LiveJournal Entry: 1.06.10

January 6, 2010


Hold on. An aside.

So, basically, there’s this neurosis that drives through my brain every few days that forces me to wonder where my adoring fan base is. Why aren’t people paying attention. Why should I be shackled to the bedframe of insecurity and forced into submission, my frantic tears soaking into the cracks between the floorboards, my ego completely withered and now resembling a wasabi pea I found under the seat in my car just the other day. A neurosis that says, “talent is audience, and without audience you have no talent, and so maybe I should create a tumblr account to further cement my fractured attention span.”

When I’m in this stage, I make plans. Just like you do, when you’re in this stage.

And if you say you’ve never reached this stage – the “Oh My God I’m A Hack And Is Everything I’m Doing Even Worth It” stage, where, yes, you understand that life is more than your craft and your kids are great and you’re happy but still wouldn’t it be great to be noticed as some kind of forward thinking whatever whatever – you’re lying.

Sometimes the plans are simple. I should (finally) get around to redesigning the blog. I should (finally) post my 100 songs of the decade list. I should shunt a hobby or two. I should turn my computer off, drink a beer and watch TV.

Sometimes the plans are hard. I should stop worrying about being the driest person on Twitter, because, let’s face it, I’m far over-matched and that dude @fireland has it all wrapped up. I should aspire to be less Merlin Mann, and more Corey Vilhauer. I should aspire to be less ANYONE, and more ME.

I should aspire to be found on my own, instead of screaming into the abyss.

I know, right? What, did you accidentally StumbleUpon some 13-year-old’s LiveJournal page?

That’s the point. See, my next plan is going to be the hardest. It’s called, “Just write, you moron, and leave the woe-is-me bullshit for those cat blogs.”

What makes it hard: I like talking about that stuff. So, you know, bear with me while I turn my attentions to stuff with a little more weight. And thanks for sticking around so far.

Tags: Blogging, Meta, Vilhauer, Writing |

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Merry Christmas, etc.!

December 25, 2009


The Vilhauers

Merry Christmas and all of that stuff!
From all of us at Black Marks on Wood Pulp and Much More Sure.

(Special thanks to Craig for the picture, yo.)

Tags: Meta, Much More Sure, Vilhauer |

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Radio Shack sucks. But sometimes, so do the commenters.

December 18, 2009


Listen. I get it. There are a lot of people who work for Radio Shack that don’t enjoy working for Radio Shack.

But why me?

It’s not like I set out to be a sounding board for the teeming, unsatisfied masses that Radio Shack seems to hire. It’s not like I opened up Wordpress and began piling on in hopes I’d become the center of disgruntled employees, my site the sun to their swirling planets of retail woe.

But, that’s what happened. All because I said, “Radio Shack Sucks.”

I’m not sure many commenters have even read the posts. My situation was solved. It was remedied. I figured everything out and, despite my anger at the time and my fist shaking and yelling and threats of boycott, I still buy my cheap wire and television antennas at Radio Shack. I never called for an army of employees to rise up and slay the monster.

Which makes a bigger point. This was never about the employees. This was customer versus a system. Individual versus corporation. David, Goliath, etc.

Not anymore. Now, it’s a symposium of part-time commissioned hell.

Let’s be honest. It brings a lot of traffic. It’s my most popular post (which goes a long way in proving a search engine’s ability to separate good from bad). But that doesn’t mean I’m thrilled every time Keith from Store 543 in Pasadena or Jules from some suburb of Boston stops by to drop another paragraph of poorly worded angst, like Black Marks on Wood Pulp was the Domesday Book of shitty jobs.

In fact, when Keith or Jules stop by and leave yet another un-punctuated mess in the comments of a post, I realize that to a small subset of people, that post defines what my site is - and, therefore, what my writing style and personality are. All I can do is shake my head. Saddened that this is what I’ve brought upon the Web. After so long, I’m simply too tired to respond.

What’s more, I’m unwilling to delete the comments, because sometimes it’s one of the few real things that people leave behind.

Tags: Meta, Technology, Vilhauer, Writers |

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BMOWP by request

October 30, 2009


I hadn’t written in almost a week. I was busy. And I wasn’t inspired. And life is sooo hard, wah wah wah.

