'How to Not Blog' and other web tales

Yesterday I did something I've never done before. I bought three web design magazines. Not one, three. I bought a copy of every type of web design magazine in WHSmiths (obviously only three).

Buying the magazines itself was an experience. I'd already been there once this week, to look (so this was planned, calculated. This was not a whim. This was not an accidental purchase. A fact I am finding a little hard to swallow) but had decided that £16 was rather a lot to buy on three web design magazines and it was something that needed to be considered deeply for some time.

But yesterday I plucked up the courage to go back, to finish what I'd started.

I never buy magazines. Occasionally, if on a train journey, I will invest in whatever trashy celebrity magazine has been reduced to get people to buy that issue and hopefully hook them into a life of style, glamour and secrets of the vaguely rich and famous. So I was shocked to see the aisle was absolutely rammed with people on their lunch breaks reading magazines.

My geek mags were hidden in amongst far trendier Photoshop design magazines (I can't justify buying one of them because I think they would feel severely let down by theirclientelee when I attempted to recreate some of the tutorials, enthusiastically but somewhat misguidedly. Either that or I'd be stopped leaving the shop by a security guard saying 'come on love, seriously?' and he'd take the magazine off me, disappointedly shaking his head, and place it back on the shelf where it belonged, for a proper designer to claim) and even more geeky computer magazines, just to the right of the gay magazines.

I'm guessing the positioning of these magazines is quite a good ploy. Those appearing to be all technological can flip happily between staring wistfully at the gay magazines and pretending to look impressed at Intel's latest processor held, usually, by a scantily clad female exposing copious amounts of flesh, often with quite severe musclage (obviously those damn things are heavy, or maybe Geek Men like their woman to be dominating and, err, muscley), on the cover of 'My PC Magazine'.

So there we were. Men upon geeky, balding, insecure men. And me.

I waited, impatiently, fidgeting, for my turn to move closer to the shelves (I quickly discovered there was a pecking order, and I was clearly the small, scrawny Web Designer trampled underfoot until the Geek Men had read everything they wished to consume).

The copies of the three magazines, the exact same ones that I had picked up, scanned and then replaced on the shelves earlier in the week, were still there. I picked them up and headed for the checkout, so I wouldn't buckle and buy something that I actually wanted.

So, on the tube home, I opened the first of my three magazines. I held the cover down on my lap so as other tubers would not realise what I was reading. I felt like a filthy old man perusing a porn magazine with a rather uncomfortable fetish angle, trying desperately not to admit to themselves that they are actually turned on by the contents of the pages (or well I imagine that's what they'd feel like anyway).

I was not, incidentally, turned on by the contents of the pages of my magazines. I attempted to hide the magazines because people are, most of the time, insanely bored on the tube and are searching for eye candy, something to amuse their tired, weary gaze other than the posters advising commuters to get liposuction for a better life, or buy a new mobile phone (apparently this is all that advertisers think that commuters want, no need, in order to improve their lives).

I'm a classic for this. I'll have the Metro sat openly on my lap (or as open as I can get it jammed in between fat hairy man #1 and fat hairy man #2 who clearly have no idea of personal space) but, instead, be reading the Metro on fat hairy man #1's knee. I know how bloody irritating it is, (especially if it is a novel and I want to protect the fictional world that I am currently immersed in and don't want fat hairy man #2 joining me in there), and how I make judgments on the reading material of others. I know I should a. not be so hypercritical and b. not be so worried about what other people think but I am and as that's the least of my personality worries at the moment, I think I'll lay that self criticism aside and address it when I'm in a period of Least Stress.

I bought these magazines because I wanted to become part of that community, just out of my reach, where there are people who love the web, who get excited about the latest podcasting tools (I admit I've never even heard one), who thrive on CSS developments and new software releases (although, I have to admit, even I got rather too excited about Photoshop CS2 and Flash 8), people who need the internet, and rather enjoy indulging in that need.

I wanted to learn their secret, I wanted to know how to love the web too.

I learnt a few bits and pieces but the secret of loving the web was, disappointingly, not hidden between the pages (I did look damn hard and even tried flicking backwards through them).

But the one thing I woke up thinking about this morning, were some tips to writing a successful blog. One that sticks out clearly is 'write short, concise blogs as your readers don't have the time or inclination to read lengthy, rambling posts and will quickly get bored'.

*ahem*.

I left these magazines at Yorkshire Lass's house last night (if you're reading this, you're welcome to have a read over the weekend by the way...).

I wonder whether that was intentional.