Why you shouldn’t sell your blog space for peanuts

by Veronica on May 1, 2012

in Blogging

I’ve been blogging for a long time now and slowly, with the rise of mummyblogging in Australia, I’ve found myself on the lists that PR companies seem to share around. This means that I get offered some things that are interesting, a bunch of stuff that is totally unsuitable and have my inbox regularly filled with press releases that appear to want me to regurgitate them here for my readers.

But here’s the thing:

This space is not free.

Sure, it’s only pixels on a computer screen and so therefore, if I decide that I love your charity/business/company and want to promote you for nothing, then I can.

However.

This space was built on trust capital. My trust capital, to be precise. My readers visit because I give them something that they’re looking for. Maybe that’s escapism, or an amusing story, or a diatribe about facebook. For whatever reason, visitors trust that the posts I put up here will contain good value.

I’ve noticed recently a decline in high-value items for review. I’m not bemoaning this, I’m just stating it as fact. Instead of items that I will actually use, I’m being offered $15 kids shoes that I could buy myself, or cereal, or small value items that can be sent out cheaply and easily.

It’s a natural evolution of things really; it’s easier to send 50 bloggers a small item than it is to send 5 bloggers a decent trial selection of product. Mass marketing at its finest.

It’s nice to receive a few products in the mail that my children will eat or drink, something that I may decide to buy myself later on down the track.

But I can’t seem to bring myself to write 200 words about a product that costs less than $10. In fact, the latest thing that arrived in the mail had a dollar value total of $6 and I was left wondering: Is this what I’ve sold my soul for?

Sure, the product is great. The company is fantastic and one I’ve supported in the past. But I can’t get past being expected to promote something through my social media channels that I could have bought for the cost of a cup of coffee.

I offer a sponsored post option here on Sleepless Nights. It’s in my media kit and while some businesses are hesitant to pay real money (but it’s so expensive, can’t we just have an in-post link that stays on your blog forever and ever for $40?), others have seen the value of dealing with engaged readers and have paid up promptly. It’s this that makes me so hesitant to sell my space for peanuts.

And, I don’t think you should be devaluing yourself like that either. Giving away a $5 gift voucher, or writing about a food item that is worth less than a sandwich at the local bakery, it’s a bit ridiculous. You are worth more than a $10 product, and so is your trust capital.

Sure, it’s your blog and you can do whatever you like with it.

But if you sell your soul for peanuts to begin with, don’t expect businesses to start paying you anything more later on down the track.

***

ETA:

The ever lovely Zoey and I were discussing this earlier in the week and she’s got things to say about not selling your space for nothing too. You can read about her thoughts here.

{ 25 comments }

Watching the weather come in.

by Veronica on April 29, 2012

in Life

Watching the weather come in

Also seen while outside freezing my nipples off: a murmuration of starlings.

{ 4 comments }

FINALLY, a Mother’s Day gift

by Veronica on April 28, 2012

in Sponsored Posts

I’ve been a mother for nearly six years now and I’ve never received anything for Mother’s Day. I should scream and wail about this fact (and I’ve been known to), but Nathan is hopeless at gift buying and I accept this.

Last year was the worst year, as I expected to receive at least a token item that Amy had made for Mother’s Day, plus a little something from the school Mother’s Day stall – only Nathan didn’t hide the present well enough and Amy ate my chocolates and the dog ate the handmade necklace and card.

I may have been a little grumpy about this.

Okay, I was a lot grumpy and rather upset.

Bygones.

Amy has matured a lot in the last twelve months and while I’m not confident that leaving her alone with chocolates is a great idea, at least I know that the card is likely to make it home to me.

This year however, Ferrero Rocher offered to send me a Mother’s Day Hamper from their new online Boutique. Knowing that it was probably my only chance to get chocolate for Mother’s Day that I didn’t have to buy myself, I agreed.

My only complaint is that there aren’t enough of the white coconut-type chocolates in this hamper and that I was forced to share the mini ferreros with my children.

If your children are too little to make things and your husband is terrible at gift buying like mine, you can buy your own Ferrero Rocher Mother’s Day Hamper here.

—

I was not paid for this post, although I did receive the chocolates above for free to review. I can happily say that I am making my way through them as I type.

{ 16 comments }

I admire her spirit, as I tear out my hair

by Veronica on April 26, 2012

in Amy,Gotta Laugh

“You may not speak to me like that, I’m your mother, not one of your school friends.”

