How to Make Me Leave Your Website

…And never go back

​I understand this is a risky post, because you - fellow peruser of websites - could easily list a dozen things about this website that make you want to take your perusal elsewhere - but I'm going to assume that since you've found yourself this deep into my blogs you either don't hate the layout or content, or you're a family member (Hi, Mum!)

Since you're here, I'm going to vent. Here are the 7 things that make me immediately want to leave your website. If you do these, you may not annoy anyone else in the world, but rest assured, you've pissed me right off.

1. Give me an entire backstory to a recipe

‘But it’s a family recipe!’

Wow! You stumbled across this recipe while hitch-hiking across the mountainous alps on a yak, where you met the eyes of a local stranger who beckoned you into his make-shift tent and you both talked long into the hours in different languages about life, love, the universe and rice? I don't care. 

Wait, what?! You were swimming across a river in India when an exotic bird flew down with a papyrus scroll in his beak and inside was an ancient Mayan recipe for spicy tofu?
​I don't care.

Oh my God! You found this recipe buried beneath a star-shaped cactus in the Gobi Desert along with the lost treasure of the Sierra Madre? I still don't care. 

I came here for the recipe. My toddler is looking for dinner and I can't remember how long I'm supposed to steam broccoli because of the surrounding din of said hungry toddler, and you're going to make me scroll through 5 paragraphs about the emotional journey of this recipe when all I want to know is HOW LONG DO I STEAM BROCCOLI BEFORE IT TURNS TO A FOUL SMELLING MUSH?!

Equally, do not, for the love of God, waste 3 precious minutes of my time explaining to me what broccoli is and its benefits. I know what broccoli is. I'm cooking it for dinner. How could I have found this effing recipe at all if I didn't know what effing broccoli was?? I wasn't just entering a series of random letters and hoping to learn something new. 

You know what? When I google the mangled question 'Broccoli how long steam?' I want one thing. The answer. Anything else is just crap I have to wade through. Please don't make me wade through crap. I have enough of that changing nappies.

So what’s the solution then, Smarty-Pants?

​Thanks for the compliment, and the question. I can accept that there are people out there who love to read the backstory of a recipe, where each ingredient came from and the unique emotional journey of each grain of rice. I'm not asking they be deprived of something that interests them. 

But if you just added a 'Jump to Recipe' link right there at the top of the page those of us who don't want all that backstory can get straight to the nuts and bolts of it. And I might think, 'Gee! This is a really interesting recipe, I wonder if it has an equally interesting history?' And then I'll go back and read all about said interesting history. Hasn't happened so far, but it might!

2. Pop ups telling me to subscribe

'But hey it's cool, we like TOTALLY respect your privacy!'

​First off, don't give me that shit about how you care about my privacy. You don't. You don't care about me at all. You've never met me. You want my money, or my data, so you can spend my money or sell my data. 

Secondly, there is nothing more irritating to ANYONE in the history of EVER, than a pop up exploding into your eyeline when you're in the middle of reading an article (or a recipe) or trying to find out how to DIY a leaky tap. It's the equivalent of reading a book in a nice quiet cafe and someone sticking their head in front of it, waving and saying 'LET'S BE FRIENDS!' 

If I like your website, I'll join your mailing list. If I don't, I won't. If I want to follow you on social media, I will. If I don't, I won't. But there's one thing that's guaranteed to make me avoid your mailing list like someone just sneezed on it, and that's a pop up telling me to join your mailing list. If you're this pushy when I'm visiting your house, I can only imagine what you're like when I'm trying to leave.

So what's the solution then, if you're so great?

All right, getting a little defensive now. The solution is to leave me the heck alone unless I want to join your mailing list. Is that too much to ask? And yes I am a lot of fun at parties, I'm the first one to suggest charades.

3. Beg me not to leave

'But you just got here!'

Imagine stopping into a restaurant. It seems like a nice enough place, good atmosphere, gentle music, menu seems all right. You think you might pop in again later, you just have to meet some friends for a drink first. You turn to walk outside when the maitre-d falls on his knees Platoon style and screams at you from across the room; 'PLEASE DON'T LEAVE!'

You'd be out of that joint quicker than a bullet and you would never, ever go back. If I try to leave a website and you block my exit with a pop up that says 'Wait! Don't leave yet! We have lots to show you...' I'm hotfooting out of your creepy domain like it's suddenly transformed into the Overlook Hotel. And I won't be checking in again. 

