In writing about Cheff Salad, I made a comment that got me thinking: My traffic drops on days when I don't update. It comes as no surprise, but it is something that strikes me.
I am a creator. Thus, I have an obligation to create. This is especially true since there are people who want my creations.
If you need motivation to write, self-respect should be high up on the list. Set up a deadline, even if it is just once a week, and write something. Put it in a blog to keep yourself honest. Every day you miss a deadline, you should feel bad for not having written something.
If that doesn't work, then think about your readers. People are expecting your next update. Even if you don't think your work is all that great, other people do. When you miss your update, you let them down.
Don't let down your adoring fan base. They're the ones who will do more for you than anyone else. And all you have to do is write stuff for them. And writing is what you want to do already.
P.S. This post was totally written tonight instead of tomorrow because I didn't want to let you down.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
Is Your Voice Your Soul?
From a conversation with a fellow writing major:
I am thinking back on all of my cortland college contemporaries.
Liz was fierce and biting to the world, a facade to hold her up while she crumbled on the inside.
Pat was outwardly resentful and destructive, disgusted at the realization of what the world around him was.
You were wistful, yet adventurous, a free spirit waiting to take off.
And in those voices of writing, I saw your souls.
Or what felt to be them.
For all I know, they were all facades, fictional voices meant to entertain a reader.
But still, it is how I remember you all.
A writer's "voice" is the most powerful facet of their being. Your voice affects every single thing you will ever write, as will it affect the perception of your readers. The irony is that your voice is something that naturally emanates from you. It's something that will always be uniquely you, no matter how you change the way you write.
It seems, then, that your voice is your soul. What better way to describe the soul than with the sentences in the above paragraph? But I'm not sure if I agree. As I told my friend, I do not know if the voices I heard were true reflections of the inner authors, or masks put on to make a good show.
Although I can recognize my voice, I cannot separate myself from it, so I don't know what it shows about me, which means I cannot analyze myself to try to figure it out. Science is made difficult here.
I will leave this as a question posed to you. Is your voice your soul?
I am thinking back on all of my cortland college contemporaries.
Liz was fierce and biting to the world, a facade to hold her up while she crumbled on the inside.
Pat was outwardly resentful and destructive, disgusted at the realization of what the world around him was.
You were wistful, yet adventurous, a free spirit waiting to take off.
And in those voices of writing, I saw your souls.
Or what felt to be them.
For all I know, they were all facades, fictional voices meant to entertain a reader.
But still, it is how I remember you all.
A writer's "voice" is the most powerful facet of their being. Your voice affects every single thing you will ever write, as will it affect the perception of your readers. The irony is that your voice is something that naturally emanates from you. It's something that will always be uniquely you, no matter how you change the way you write.
It seems, then, that your voice is your soul. What better way to describe the soul than with the sentences in the above paragraph? But I'm not sure if I agree. As I told my friend, I do not know if the voices I heard were true reflections of the inner authors, or masks put on to make a good show.
Although I can recognize my voice, I cannot separate myself from it, so I don't know what it shows about me, which means I cannot analyze myself to try to figure it out. Science is made difficult here.
I will leave this as a question posed to you. Is your voice your soul?
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Labor Yields Fruits
I wanted to follow up on yesterday's post with an example: me. Or rather, Cheff Salad. I still consider this a personal blog. I do not advertise it, save for a few posts on Facebook, and I don't run it to make money. I continue this blog to continue writing. I do envision every post as a lecture or pep talk to fellow writers and aspiring writers, but I also still see it as a book in a library that never gets pulled from the shelf (mostly because the library is filled with way more amazing books). But that's not entirely true.
I periodically take a look at Cheff Salad's stats, things like traffic flow and page views. The first months of the blog had zero (0) [that's a zero in parentheses]. That means no traffic, no visitors, no anything. Eventually that did pick up. I started averaging about 2 hits per month. I can guarantee they were the two times per month that I linked one of my friends to a specific post I had written that was relevant to a conversation at hand.
Time continued and so did I. I had a few followers of my blog, including such notable titles as "a couple of my friends" and "my mom". My traffic also increased from 2 per month to 2 per day. That's 30 times the traffic flow. That's 3000% of what it was.
As time continued to continue, and I managed to keep up with it, more interesting things happened. I noticed that I had even more followers. I had more followers than I had friends I kept in touch with. I had people following my blog who I didn't even know. My traffic also increased from 2 a day to 20 a day (at least on days that I update).
In the mean time, I have treated my blog no different now than when I started. One post a day about writing. Figure out the nuances on my own. If I miss a day, do two on the next day to make up for it. I still don't advertise aside from the occasional link on Facebook and in conversations where it's relevant.
