How to Beer Blog

How to Beer Blog Sez Us

We’ve been blogging since 2007 and this post summarises what we’ve learned in that time.

We got the nerve to write it after ask­ing sub­scribers to our email newslet­ter if they thought it was a good idea, and after our online com­mu­ni­ca­tion award from the British Guild of Beer Writ­ers in 2014.

If you’re think­ing of start­ing a beer blog, reviv­ing an old one, or are strug­gling to keep one going, we hope you’ll find it use­ful.

Leaving the Shire.

Starting Out

This is how we’d go about start­ing a beer blog from scratch today.

  1. Lay sol­id foun­da­tions. Write 5–10 good posts on a range of sub­jects in your area of inter­est of 200–800 words each, post­ing at least once a week. Hard­ly any­one will be read­ing them but it doesn’t mat­ter – you’ll be find­ing a voice, get­ting into the groove, learn­ing your blog­ging soft­ware, and prepar­ing for the next stage. (And if you can’t man­age five posts, then maybe blog­ging isn’t for you.) Don’t make your first post ‘So, I’ve decid­ed to start a blog! Let’s hope this goes well!’ Just plunge in with prop­er con­tent.
  1. Get a Twit­ter account and/or Face­book page. Include the term ‘beer blog­ger’ and a link to your blog (lots of peo­ple, odd­ly, don’t do this) in your bio. Then follow/like oth­er beer blog­gers. Hope­ful­ly, they’ll do what we do and check out your link, where they’ll find a month or two’s worth of decent con­tent which sug­gests you’re worth keep­ing an eye on. By all means fol­low the big ones like Pete Brown – he’s always inter­est­ing – but you might get a more imme­di­ate response from oth­ers who are at a sim­i­lar stage in the process to you. Don’t mither peo­ple: ‘I’ve just start­ed a blog – please take a look and Retweet!’

  1. Inter­act. On social media, answer ques­tions, share things you find gen­uine­ly inter­est­ing, and don’t be shy about re-tweet­ing or link­ing to oth­ers’ posts. When we start­ed out, in the days before every­one was on Twit­ter, we made a con­cert­ed effort to join the con­ver­sa­tion by com­ment­ing on oth­er blogs. That can still be a good way to say hel­lo but it’s impor­tant not to com­ment unless you’ve real­ly got some­thing to con­tribute, and don’t act like a doorstep sales­man – avoid link­ing to your blog in your com­ments unless it’s real­ly rel­e­vant, and cer­tain­ly don’t use oth­er people’s com­ment threads just to announce your arrival on the scene. We also took inspi­ra­tion from what oth­ers were writ­ing, shar­ing links to their posts on our blog and writ­ing posts of our own respond­ing to them. (We still do.) Though they’re a bit out of fash­ion, main­tain­ing an active blog roll (a list of links) is anoth­er way of mak­ing con­nec­tions with writ­ers you find inter­est­ing.
  1. In sum­ma­ry, be gen­uine, gen­er­ous and patient. If your only aim is to big your­self up and gain atten­tion it will be obvi­ous and unap­peal­ing. If, on the oth­er hand, you do your best to real­ly be a good cit­i­zen in the blo­goshire, kar­ma (sor­ry again) will even­tu­al­ly come your way.
'Record taxonomy at Rainy Day Records' by Mark Allen from Flickr under Creative Commons.
Adapt­ed from ‘Record tax­on­o­my at Rainy Day Records’ by Mark Allen from Flickr under Cre­ative Com­mons.

Finding a Niche

If your blog is pri­mar­i­ly a diary for your own ben­e­fit, that takes a lot of pres­sure off: if oth­ers read it, great, but if they don’t, that’s fine too. If you are in search of an audi­ence – and be hon­est with your­self here – then you need to find an angle that sets you apart from all the oth­er straight-up beer and pub review blogs. It might seem bor­ing to you, but your town and local brew­eries are prob­a­bly mys­te­ri­ous and inter­est­ing to every­one else, so con­sid­er mak­ing that your beat, rather than, say, the well-trod­den Bermond­sey Beer Mile.

There is also room to stand out styl­is­ti­cal­ly. If you’re a par­tic­u­lar­ly tal­ent­ed writer you could try writ­ing in char­ac­ter. You might use poet­ry, pho­tog­ra­phy or art to get your point across. Com­ic strips can work, too.