It's weird, it's needy, it's clingy. Just stop it. I want to leave and dammit, I will.

So what's the solution then, since you know everything?

Definitely sensing a tone now.
Let me leave. Maybe your site just isn't what I'm looking for, maybe I stumbled upon it by mistake. Don't make me leave twice, and definitely don't beg me to stay. It's just creepy

4. Moving images, so many moving images

Aaaaaaannnnddd….I’m going to be sick

Maybe it's just me, but I cannot concentrate on anything if there's a moving image nearby. It's like trying to have a conversation with someone while another person is break-dancing just behind them. I don't want to watch the break dancing, at least not right now, but it's constant and it's moving and I can't see anything else.

This is nearly always due to advertising. And look, I get it, you give a spot to an advertiser and they will do whatever they can to grab your visitor's attention. And we all need revenue, so I don't blame you for that. But the thing is, for me at least, it has the exact opposite effect. I will scroll down the page so the video is hidden, or I'll sometimes cover it with one hand (if it's one of those 'moves down the page with you' ads). I'll do everything I can to avoid looking at it, and the only guarantee is that I most definitely will avoid it. But I grew up in a house where we muted the ads during TV shows, so maybe that's just me?

So what's the solution then, O wise one?

I don't have one. This is a peril of the internet. Sites need money, advertisers give them money. But if you have any control over the videos on your site, maybe cool them a little for those of us who actually, genuinely, came here for your content and not to have their eyes pulled in six different directions.

5. Put. Every. Single. Thing. On. A. Separate. Page.

‘OMFG I just want to know who you guys voted as No.1 underrated superhero sidekick'.’

I don't mean separating your info into categorised pages. That's just cleaning house. I mean, for example, getting my attention with an article called 'The 50 Greatest Easter Eggs in film history' and then putting all 50 of them on separate pages, delaying my time and depleting my patience with a fresh pop up, advertisement and load time every time I click. And if that isn't bad enough, sticking in a 'fake' page that is actually just an eye twirley ad. The real icing on the cake is that these sites usually have zero quality content, and just repeat the same crap over and over, or expand on their title. For example:

27: The Secret Ghost in Three Men and a Baby is actually a Ted Danson cardboard cutout!

People were TOTALLY freaked out when they were sure they'd spotted the ghost of a boy in the background of Three Men and a Baby, only to find out it was actually just a life sized cut-out of Ted Danson!

Well, thank God I read the whole article, instead of just the title, or I'd have really missed some crucial information.

So what's the solution then, as if you even have one?

You're harvesting clicks, you greedy little click grabber. The solution is to stop being a greedy little click grabber.

6. Clickbaiting me with fake articles.

Above: A cat

What the hell? I clicked on an article entitled 'Ever wondered what happened to Brendan Fraser?' I wanted to find out what happened to Brendan Fraser because, now that you mention it, I haven't seen him in awhile.

Now, as it happens, Brendan Fraser is currently wowing critics and award academies with his performance in The Whale. But you won't find that if you succumb to the bait and click on this article. You'll be taken to some strange land with vaguely related articles, like 'Brendan Fraser looks so different now' (I don't care how he looks), or completely unrelated articles like 'Check out these sexy naked bods!' What? Surely there are enough pornography seekers on the internet without having to trick innocent Brendan Fraser fans into watching it.

So what's the solution then, you self-satisfied sermoniser?

Just put the article you promised me at the other end of that click. What's so hard about that? If I bought a brand new bottle of shampoo in the pharmacy only to find it was filled with Taco Sauce, I'd be pretty peeved, no matter how delicious I smelled. 

7. Make me read a lot of bilge before I get to the relevant stuff

'To find the info that you seek, answer me these questions three...'

I know what you're doing, you miserable shit. You're making me stay on your website for longer than I want/need because it'll boost your traffic and help with advertisers. You have no content at all and you're just padding it out. You make me sick.

I grew up in the age of the internet, so when I want to know something, I'll google it. Which is exactly what I did when I had a very simple technical question about formatting that should have popped right up. But instead I had to scroll through six, yes, SIX goddamn paragraphs explaining to me what the site was (I was literally using this site), what it's used for, why that's great and also, hey, isn't the internet awesome and stuff. And only then did I find a vague piece of information about formatting.

If you do this, if this is you, I hate you. I absolutely hate you. I hate, loathe, detest and abhor you, you rotting pile of stinking fish meat.

So what's the solution then, if you can still hear me from up on your high horse?

Burn in hell, that's the solution.