visit the ones that might be the best.  And right away I have a major life regret: I didn’t marry a farmer or a rancher.  That appears to have been a big blogging mistake.

The Pioneer Woman, Ree Drummond, married herself a sexy Rancher.  How smart was that?  I didn’t even know ranchers were sexy until Ree showed me just how much.  She’s managed to parlay that one savvy decision into an enviable life of a published author and “The Most Influential Female Voice on the Web (Category: Mommy).”

And then there’s Penelope Trunk, someone you might not know, but who is a very popular blogger/tweeter who married a farmer.  It appears that she went and had to divorce her first husband to get the blog-requisite agrarian male mate.  But still.  She married a farmer and she gets to call him The Farmer on her blog.  How sexy is that?  Suddenly, despite being happily married and very content, I want a man in agriculture.  And you know what advertisers say?  Create a need and the customer will come flocking to your door.  Now I have this sudden unquenchable need for a man riding a big tractor with his face obscured by his wide-brimmed hat; a need I didn’t even know I had two hours ago.

This brings me to the next problem.  After looking at the two above blogs for awhile I realize another huge mistake I’ve made: I’ve shown full frontal shots of my husband’s face so now you already know what he looks like.  I’ve ruined the mystery for you and destroyed the allure necessary to keep you coming back in the hopes that one day you’ll catch a glimpse of him.  I’ve even thought about taking those pictures of my husband off and buying him a cowboy hat and retaking his pictures with his face in serious shadow just to see if people would like that.

Since I’m about as far from married to a Farmer or a Rancher as you can get, this has made me very worried about the future of my blog.   Lacking the right type of husband and disinclined to exchange the one I do have for a different model, I started looking at something called a “niche”.

But what’s left?

Not much.  It seems every good and desirable niche is already taken.  There are already plenty of fashionistas, and homeschool moms, and moms, and women and women going through The Change.  No matter how vehement my declarations that I’m still a devout Christian, I’m too sardonic to tackle the faith angle, and there isn’t anything on this planet that I hate worse than politics.  I don’t have any tech knowledge whatsoever.  I’m most definitely not a geek.  You are reading this blog through no skill on my part.  Total luck.  

The bichon thing seems good.  I’m getting a ton of hits about my little bichon, Doo.  Of course dogs are always a big draw.  But then I read one blog advice page that said that you can’t talk about deep philosophical things AND your dog on the same blog because that’s confusing to your readers.  I guess readers can either feel warm and fuzzy towards you or intellectually challenged, but never both.

I’ve thought about splitting my blog up.

But I’m not sure I have enough material to have a bichon-only blog and I’m not deep enough to have a sufficient amount of deep philosophical thoughts for a deeply thoughtful blog either.  Maybe a pamphlet.  I probably think enough deep thoughts to fill a tri-fold pamphlet.  If I add artwork.  Maybe I could charge a dollar and get a million people to read my deep-thoughts pamphlet and that would take care of my real problem: job stress.

The job stress thing seems like a perfect topic, plenty of bloggers blog about that.  But I can’t talk about my job stress here on my blog.  First of all, I’m a healthcare professional and I can’t risk patient confidentiality.  And let’s face it, you patients are a pain in the ass and you’d all think I’m talking about you.  And then I’d get sued and lose my license and have to eat government cheese.  And I don’t want the “Old Lady Eating Government Cheese” niche.

Besides, once I let my worlds collide that cookie was crumbled.  I’d have to start an entirely different blog, an anonymous one, maybe with a foreign IP address, so I could secretly talk about where all my real job stress comes from, where no one would read and know it was me.  Maybe I will.  I could call it something like “Work on the Deathstar Continues: An Insider’s Perspective”.  This title would be very appropriate since my job is very stressful for lots of reasons that really aren’t anybody else’s fault but my own, stemming mostly from the fact that I’d make a really bad Storm Trooper.  I have very little respect for authority, and I don’t like being told what to do, and those are sort of the whole point of having Storm Troopers, isn’t it?

They say you should write what you are passionate about.  I’m passionate about sex.  Actually I’m very passionate about sex.  Maybe too much.  Pretty much every major life decision I’ve made has been based on whether I liked the sex or not.  I’m smart enough to know that good sex is hardly the basis for a life, but I haven’t found anything else better, or more reliable.  And besides my feelings about sex are probably genetic and therefore not my fault.  The last words my mother wrote before her death were something like, “Oh Glorious Sex, I’m Glad I Found You.”  Some daughters would be upset that their mom’s dying words weren’t, “Thank you, honey, for taking such good care of me.”  or “Gee, I’m sorry your childhood sucked so bad.”  But I couldn’t really hold this one against her.

Mom, if you’re up there, you were sure right on that one.

Dang, I’m going to miss it when it’s gone.

I could keep writing about my mother and my enmeshed love/hate relationship with her.  She’d love the symmetry of that.  From her perspective we were actually just one person so my blogging about her makes it like she never really died.

So my question is, what is my niche?  I’m trying to figure it out because at this point it doesn’t seem like I have one.  If you feel like helping me, I’d appreciate it. Comment.  Email me.  Throw an anonymous rock through my window with a note attached.  Help me!

If you liked this then you might like:  I Wouldn’t Kill Myself Over My Elbows (Yet)


28 thoughts on “How Can I Be a Good Blogger When All The Good Farmers Are Taken?