If your endgame is a book con­tract… well, every­one would like to know the secret to this, wouldn’t they? Our top sug­ges­tion, as in mat­ters of the heart, would be don’t try too hard. A suc­cess­ful long-run­ning blog can act as a call­ing card to pub­lish­ers, estab­lish­ing a tone of voice and a fol­low­ing, but it’s also impor­tant thing is to have a strong new idea. Drink­ing a dif­fer­ent beer every day for a year has been done mul­ti­ple times, Derek Dellinger spent a year eat­ing only fer­ment­ed foods, and there are already plen­ty of gener­ic lists and beginner’s guides writ­ten by peo­ple with indus­try con­nec­tions and years of expe­ri­ence. If you get frus­trat­ed when, after six posts, you haven’t been cold-called by a pub­lish­er, then blog­ging may not be the solu­tion you are look­ing for: blog because you want to blog.

We some­times describe our approach these days as attempt­ing to con­tribute to the sum of human knowl­edge – shar­ing infor­ma­tion that some­one, some­where will one day find use­ful when they stum­ble across it in a Google search, or that will prompt a con­ver­sa­tion. This hon­est­ly doesn’t have to be hard work – it might just mean spend­ing an hour at the library (on the way to the pub, of course). Most UK coun­ties have pub­licly acces­si­ble her­itage cen­tres packed with local his­to­ry books and box­es of old papers, and with access to local news­pa­per archives – they, or your town’s cen­tral library, are a good place to start. Alter­na­tive­ly, it could just be a mat­ter of ask­ing a ques­tion beyond the obvi­ous one and then mak­ing a bit of effort to dig out the answer by, for exam­ple, email­ing a brew­er.

If you’re writ­ing about home-brew­ing, unless it’s a diary for your own ben­e­fit, you might want to think about what you are offer­ing that can’t be found in books from estab­lished authors. We enjoy read­ing inspir­ing and/or wacky orig­i­nal recipes, or accounts of painstak­ing exper­i­men­ta­tion. Prac­ti­cal advice for peo­ple in your part of the world, or in cir­cum­stances sim­i­lar to yours – ‘How to Brew in a Win­dow­less Twelfth Floor Flat’, for exam­ple, or ‘Mak­ing Gluten Free Beers at Home’ – might also find an audi­ence.

Scrooge McDuck.

An aside: Money & Perks

A while ago, an acquain­tance told us he was plan­ning to spend a redun­dan­cy cheque on set­ting up a new busi­ness – ‘A cof­fee shop, maybe, or per­haps a lit­tle real ale blog.’ How we laughed! Do not start a beer blog expect­ing to make mon­ey, or even with the expec­ta­tion of receiv­ing tons of free beer.

In fact, in our expe­ri­ence, blog­ging costs a lot more than you’ll ever make from it in terms of hard cash. This year, with eight years’ expe­ri­ence, for the first time, we man­aged to pay for the cost of host­ing the blog with what we have earned indi­rect­ly from it, i.e. by writ­ing arti­cles.

Over the years, we’ve seen a few peo­ple launch blogs, bla­tant­ly scrounge free­bies, and dis­ap­pear, because no-one was inter­est­ed in read­ing what they had to say. It’s just not cool.

Coming up with content: writing lists in a notebook.

Coming up With Content

Before you write any­thing, it’s prob­a­bly a good idea to read what’s already out there. When we start­ed our blog, there weren’t too many oth­ers in the UK, but we devoured all of Stonch’s ear­ly work, along with a few oth­ers, which helped us get a han­dle on which top­ics were already well-worn. Announc­ing with a flour­ish some­thing that’s already been said a hun­dred times is one quick way to make your­self look daft. (We’ve done it…) That’s not to say you shouldn’t write about sub­jects oth­ers have already cov­ered if you think you’ve got some­thing new to say, or a new way to say it, or just want to get some­thing off your chest.

We try always to car­ry a notepad with us, or at least a note-tak­ing app on a smart­phone, because we nev­er know when an idea for a post will occur to us – that is, some­thing we want to say. If we don’t write them down, we for­get them. Try to take notes on every beer you have and every pub you vis­it, even if it’s only a cou­ple of words. Some­times, we sit on notes like that for months, and then, sud­den­ly, find that they’re just what we need to fin­ish a post with which we’re strug­gling.

The crit­i­cal voice in your head can be help­ful, but it can also hold you back. It’s easy to talk your­self out of post­ing some­thing because you think it’s incon­se­quen­tial but some of our most pop­u­lar posts have been things that we’ve thrown out there after five min­utes work. (And, of course, things we’ve laboured over have been met with com­plete indif­fer­ence.) A 100-word post mak­ing a sin­gle point is fine, and that point doesn’t have to be pro­found. Remem­ber, it’s just a blog post, not a doc­tor­al the­sis: you win some, you lose some, and if a post doesn’t work, it’s not the end of the world.

