Blogplug

When I decided that I was going to write a blog, I also decided that it would be quite nice if it had some sort of readership. I didn’t expect vast numbers of people to read it, but I thought it would be nice if more people read it than wrote it, and that more time was spent reading it than writing it. So, that was my first goal, and I had some strategies for making that happen.

One of those strategies was plugging.

Some of you will know that the husband and I share a Twitter account. This is because he has a much bigger public presence than I have, and I have much more time to tweet than he does. I see no value in pretending to be him, and he has less time than I have to tweet, so we share an account and I tweet more than he does. I do have an account of my own, too, but I’d be daft not to plug my blog on our joint Twitter feed. Some lovely fellow out there also runs a fanclub @danabnettclub, which is mighty dandy, but which neither of us tweets on.

I also like to be up front about things. I dislike being suckered into hitting links that take me to places that I have no interest in going to, so I always declare at the outset when a link I tweet goes off to my blog. I call these blogplugs. They go something like this, “Lunchtime blogplug, “Blogplug”: http://www.nicolavincent-abnett.com/2012/12/blogplug.html.

Of course, being a woman of words, being a writer of sorts, and being conscious that people read stuff and respond to it, I chose that word, ‘blogplug’ very carefully. I chose it because it does precisely what it says it does, but there is also humour attached. How many people read that word as ‘buttplug’? Well... Pretty much every filthy minded adult I know, or rather every filthy minded adult that follows the husband on Twitter reads ‘blogplug’ as ‘buttplug’ and I knew that they would; that’s why I chose to use the word blogplug in the first place. I wanted people to look twice, to think twice, and then to smile.

People don’t, as a rule, like having things thrust under their noses, they don’t like being advertised at and sold to, and that’s what plugging is, so if you can make them smile while you’re selling your wares, that’s got to be a good thing, surely?

I might be a little daft... In fact, I’d probably be a little surprised, upset even, if you didn’t think I was a little daft, but I’m not stupid, and I do know what I’m doing... At least, I do some of the time.

So for all you lovely, filthy minded adults, for all the husband’s lovely followers, fellow writers and contemporaries, and for all of you who do not know me or what I do or why, you might have guessed something about who I might be knowing a little about who the husband is. 

Perhaps it’s true, perhaps, in the end, it does take one to know one.