  1. >Chloe, I think you have a great niche. You write about incidents in your life that make you think and grow. You share laughs with your readers, ask questions of your readers, share reality, share sadness, share ideas. I don't think you need a different niche. Be who you are.SusanSusan

  2. >What if I just threw an un-anonymous rock through your window with a Red Bra attached to it? Your niche, I think, is thinking outside the box (niche?). In modeling that there's more than one right way to do things, while still loving those as-yet-still unenlightened souls who may be reading your blog and growing (secretly, of course) jealous. ;0) Think homeschool mom who would much rather wear a red bra than a denim jumper, and you're beginning to catch my drift. Oh, and in having LOADS of fun while you're doing it — whatever "it" may be (grin)…that part's just gravy!Sherry

  3. >Your niche is pointing out through humor and sarcasm that no one is perfect, that there is no ONE right way to do things (unless it's kegals), and that we do not live in a black/white, either/or world. We live in a world of gray and/both. We can be christian moms and sexy. We can be angry and love. We can wear skirts above our knee and wear high heels.

  4. >I first came to "know" you, and appreciate your perspectives on the Sonlight forums (I usually just lurked.), and then found your blog. I appreciate the variety of your blog. I think Sherry and Julia are right on. Please keep writing.Cathy

  5. >I agree with Mary Grace – YOU are a niche. You're honest and funny and brilliant and articulate and bold and encouraging and supportive and therapeutic and cathartic and genuine and honest and kind and MY FRIEND (how spoiled am I?!?).

  6. >Chloe, I've been thinking about the farmer/rancher angle off and on for most of the day. I think it doesn't really have anything to do with the blogger's spouse's profession. It has to do with a blogger who is dazzled by and delighted with her husband. You and Tick seem to have the right ingredients already!Susan

  7. >Honey, you ROCK because you have the ability to tell it like it is and look good doing it. Don't stop. I've got a long way to go to get to where you are and I need to know it can be done and done well. ICL,Peg

  8. >As the others said- you are a one of a kind. A stand out. You are genuine, you deal with the messy subjects, etc. If something is really bothering you, you address it. You do not have a facade and THAT is a wonderful niche. I guess that means you are your own niche. 🙂 I love how you think about things in different ways AND can then articulate in an engaging fashion.

  9. >You know what I love about your blog? I never know what I'm gonna get! But, I do know that I'm going to laugh, maybe cry, definitely think.Sounds like a good thing to me. Just keep on being you!

  10. >Oh, those are such lovely things to say. I'm really, really touched. It has been so much fun to write lately and I feel like I'm growing in it. Thanks for being such good friends and supports to me. And I'm so glad to hear that you guys aren't expecting me to resort to filling the "Old Lady on Government Cheese" niche. That's a real relief.

  11. >You are funny! I had a ball reading this post, and lol several times! I am surprised though at your revelation because I married a "farmer" (homesteader) and feel quite disenchanted at times because my life seems so boring and out of touch with society. Now I'm going to have to read those blogs you suggested, and see why agriculture has such a big draw. This should be fun!

  12. >If this turns into Nothing But Bichons, I am so unsubscribing to you. Unless I can't figure out how to unsubscribe, as is occurring with one blog I keep trying to unload day after day after day. She's like a CURSE.If only I could figure out my niche as well….~sigh~We could take the world by storm.

  13. >Chloe, they all said it. You are a niche. You are funny and honest and straight forward and blunt in a loving kind of way, all rolled into one. You say what we need to hear — that we can wear red bras, enjoy sex, and that there is life after our hs'ed kids leave the house. Wow, how we need to hear that. And that, holy smokes, it can be one really HOT life if we let it/make it so. Not that I think you have to stick with that as your niche, but you being you, that's a pretty good niche. And if randomness on a blog is bad, I'm maybe doing something wrong. Oh well. I like the randomness (on mine and on yours, but yours is better). Keep being you, Chloe. That's why we're all here.

  14. >lol, Susan, I'll take that as a very good warning. And a dang good title for a Bichon Only Blog, too. It's good to have something to fall back on.The Reader, You are always an encourager. I'm really writing lately and it is scary and hard, but I'm trying to do something new in my life and the only way to do it is to do it. Thanks for being such a loyal friend to me. I appreciate you.

  15. >I'd be interested in the 'still working on the deathstar' posts but that may because my Wookie is *still* building robots 25 years down the line, so I'm getting used it now.But I enjoy the memory that there is lots of fun things in life and concentrating on them rather than the poo stuff is a good thing.Fashion advice is always a good thing too 🙂

  16. >Just your profile picture on this blog, standing in front of the Lourve (I can't even spell it), seems WAY MORE EXCITING than my homey life. But we did have fresh lettuce from the garden today, green and purple, yummy!!!

  17. >I don't have anything specific to say, I'm just trying to get a comment registered.And I think you are good without a niche. Niches are limiting and who wants that?

  18. >Tabitha, Thanks for commenting. I really don't want to be pigeonholed, at least not right now. I just want to write and enjoy it. But it does make it hard when I'm filling out those blog connection questionaires. They want you to pick a category and apparently, "Chloe of the Mountain" isn't a defined category yet. Go figure.

  19. >Kristy, I envy your green vegetables.Travel is something I never really did until my children were grown. I hope not to cause (too much) envy with pictures and reports of my travels, but inspire moms with the knowledge that life won't end when the children are gone. Truly, the best is yet to be!

  20. Just your profile picture on this blog, standing in front of the Lourve (I can't even spell it), seems WAY MORE EXCITING than my homey life. But we did have fresh lettuce from the garden today, green and purple, yummy!!!

  21. Oh, those are such lovely things to say. I'm really, really touched. It has been so much fun to write lately and I feel like I'm growing in it. Thanks for being such good friends and supports to me. And I'm so glad to hear that you guys aren't expecting me to resort to filling the "Old Lady on Government Cheese" niche. That's a real relief.

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