If you’re writ­ing a beer review or an account of a pub trip, of which there are many already, and both of which can be a bit dull in their own right, use it to sup­port a more gen­er­al obser­va­tion or at least reach some kind of con­clu­sion: the beer tastes like this which tells us this about what’s going on in the beer scene today. (For exam­ples of this tech­nique in action see The Beer Nut.)

It can also be help­ful to have have a project. Work­ing on a series of inter-con­nect­ed posts which tell a sto­ry can be high­ly moti­vat­ing. It can give you the nudge you need to try a new beer or pub, or even force you out of the house when you might oth­er­wise not both­er. A good exam­ple is Will Ranner’s Tav­erns in Town series in which he aims to vis­it 48 Lon­don pubs rec­om­mend­ed in a 1973 pub guide.

SIGN: 'Beware: Dangerous Cliffs and Paths.'

Bumps in the Road

Once peo­ple start to read your blog, you might well encounter trolls, bul­lies and grumps. We’ve been sad to hear from a cou­ple of blog­gers that they stopped writ­ing because peo­ple were just down­right rude to them. Remem­ber, you don’t have to enable com­ments, espe­cial­ly nowa­days when so much con­ver­sa­tion actu­al­ly occurs on Twit­ter; and also remem­ber that it’s your blog and your rules so you can insist on a cer­tain style or stan­dard of con­ver­sa­tion, delete any com­ments you don’t like, and ban any­one you want. Don’t let any­one’s ‘free speech’ whin­ing ruin your fun.

Some­times, crit­i­cism is fair: we all make mis­takes. We try to avoid claim­ing author­i­ty unless we’ve real­ly done our home­work and can point to evi­dence for what we’re say­ing, and, in the ear­ly days, tried to make clear that we were stu­dents in the process of learn­ing. If some­one catch­es us out with a bona fide error, rather than a mat­ter of opin­ion, after kick­ing the wastepa­per bas­ket, we tend to say, ‘Thanks for let­ting us know,’ and cor­rect it as best we can.

But, yes, do your home­work, espe­cial­ly on beer his­to­ry and beer styles, and choose your teach­ers wise­ly – porter was­n’t named after rail­way sta­tion work­ers, IPA was­n’t brewed espe­cial­ly strong to sur­vive the jour­ney to India, and mild isn’t called mild because it’s weak and low in hops. Mar­tyn Cor­nel­l’s Amber, Gold & Black is essen­tial read­ing but, as a bare min­i­mum, look at the ‘False Ale Quotes’ pages on his blog (linked at the top), and spend an hour or two brows­ing Ron Pat­tin­son’s archives.

If you have a dry patch – noth­ing to say, or dif­fi­cul­ty in get­ting what you want to say down in writ­ing – don’t pan­ic and quit, and don’t apol­o­gise. Blog posts about how you haven’t post­ed in a while are (a) bor­ing and (b) har­bin­gers of the immi­nent death of a blog. We’ve pre­vi­ous­ly writ­ten some advice on how to re-ignite your enthu­si­asm but, to sum­marise:

  • Take a break – set a fixed peri­od of, say, a month, and write noth­ing.
  • Get fresh input – read new books and blogs, per­haps about things oth­er than beer, like food, music, film, or even true crime.
  • Start a project. (See ‘Com­ing up with Con­tent’ above.)

You could also con­sid­er get­ting a writ­ing part­ner or two. The fact that there are two of us is what got us through our 2010 rough patch. We pick up most of each other’s mis­takes before they go live, and can tell each oth­er frankly, ‘That bit’s bor­ing, and that’s bit’s too harsh.’ Even if you don’t write a blog togeth­er, it can be help­ful to have a cou­ple of blog­ger pals you can run ideas by, gos­sip with, or call on for reas­sur­ance.

Writing Good

Charles Dickens.Blogs that are well-writ­ten, with cor­rect spelling, punc­tu­a­tion and gram­mar, are eas­i­er and more pleas­ant to read, so we would sug­gest that you spend time proof­read­ing (read­ing things out loud is real­ly help­ful) and per­haps even con­sult a style guide to decide, for exam­ple, whether to write ‘an hero­ic’ or ‘a hero­ic’.

