Monday, October 24, 2011

A Side Effect of Proving Something To Myself

"You treated me the way you like to be treated when you grieve, and now I'm treating you the way I like to be treated. We prescribe our own medicine for each other."
-Miro, Xenocide by Orson Scott Card

Can we ever know each other as we know ourselves?

I've been writing to this weblog to nearly a year, sharing as much of myself as I can verbalize, and yet, how well do you actually know me? You know of my fears, my spirituality, my concerns, (and if you don't, you can just take a perusal through my tags, listed below to learn all these things) but how much of this is actually knowing me?

It's the difference between responding to an empty frame in a museum and a filled one. Sure, you can have an emotional response to the empty frame, but that's just our self-impression on an empty space, a tabula rosa. What you haven't learned of me is how I interact with others, either face-to-face or voice-to-voice (if you commented a bit more, though, you might). This musings that I post are me responding to my life as I live it, not my life as I interact with others. That sort of thing can only be shared when shared from both perspectives; I have no co-writers here.

For the most part, I don't even know what you, my audience likes to read. I've asked, and you've never said a word. All I can do is make guesses by where I get the most pageviews, and even that is imperfect, since I know from my Google Analytics charts that some people click in just to see what my page looks like, never staying long enough to read much of anything I have to say. Hell, I don't even know if you really care what I have to say. If I stopped posting tomorrow, would you miss seeing my updates in your RSS feed or in your email?

But I won't stop typing, writing, because I feel I have a greater need than to build readership. I write to prove that I have the dedication to be a writer, to discipline myself to write everyday, regardless whether I feel inclined to or not. Sure, I sometimes build up posts in reserve, especially now, since I'm planning on participating in the National Novel Writing Month festivities (which in my mind require far more discipline than posting a blog post every day), so I will be busy filling up pages with those words, fiction stories rather than perspectivist musings.

Building readership is a side-effect, just as increasing my ratings in search engines is. What good does it do me to be high on the search engine if I don't have anything of value, in quality and in volume, to share?

In the words of Jeff Dunham: None what so freaking ever.

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