Marketing is not easy to me. Or rather, figuring out how to market myself. Marketing itself, convincing you that our services are the ones you want, actually fits me snug like a glove. I don't know that's a compliment. I don't like trying to convince people of things if I'm unsure it's what's genuinely best for them.
a thought that gently helps me rephrase my approach to my own marketing efforts.
Oh. There it was. Bin-go.
It probably won't last. Again. But maybe it's less about trying to convince social media to "buy your product" and more that what you've got is worth hearing. Keeping.
I was thinking just now of why Hive is different from other platforms. I always look forward to writing on here, whereas posting promotional content dries my throat up like week-old toast. I do not like it.
So I thought.... why? Why is it so hard for someone like me to put myself out there?
I like expressing myself. I like words and what I do, I genuinely enjoy. But there's a standard difference between Hive and, say, Instagram or Facebook. There, I approach thinking "what sort of cutesy BS can I use today to get more reach?". I wouldn't dare apply the same reasoning to Hive. Here, always, day in and out for almost eight years now (fuck, that's old), I expect more rigorous judgment.
How can I add value? How can I create something of value?
It's content creation at its best, in my opinion, this platform, because it pushes me to really do the work and ask and curate my own quality for something that's actually worth those 3-4 minutes you spend on it.
How many other platforms do that?
Obviously, I judge an image or a video I put up. But from a different perspective. I ask things like...
... is this appealing? Good-looking? Sexy? Are there blemishes on my face? Do I look fat? Does my voice sound stupid or just good enough?
In other words, will this sell?
I doubt it's just me asking, though I'm asking from an actual selling perspective. But on the Internet, aren't we all selling something? Even if I'm posting memes or cutesy reel type things with rehashed content from the biggest shows at the moment, isn't it still a trade? Your attention and validation for my time? It's all a negotiation.
Do you wonder "how can I sell on Hive?"
Genuinely, do you? Do you sit back before publishing a post and think how well will this sell? How much reach will it have? Did I use the right tags?
I never figured out how to use tags properly. I just sort of try and do what everyone else is doing.
So much of the Internet just trains people to become these hyperactive constant content-churners. You must be funny, shiny and special. Every. Single. Day.
It might be why Hive is having a hard time growing. Not to say we aren't growing. But let's face it, you log on here for the first time, and you're met with these vastly different parameters for quality. Suddenly, the question that I, before publishing, am faced with shifts from am I sexy enough or is this tune still trendy today, to
What value does this add to the ecosystem?
I would argue that many of the older and just generally more serious users here still use this as a key calculator of value. Before you vote on something or engage with it, you expect it to be somehow enriching both to you on a personal level, but also more broadly, to your feed. I'm pretty sure most of us, if we were suddenly bombarded in our personal feeds with girls jiggling their bums to the rhythm of some annoying TikTok tune would be quite miffed. Not to mention the downvoting onslaught that would bring.
This isn't a pat-ourselves-on-the-back post, although that's tempting. Rather, it's an open-ended freewrite on our relationship with content. The reason Hive works so far, I think, is that despite all the difficulties we're encountering, we still treat this place as our little back garden. We take care of the things we share. Which isn't true for the rest of the Internet on the same level. Chances are, out there, I might reward someone's trashy content just because a friend did or because I wish I had boobs like hers or something. Here, on the other hand, I completely change my hat before entering.
It's a double-edged sword, though, because while the higher standard preserves this little garden, it also acts as a barrier. We wanna know why new people don't wanna stay on Hive, but forget the steep learning curve.
Or maybe never knew it. I first came here eight years ago. The Internet, I dare say, was vastly different. I don't think there was nearly such a toxic flood of low-grade content out there as there is now. I was also lucky enough to come on here young and quite unaware of Instagram's standards, for instance. But what if I'm coming on Hive after 10 years of being obsessively taught that the only way in which I can be of value is to follow the herd, mimic trends, and obviate every opinion that doesn't fit with my "brand image"?
Steep learning curve, indeed.
Does that mean we ought to lower our standards on HIVE to attract more people? (Is that a pretentious question? I hope not.) No more than you should lower your standards to attract a life mate, I think. Are our expectations of newcomers the equivalent of being 6", athletic, wealthy, great head of hair, well-read, funny, good teeth, vacays in Mallorca, charming, sweet, sexy, drives a Porsche? I don't think so. I reckon we give pretty good, and should expect as good as we give. But it could be that I'm wrong.
We are trying to integrate something very different and unusual into the ordinary canvas. And as any weird, quirky, bright little kid will tell you, that shit ain't easy.
This is just a freewrite-spew mostly. Feel free to add your own.