(Blah blah blah, shut up you stupid whiny writer-guy.)

So I opened my big mouth on Twitter. (And, therefore, Facebook.)

“I need seven random ideas. I will be writing a blog post on each one for the week, starting tomorrow. I may or may not stay on topic, though”

And then:

“Not just ideas. Anything. A bowl of soup. Your mom’s middle name. The War of 1812. None of them will end up being about the subject, prob.”

The response: good enough to force me into keeping my word.

I took on the first seven subjects that came to me. It didn’t matter what they were. Then, Friend of BMOWP Abi Jones gave me an additional prompt that I simply couldn’t pass up, so it was bumped up to eight.

This is often called “using your readership for attention.” In my world, it’s called, “opening your big fat mouth and discovering you have to not only write about Hume’s Fork, but also figure out what the hell it is.”

That being said, look for original prompts on the bottom of posts over the next week. I won’t go back on my word. And I won’t stop, despite how stupid I look when talking about neanderthal sex.

Or, maybe I won’t talk about it at all.

Because, seriously - these are prompts. And I’m going to take them and run like hell toward someplace I can comfortably digest.

Welcome to Black Marks on Wood Pulp: By Request.

Tags: BMOWP: By Request, Meta, On..., Writing |

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Gone fishing

September 2, 2009


Very few of us perform our work – or even our hobbies – in a vacuum.

I don’t write, or take pictures, or do whatever it is, simply for my own enjoyment. Though that is the main reason, I also do it because I have pride in the work I do, and because I hope that others will find value in it.

Such is the case with most creative fields. We spent hours at our craft not just to have a finished product we’re proud of, but also to have a finished product that others are proud of.

The problem is that I’ll never accurately know the impact that finished product has. (At least, not without blatantly fishing for compliments.)

Chances are, we all care about our standing on the Web, or at work, or in whatever arena we fill. Yet, there’s no way to effectively gauge our impact – readership, influence, whatever – without making a plea for loyalty. I’ll never know until I can get a roll call, and even then it’s not likely.

It’s a Catch-22. I’d love to know if some of the people I follow – whose stuff I’m inspired by, local or national – follow me back. But I can’t let anyone know about it, because those same people are confident enough not to fish for confirmation.

It sounds pathetic to wander up to people you respect and ask, “DO YOU LIKE ME?” Even more so when you understand that they’re stuck – either answer yes, regardless of feelings, or stay silent in a perceived admission of distaste.

Tags: Career, Meta, Photography, Writing |

2 Comments

A follow up to “innocence”

July 6, 2009


Something amazing happened here over the past week.

A blog post I wrote about attending the funeral of my friend Craig’s daughter – a newborn who passed away at only nine days old – transformed from an introspective study in loss to a holding ground for the family’s memories.

It began slow, but it quickly gained speed. One family member after another lent their thoughts, turning the comments section into a history of grieving. Memories were shared, losses lamented and an air of moving forward crept into the narrative.

More than anything, blogs are designed to be a two-way street. Sure, it’s one thing to write and send it into the ether of the Internet – it’s another to respond, to move ourselves toward community, answering and re-answering each response, commenting on comments and creating a conversation.

Sometimes, however, it’s best to simply let the comments flow, uninterrupted. To lend a little space for a family to mourn, to let loose with their emotions and remember a little girl in whatever way they feel right.

In that way, I feel honored to be a part of it. To serve as the small piece of ether in which their comments are stored. To be the guestbook for a time that none of them want to relive, but that no one will ever forget.

Tags: Blogging, Meta |

1 Comment

Winter Storm Watch

February 26, 2009


Todd Epp at South Dakota Watch (and Kansas Watch, and High Plains Buddhist, and Epp Law Report, et al), who apparently didn’t have enough to do in updating seventeen blogs and three Twitter accounts with the same post, constructed a South Dakota Blogosphere parody of today’s winter storm warning.

Black Marks on Wood Pulp:

The ice encased my car like a Saran Wrap covering a bowl of potato salad. The beauty of it inspires me to renew my hope in the Indiana Pacers making the NBA playoffs.

Har har, Todd. Joke’s on you!

I don’t even LIKE the Pacers anymore! Ha!

Tags: Blogging, Meta |

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