I was just over at From the Grey Box, a blog entirely about what a guy finds in his apartment building’s ‘free box’:
Look, I know for a fact at least a few of my friends check out this blog occasionally. I also know for a fact that at least one person I don’t even really know checks out this blog occasionally (that would be my friend Liz’s friend, to whom Liz introduced me as “the guy with the grey box blog” (I’m paraphrasing), which friend said he checked out my blog occasionally, which made him the first person I’ve met who’s read my blog before actually meeting me, which I’m not sure what I think about this.
I left a comment, which I thought bore repeating. I’ve tweaked it a bit:
As a, er, student of all this blogging stuff, I’ve observed a recurring theme: there comes a time in every blogger’s life when they recognize, for the first time, that strangers read their blog. Or they discover that a particular peer group–say, their workmates–know about and read their blog, despite their not having revealed it to them.
The response, especially among personal diarists, is often to immediately shut down their blog and start again, anonymously.
It’s like being on stage, and looking out into the audience expecting only to see friends and family. All of a sudden, there’s a bunch of strangers looking back at you.
Maybe this has been one of the appeals of Facebook (and previous such networks)–that you can have precise control over your audience?