I know that 20 hits a day is like a grain of sand on the beach in terms of the internet. That's not the point. The point is that when you put effort into something, you will be rewarded for it. I do not have a massive traffic flow, but I have not put my effort into that. I have put my effort into writing. This is a testament to the claim that making a good product and making it available are all you need to start.
It can be a great difficulty, but actually keep it up. Labor yields fruit. If you can put in 2 years of effort and still see no difference than where you were at day 1, you can give up. But until then, get crackin'.
I periodically take a look at Cheff Salad's stats, things like traffic flow and page views. The first months of the blog had zero (0) [that's a zero in parentheses]. That means no traffic, no visitors, no anything. Eventually that did pick up. I started averaging about 2 hits per month. I can guarantee they were the two times per month that I linked one of my friends to a specific post I had written that was relevant to a conversation at hand.
Time continued and so did I. I had a few followers of my blog, including such notable titles as "a couple of my friends" and "my mom". My traffic also increased from 2 per month to 2 per day. That's 30 times the traffic flow. That's 3000% of what it was.
As time continued to continue, and I managed to keep up with it, more interesting things happened. I noticed that I had even more followers. I had more followers than I had friends I kept in touch with. I had people following my blog who I didn't even know. My traffic also increased from 2 a day to 20 a day (at least on days that I update).
In the mean time, I have treated my blog no different now than when I started. One post a day about writing. Figure out the nuances on my own. If I miss a day, do two on the next day to make up for it. I still don't advertise aside from the occasional link on Facebook and in conversations where it's relevant.
I know that 20 hits a day is like a grain of sand on the beach in terms of the internet. That's not the point. The point is that when you put effort into something, you will be rewarded for it. I do not have a massive traffic flow, but I have not put my effort into that. I have put my effort into writing. This is a testament to the claim that making a good product and making it available are all you need to start.
It can be a great difficulty, but actually keep it up. Labor yields fruit. If you can put in 2 years of effort and still see no difference than where you were at day 1, you can give up. But until then, get crackin'.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Actually Keep It Up
The top advice to writers is to keep on writing. There are countless ways to say it. You're only a writer on days you write. Write a page a day and you will have a novel a year. Write nuggets of wisdom and they will become ingots of brilliance.
Easier said than done. Try actually keeping up with writing. There are plenty of times you don't want to, plenty of times you don't feel the passion, plenty of times you just want to sleep! Pathetic though it sounds, I have lost two or three hours just writing a blog post on more than one occasion, and they were hours that, had I been sleeping, would have made the next day way more pleasant.
But, you know what? I survived all of those 'next days'. I also had written something! Keep it up, people. It pays off.
Easier said than done. Try actually keeping up with writing. There are plenty of times you don't want to, plenty of times you don't feel the passion, plenty of times you just want to sleep! Pathetic though it sounds, I have lost two or three hours just writing a blog post on more than one occasion, and they were hours that, had I been sleeping, would have made the next day way more pleasant.
But, you know what? I survived all of those 'next days'. I also had written something! Keep it up, people. It pays off.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Calculated Bad Ideas
We learn far more from our failures than we do from our successes. Failures hit very hard, very deeply, and the impacts made last for a very long time. Failures are by no means pleasant, but they are a cost to pay for your future gains. They give you experiences to draw from forever.
Our failures largely come from bad ideas. Going out and partying when you know you have to wake up early the next day is a bad idea. Starting a fight with somebody who can beat you is a bad idea. Putting off your assignments until the last minute is a bad idea.
I don't recommend following through on bad ideas just for the sake of a learning experience, but without them, I can't help but feel that one would be missing out to some degree. So, what if you carefully planned doing something stupid? What if you tried a calculated bad idea?
Go out partying, but come back at midnight instead of 4 AM. Start a fight with somebody, but be willing to throw in the towel (note: this works way better with word fights than fist fights). Put off your assignments, but always know exactly how much time you need to complete them so that you are never past the deadline.
In a calculated bad idea, you still get the adrenaline rush or the stress relief that bad ideas give you, but you still stay within the realm of safety. You get as close to that line of danger as you feel comfortable, and you still feel excited from having done it. And the closer you get to that line, the more you learn just how much you don't actually want to cross it.
Learning lessons the hard way sucks. Learning lessons from calculated bad ideas is a pretty decent alternative.
Our failures largely come from bad ideas. Going out and partying when you know you have to wake up early the next day is a bad idea. Starting a fight with somebody who can beat you is a bad idea. Putting off your assignments until the last minute is a bad idea.