Struc­ture is impor­tant, too. Peo­ple have short atten­tion spans so, as a rule of thumb:

  • Start with a head­line that tells them why they should care.
  • Use the first para­graph to sum­marise what’s about to fol­low.
  • Then tell the sto­ry with­out digres­sion or rep­e­ti­tion.

You can make your writ­ing seem more pro­fes­sion­al, or less jar­ring­ly unpro­fes­sion­al, by avoid­ing clich­es and rep­e­ti­tion of par­tic­u­lar words or phras­es with­in the same sen­tence or para­graph. Half the fun of writ­ing tast­ing notes is find­ing new ways to say ‘tastes like beer’ or ‘smells like elder­flower’ but don’t wor­ry about repeat­ing fun­da­men­tal tast­ing terms like hop­py and malty if that’s what makes sense to you. Read­ing arti­cles by great jour­nal­ists and writ­ers and attempt­ing to pas­tiche their styles can be a good way to pin down your own voice.

Hav­ing said all of that, if the infor­ma­tion you’re shar­ing is inter­est­ing, and your per­son­al­i­ty shines through, a lot can be for­giv­en. You’re not charg­ing for it, after all, and fear of get­ting the niceties wrong or annoy­ing snobs, or inverse snobs, shouldn’t pre­vent peo­ple express­ing them­selves. And, any­way, the more you write, the bet­ter you get.

Keg fonts, London pub.


We’re no experts but here’s what we’ve learned.

  • A post with­out at least one pic­ture will prob­a­bly get ignored – you don’t have to be David Bai­ley, but some­thing is bet­ter than noth­ing.
  • Being self-con­scious leads to snatched and often un-use­able pho­tos: take your time and don’t feel embar­rassed.
  • Learn how your cam­era, or the cam­era on your phone, works, e.g. in terms of expo­sure.
  • Avoid flash in almost every sit­u­a­tion.
  • Learn to use Pho­to­shop, the free alter­na­tive GIMP, or sim­i­lar – a quick adjust­ment of lev­els, con­trast and sat­u­ra­tion can often make a dodgy pic­ture pass­able.
  • If you don’t have a use­able pho­to of your own, take one from Flickr’s Cre­ative Com­mons archive, fol­low­ing the terms of the licence…
  • or from an out-of-copy­right book
  • or doo­dle some­thing…
  • or ask anoth­er blog­ger very nice­ly if you can use one of their pic­tures with a link and cred­it.
  • Pho­to­graph every­thing beer- or pub-relat­ed – you nev­er know when it might come in handy.


Please do start a blog – it’s fun – but don’t expect to become rich or famous off the back of it. Post inter­est­ing, orig­i­nal con­tent on a reg­u­lar basis, and pro­mote the work of oth­ers as much as you pro­mote your own, and you’ll do OK. If you want oth­ers to read what you write, by all means lis­ten to con­struc­tive crit­i­cism, but remem­ber it’s your blog, and your self-expres­sion, and any­one that does­n’t like it can get bent.

Slight­ly updat­ed in places in July 2016 – just a spring clean and a cou­ple of new bul­let points.

* * *


Brew Bri­tan­nia tells the sto­ry of how British beer got its mojo back between 1963 and the present day.

…an exhil­a­rat­ing read…” Roger Protz
“…a stun­ning book…” Craft Beer Chan­nel

Ama­zon UK | Ama­zon US | Black­wells
Water­stones | Apple e‑bookLocal shops
and Ama­zon Kin­dle

21 thoughts on “How to Beer Blog”

  1. Is this, iron­i­cal­ly, one of the rare posts on which it would be social­ly accept­able to leave a “I’ve start­ed a blog” com­ment?

  2. Thanks for the men­tion guys. I’ve been rather busy at work since Christ­mas (stu­pid­ly busy), so have had to devote spare time to the fam­i­ly rather than the blog.

    This post and sage advice gives me a kick up the arse for when things set­tle down a bit.

    Agree whole­heart­ed­ly that more peo­ple should write about this stuff. If noth­ing else, it’s cathar­tic (not to men­tion enjoy­able vis­it­ing pubs!)

  3. I start­ed off doing reviews of old beer as, prompt­ed by mem­o­ries of Neil Innes Greene King ads and Greenall Whit­ley Land. Of course, I branched out into tak­ing the piss too. Always do what you’re best at (been doing a sim­i­lar schtick on oth­er things for over 20 years). I have been crit­i­cised for being to harsh in mock­ing CAMRA, crafty hip­sters, brew­eries, and oth­er blog­gers. But I like to think I’m fair and treat every­one the same. One read­er said she real­ly enjoyed the News In Brief spoofs. I thought ‘You do know that one day I’m going to take the piss out of you too, don’t you?”. Even­tu­al­ly I did, and she’s ignored me ever since. Oh well.

