I receive emails sometimes, with PR requests and offers and opportunities. Always lots and lots of opportunities. I consider my blog to be PR friendly. I always respond to emails that have a call to action or request. I love to attend events and will do so if I can. And I am genuinely interested in content that would be of use to me. I welcome emails and correspondence and ideas.

But I said PR friendly, not slutty.

Just saying.

You see sometimes its a bit much. I feel like a pawn in a tug a war. My inbox being littered with random announcements for brands I’ve never been associated with. Peppered with offers to do giveaways. And I’m grateful to be acknowledged in this way, really I am. But it feels rather generic. I get that PR’s are just like any of us who have measures to meet and time to do it in. But for me, it’s just a reminder in my inbox over and over again that I’m just not special enough to warrant a one on one email.

Then sometimes I accept an offer and there’s a post or social media coverage. I send off the post link and nothing. It would be nice to get a thank you sometimes. You know? A thumbs up. A thanks for the mention/attending, we appreciate the post. That sort of thing. And I’ll disclaimer that by saying that some do. Some take the time to read the link and I sent and respond. I love those ones. Those ones have my heart. We have an understanding, them and I; I do what I can for them, and they do what they can for me to keep us both bumping along.

This is a first world type problem, a problem that only some bloggers have. I get that. I don’t mean to be a jerk about it. I am genuinely grateful for the opportunities I get that work. OVO in Brisbane, totally worked. I {We! Hubby did too} loved that event and have offered myself freely to the PR in the future trusting her judgement to select stuff that will be of interest to me and therefore, you guys. ECCO’s event was the same thing. Treated really well, great event and something I could report back on without feeling like I was just going through the motions. Which, we all know, I’m just not very good at doing. There are others, oh my yes, sorry to not mention them but these ones were fresh. Recent.

So how do we as bloggers find a balance?

How do we remain available with becoming, errr, TOO available and compromising our blog?

How do we work together to make this work for us all?

Within the blanket pitches I search for the tiny call to action in there somewhere and I pounce. I read the article and either respond with a quick, thank you, keep them coming but not this one or it’s the starting point of a beautiful friendship. And by friendship I mean they offer me what I need and I offer them what they need with varying methods of delivery and compensation.

I love tailored ideas delivered with my blog in mind. I want to be pitched. Wow’ed. Woo’ed. This isn’t always possible, but just once I would love for an email to drop into my inbox that I thought WOW. Yes, that! And maybe it’s a scale thing. My blog is where my blog is. It’s nowhere near the king of the castle. Perhaps those pitches are saved for the top of the tree? If I ever get one, I’ll ask and let you know.

I think bloggers need to remember their manners or as I like to call it, professionalism. {I know, that was a bit too sassy, right?} I never ask for products/samples that I have no intention of reviewing. I don’t attend events I don’t intend to cover. And I don’t misrepresent my blog by fluffing the facts or fudging the stats. I deliver posts on time. I work hard to promote them and will do everything I can to make them a success. That’s my side of the bargain and for all the demands out there by bloggers, it’s important to remember our side of the deal.

Because then you’re not slutty, you’re a tease. Making promises you have no intention on delivering.

And no one likes a tease.

And yes, I totally wrote a post about being a professional blogger using some kind of loose metaphor relating to sexual politics or something. I’m not actually sure how that happened. But it did. And let’s face it. You know where I’m coming from. Own up.