I cringed inside as I snapped that sentence at Amy, remembering my mother saying exactly the same thing to me when I got too mouthy or talked back once too often. It was the right time to say it however, as Amy gulped and apologised.

Five is full of mouthiness and opinions and arguments. It’s also full of discussion, interesting conversations and some amazing creativity, but those aren’t the bits making me tear my hair out.

You don’t get to speak to me like that seems to be my catchphrase of the moment; the only thing I’ve got in the face of increasing rudeness and screams. It’s not that she isn’t allowed to disagree with me, it’s that she isn’t allowed to do it in quite that tone.

You know the tone, the you’re so much stupider than I am right now.

I’m sorry kid, I’m not stupid and you need to go and sit in your bedroom until you can speak nicely.

TIME OUT is my other weapon in my ever decreasing arsenal, as she shouts at me that she WILL NOT GO and YOU CAN’T MAKE ME and YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME.

I respond with you don’t get to speak to me like that, you can come out when you’re ready to speak nicely, NO, you CANNOT hit me and I swear to God child, you can stay in there until dinner is ready if you try that again and no, I don’t care that you kicked the wall, it wasn’t very sensible and ACTIONS EQUAL CONSEQUENCES. You hurt your OWN foot.

It’s frustrating and admirable how defiant she is in the face of two parents staring her down. Even as I march her to time out, with, if I’m being honest, the help of her ear because there was no other option short of bodily lifting her, I am proud of her spirit and of her anger, and her ability to decide what she wants and aim for it no matter what.

I don’t want to destroy that.

I also don’t want her hitting – me or anyone else, or thinking that it’s okay to shout I WANT and expecting me to capitulate simply because she wants something.

Five is tough, and extraordinary.

Five is where the influence of her peers starts to war with the influence we can provide and I’m left explaining that X is not the boss of you and you can play with other kids if X is being mean.

I suspect that X is a sassy little so-and-so at school – but I can’t blame my daughter’s behaviour on them.

Much.

Five is amazing, however I’m not sure I’m going to get through it with all of my hair follicles intact. Amy shouts and screams and throws objects and gets marched to her bedroom to think about why she needs to speak nicely over and over again. It doesn’t seem to make any difference, except that she’s learned the value of a good apology (spoken 5 seconds into the time-out, with expectation that she is free and clear because of a sorry) and I’ve learned that she responds poorly to being told that Sorry can’t fix everything and you need to think about why I’m unhappy with you.

It was easier, when she was smaller. She was more contrite, less mouthy and if nothing worked, at least she was small enough to be lifted bodily without causing any damage. Now, flung elbows are like little sharp javelins that you’ve got to dodge for the sake of your nose.

It’s hard and amazing, to watch your child grow into herself.

Now excuse me, I need a hot drink and a good lie down.

{ 13 comments }

Only Hearts Should Be Worn On Sleeves… + giveaway

by Veronica on April 24, 2012

in Blogging

Only Hearts Should Be Worn On Sleeves: The snotty truth about motherhood is an eBook by the lovely and very talented Kellie O’Brien. I was lucky enough to receive an advance copy to read and review, and eagerly settled down in bed the other day for a bit of light reading.

Kellie is funny. Her take on motherhood made me giggle and remember only too well my first few months of parenting Amy.

Taken from Kellie’s column in The Advocate, you can see why Kellie drew such a big following and had strangers in the street wanting to meet “Baby Ella” and congratulate Kellie and her husband.

Below, Kellie talks a little bit about the ebook:

Only Hearts Should Be Worn On Sleeves is definitely funny and I would say a must read for mums-to-be, or new mums. I thoroughly enjoyed it, but I had to keep stifling my urge to send Kellie emails filled with commiserations and “I have so been there” type thoughts, as I reminded myself that Kellie now has a second daughter and knows exactly what she is doing.

Heh.

It can be purchased here.

Kellie O’Brien can be found blogging at Three L’il Princesses, or on twitter here.

And! Because Kellie is lovely, she is offering one lucky commenter a free copy of her eBook! Just leave a comment below to enter.

Entries close 1st May.

—

I wasn’t paid or compensated in any way for participating in this virtual book tour. I did receive a free copy of Kellie’s book.

{ 12 comments }

← Previous Entries

Next Entries →