    Judg­ing by my sta­tis­tics (based on 27000 page views in 2 years, prob­a­bly less than 10% of B&B, Tand, Mudgie etc.), to get peo­ple to read your blog, sim­ply men­tion CAMRA, Brew­Dog and Hops. A lot.

    I nor­mal­ly write posts in the pub over a pint of Evil Keg. The tablet is a won­der­ful inven­tion, though blog­ger is a bit fid­dly to use on Chrome (the blog­ger app does­n’t auto save, which I’ve found to my cost a few times).

    I’ve nev­er got any free­bies as a result of blog­ging. Well, got trade tick­ets to Indy­Man­Beer­Con , but was too tired to go after set­ting up the Xmas dis­play at work.

    I make no claims for adding to the sum of human knowl­edge. Some things are just here to make you laugh.

    1. A bit of tech­ni­cal advice from my PoV: Don’t use BlogSpot. It is crap. I.e. I can nev­er get com­ments to work on Mr Lizards’ blog. Most­ly this is because of broken/limited authen­ti­ca­tion meth­ods. But even more open BlogSpot com­ment forms seem to eat com­ments 50% of the time.

      Which leads into a more seri­ous point: take plat­form & pre­sen­ta­tion seri­ous­ly. Most folk use Word­Press, which works pret­ty well. On top of that be care­ful with your themes. Some make read­ing your con­tent more dif­fi­cult, many total­ly break on mobile plat­forms. Don’t piss fart about with sil­ly fonts either. If in doubt stick to the defaults or very pop­u­lar themes. Peo­ple will read what you write for the sake of the con­tent, not the sup­posed pret­ti­ness of the page it is on.

      1. We’ve always been very hap­py with Word­Press and tend to stick to the default theme with the odd tweak as and when we realise we need it. (I.e. not includ­ing an author name on each post so we can both just use one account and keep it logged in.)

  4. Good stuff. I would add that:

    (1) one may want to avoid using “blog” in too many vari­a­tion. The blog is the total of a num­ber of posts. Pret­ty sure I can­not blog even though I have one. It is health­i­er to think of one­self as (i) a writer as well as (ii) a pub­lish­er of a web mag­a­zine which may include any num­ber of forms of expres­sion. Dif­fer­ent things each of which is inter­est­ing.

    (2) don’t be like oth­ers. Write as you think. Avoid con­cern­ing your­self with the unknown read­ers’ needs. Peo­ple may then come along who have an actu­al inter­est in what you think.

    (3) write and post pho­tos and cre­ate graphs or maps as you please only as often as you please. Meet­ing a dead­line that does not exist is a sure fire way to look like you are just meet­ing a dead­line.

    (4) if you are start­ing out now, you are too late. There is lit­tle room left. Unless you are start­ing a blog for the plea­sure of per­son­al expres­sion be pre­pared for the fact there are 10,000 oth­ers already not being paid any atten­tion.

    1. You’re more pes­simistic than us, Alan – there’s still room for more blog­gers, espe­cial­ly in the UK where, e.g., no-one has yet emerged as the voice of the bur­geon­ing Birm­ing­ham scene. Some of our favourites have only emerged in the last year or two.

      1. I sup­pose if to inter­ci­ty train trav­el­ling pub hob­by­ists zip­ping from scene to scene Birm­ing­hams lack of a voice might mat­ter. But there are 500(0) Birm­ing­hams in the Eng­lish speak­ing world and only so much room for @SouthBirminghamBeerNut(2015) in the dis­course.

        1. We’d like to hear what’s going on there from some­one who lives in the city and it’s got a long his­to­ry of brew­ing which isn’t much writ­ten about. Great his­toric pubs also, but Lon­don pubs get a lot more atten­tion. I’m not sure, any­way, that the only worth­while blogs are those con­tribut­ing to The Impor­tant Glob­al Dis­course, as long as the authors enjoy writ­ing them, and (self­ish­ly) as long as the occa­sion­al post enter­tains or inter­ests us.

