Leaving a comment on a blog is an excellent way to say what you think about the content of the blog you have chosen to read. Commenting is becoming part of the conversation. People comment, or write a blog post about the topic themselves, because something they read interested, motivated, angered, intrigued or just plain made them happy. So why does there seem to be fewer and fewer comments on blogs these days?
Blogs with huge readerships, the “A-Listers “ have no problem getting comments. People comment there to be seen engaging in the conversation, challenging the ideas contained in the post and promoting their own sites. We don’t question that A- List bloggers input great value and knowledge into the blogosphere. I’ve gone to many other blogs that also provide great information and insight but have small readerships and very few comments. I wonder why?
There’s been some conversation lately around the issue of the value of comments. There seems to be a trend towards less commenting and more posting of links, for example, on Twitter. This isn’t new. I’ve seen the topic come and go. I keep wondering about this the longer I blog and the more I read.

I read a lot of blogs and comment on few. I’ve been thinking about that lately. At times I believe I don’t have anything of value to add to the conversation or I’m intimated by the other comments. Sometimes I have too many to read and not enough time so I just tweet the link. I know that when I receive comments on a post I wrote I feel like they add value and I truly appreciate hearing what others have to say. I enjoy and learn from the conversation.
What is the value of a comment to you?
from Kathryn Jennex @northernchick
photo credit: Linda Cronin

Agents Provocateur


Just as I spent hours as a kid glued to the television watching The Wizard of Oz until my mother swore she would give our VCR away to some poor kid in China who didn’t have one, I spent many hours observing the green ladies and flying monkeys of big law firm life. I got to know a lot of different types of folks, and in doing so I made mental notes of everything they had and everything they lacked. I watched the ones who failed and the ones who succeeded — some of them did both — knowing that I wasn’t so fundamentally different from any of them. (After all, they grew up longing for magical shoes too.)