I don't recommend following through on bad ideas just for the sake of a learning experience, but without them, I can't help but feel that one would be missing out to some degree. So, what if you carefully planned doing something stupid? What if you tried a calculated bad idea?
Go out partying, but come back at midnight instead of 4 AM. Start a fight with somebody, but be willing to throw in the towel (note: this works way better with word fights than fist fights). Put off your assignments, but always know exactly how much time you need to complete them so that you are never past the deadline.
In a calculated bad idea, you still get the adrenaline rush or the stress relief that bad ideas give you, but you still stay within the realm of safety. You get as close to that line of danger as you feel comfortable, and you still feel excited from having done it. And the closer you get to that line, the more you learn just how much you don't actually want to cross it.
Learning lessons the hard way sucks. Learning lessons from calculated bad ideas is a pretty decent alternative.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Classical Hoedowns
I always find it odd when people make classical music versions of folk songs. They are a complete conflict of culture. Folk music, like American hoedowns, are designed to create energy. People are meant to get up and dance around, sing and shout, have a good time all around. Classical music is meant to be listened to in absolute silence until the very end, at which point we may clap our hands.
That said, I have nothing against orchestral variations of folk music itself. It is the culture clash I take issue with. If you are going to do music that invigorates people, then you should encourage them to make use of that energy you inspire. You should make an entire concert that does that instead of playing one song that is and a dozen pieces that are not.
In general terms, all adaptations should still fit the source material. For example, if you were to make a modern-day or science fiction version of The Diary of Anne Frank, it is still a tragic and depressing story. If you ever tried to spin it into a comedy, it would either be a thorough bastardization of the story (like a Disney ending) or it would be the most dark, twisted, black comedy imaginable.
If you are told that somebody is playing a hoedown, you should be expected to dance. If you are going to see The Diary of Anne Frank, you should expect to cry. Adaptation is fine and dandy, but it has to be true to the source material, both in relevance and in spirit.
That said, I have nothing against orchestral variations of folk music itself. It is the culture clash I take issue with. If you are going to do music that invigorates people, then you should encourage them to make use of that energy you inspire. You should make an entire concert that does that instead of playing one song that is and a dozen pieces that are not.
In general terms, all adaptations should still fit the source material. For example, if you were to make a modern-day or science fiction version of The Diary of Anne Frank, it is still a tragic and depressing story. If you ever tried to spin it into a comedy, it would either be a thorough bastardization of the story (like a Disney ending) or it would be the most dark, twisted, black comedy imaginable.
If you are told that somebody is playing a hoedown, you should be expected to dance. If you are going to see The Diary of Anne Frank, you should expect to cry. Adaptation is fine and dandy, but it has to be true to the source material, both in relevance and in spirit.
Answer-Men
My boss asked if I agreed with a point he made earlier that day. As I was collecting my thoughts, he tells me that he wanted my actual opinion. "I don't want to be surrounded by yes-men."
Another employee was walking by at the last comment and sprang in with a jocular 'no'. My boss replied with, "I don't want any no-men either. I want answer-men."
I liked that. We should surround ourselves with people who have answers. People who only have problems, or people who give thoughtless responses are useless burdens.
As writers, we should be doing the same thing. Have people who can give you answers to your problems. That's what a good reader or editor will do for you. They can do more than just tell you that they don't like it. They can tell you why something doesn't work, how it is falling short, and most importantly, what you can try in order to fix it.
It is not always easy to find such people, though you should look for them. They are worth the time and effort spent to find them.
If you are not so fortunate though, then you do still have one more option: Be your own answer-man. I know it's easier said than done, but it is still doable. If you can tell when something isn't right, you can use your own resources to figure out how to fix it. And if you can't tell when something isn't right, then you can still make use of a reader who can point them out to you, even if they can't fix it.
Another employee was walking by at the last comment and sprang in with a jocular 'no'. My boss replied with, "I don't want any no-men either. I want answer-men."
I liked that. We should surround ourselves with people who have answers. People who only have problems, or people who give thoughtless responses are useless burdens.
As writers, we should be doing the same thing. Have people who can give you answers to your problems. That's what a good reader or editor will do for you. They can do more than just tell you that they don't like it. They can tell you why something doesn't work, how it is falling short, and most importantly, what you can try in order to fix it.
It is not always easy to find such people, though you should look for them. They are worth the time and effort spent to find them.
If you are not so fortunate though, then you do still have one more option: Be your own answer-man. I know it's easier said than done, but it is still doable. If you can tell when something isn't right, you can use your own resources to figure out how to fix it. And if you can't tell when something isn't right, then you can still make use of a reader who can point them out to you, even if they can't fix it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