          1. Not dis­agree­ing but giv­en the 500(0) of such loca­tions I know I can sim­ply nev­er get to that per­son­’s voice unless they ele­vate from the par­tic­u­lar to the gen­er­al. They may form a local hub but reach is unlike­ly. That’s all I mean. There are 25,000 good pubs I would love to live near that I will nev­er expe­ri­ence. That is a top­ic bet­ter suit­ed for an indexed list­ing like a Beer Advo­cate forum is the trans­mis­sion of the data as opposed to the recog­ni­tion of the writer is most impor­tant.

  5. This is great stuff, real­ly help­ful. After a few false starts, I’ve recent­ly start­ed beer blog­ging, main­ly as an exer­cise for myself to improve my writ­ing (I’m a jour­nal­ist turned soft­ware devel­op­er, and I’ve let the writ­ing slip quite a bit), but also because I do occa­sion­al­ly get ideas for blog posts in my head, but no real out­let to make the ideas a real­i­ty.

    So far, I’m real­ly enjoy­ing it, it’s real­ly lib­er­at­ing to write about some­thing not con­nect­ed to work, and already I can feel my writ­ing ‘flow­ing’ a lot bet­ter.

  6. 1. Write because you want to write.
    2. By blog­ging, you’re join­ing a con­ver­sa­tion with oth­er blog­gers. Take that seri­ous­ly. Here’s a whole lot of peo­ple who are hav­ing sim­i­lar expe­ri­ences and spec­u­lat­ing about sim­i­lar things; take an inter­est in what they’re say­ing and treat them with a mod­icum of respect. Don’t rein­vent the wheel, don’t claim author­i­ty you haven’t got, but do post in response to oth­er peo­ple’s posts, and do com­ment on their posts.
    3. Don’t get stressed about it. The only rea­son you’re doing it is because you want to (see point 1.); if you don’t want to post any­thing for a week or a month, don’t wor­ry about it. It’ll shine when it shines.
    4. Do take it seri­ous­ly – at least, seri­ous­ly enough to read through every post a cou­ple of times before you hit Pub­lish.

  7. Thanks for the men­tion, B&B, and I’d like to say that Phil’s point (1) just above me is absolute­ly the most impor­tant one. Write your blog because you want to, and for no oth­er rea­son.

    I notice you don’t men­tion “long form” blog­ging, and I’d like to say to any­one con­tem­plat­ing writ­ing reg­u­lar lengthy 4,000-word-plus essays: don’t. This may sound like “do as I say, not as I do” from some­one who has­n’t writ­ten any­thing on his blog below a thou­sand words for years, and fre­quent­ly tops two or three thou­sand, but gen­er­al­ly speak­ing it will be tl/dr.

    I would also empha­sise the need for a great head­line: being on Twit­ter is now essen­tial, and tweet­ing (and Face­book­ing) every post is vital. If your head­line is click­bait, not only will you get your (hope­ful­ly grow­ing in num­ber) fol­low­ers click­ing through, but you’ll get retweets and re-retweets too, which will add to the num­bers who click on the link to your post.

      1. Isn’t that “The One Amaz­ing Fact About Beer Blog­ging That The Big Blog­gers All Know That Will Change Your Life” advice? With respect, Mar­tyn, you get RTs because of what you write in those 5,376 word (ave.) posts about very inter­est­ing things writ­ten in a very inter­est­ing way. Besides, every­one knows you get most fol­low up from gen­tly and slight­ly unsuc­cess­ful­ly con­tra­dict­ing Pete Brown

    1. A great head­line if you can pull it off, yes, but click­bait… nope. Works in the short term if you want sheer vol­umes of traf­fic, i.e. because you’re mak­ing mon­ey off ad impres­sions, but is ulti­mate­ly just annoy­ing.

  8. Rule 1 – don’t be a one-trick pony. You’ll soon get fed up with writ­ing the same old shtick.
    Isn’t that right Cook­ie ?

  9. I don’t have the time to blog at the moment. Work and drink­ing get in the way. Plus there’s lit­tle to be found in the Wirral beer scene. Not that there is one.

  10. I’ll add: A lot of new blog­gers get hung up on writ­ing about beer, and beer only. I think a blog should be a per­son­al space to explore your ideas and per­spec­tives, which means tak­ing detours out­side of the niche when appro­pri­ate. If they’re tan­gen­tial­ly on top­ic, great! But new­bies should­n’t feel con­strained by a sin­gle top­ic.

    The glo­ri­ous thing about being your own con­tent edi­tor that you can write about near­ly any­thing as long as it’s engag­ing and tonal­ly con­sis­tent.

Comments are closed.