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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The reports of blogging’s death are greatly exaggerated

January 5, 2010


Things that are new are never new for long. Over the years, they become tarnished, rusted, worn away and picked at. Eventually, something new comes along and threatens their safety. It happens with animals. Appliances. Technologies. People.

It happens on the Web too, where concepts can be readjusted, glossed up and cleaned – like a new coat of paint, or a rebuilt engine – but the basics are always the same. The concept is always connected to launch date. The history still snakes back to the beginning.

For good and for bad. Successful entities continue on, changing to meet the needs of the future but staying true to their solid core concept. Unsuccessful ones refuse to change, and therefore fail.

But old doesn’t always mean bad. And new doesn’t always mean good.

Which is why the idea that blogs are quickly becoming obsolete is as laughable as the idea that radio would die after the invention of television. More laughable is the idea that Twitter is going to offer the deathblow when, in fact, Twitter is making blogging stronger.

Because let’s be honest. You started reading blogs because it was a look into someone’s life, whether literally or through the collected knowledge of that person’s field. Static sites featuring conversations adapted and message boards evolved, bringing in a steady flow of content, LiveJournaling their way to today’s WordPress and Blogger dominated landscape.

But they’ve always been the same. They’re one person – or, in some cases, a collective voice - bringing their words freely to the masses.

I’d compare it to the early days of pamphleteering, or printing, or even the underground zine culture, but it’s not even close. Sure, the concept is there. But the delivery is different. The delivery is open. Everyone can use it. EVERYONE CAN BLOG.

But not everyone should.

And that’s where Twitter is effectively weeding out the masses. Those people who spent days posting cat pictures and breakfast menus and baby trivialities no longer need to go through the hassle of writing and formatting and posting and waiting. It’s just one sentence, click, post, repeat.

So the number of abandoned blogs rise. Those too lazy to read a full article are content to write the entire medium off. And those too lazy to write a full post are content to let it die.

I don’t see this as a bad thing.

Now, after the blog boom (when blogging became a badge, simply one of the grandest things in the world to be a part of) people are realizing the error of the undertaking, that keeping up with a blog isn’t as much fun as saying you had a blog.

At the same time, Twitter has pulled the driftwood from the banks of our feed readers (also dying, apparently) and given the stage back to those who are still passionate about posting, about thinking and writing and offering something to the masses that serve as an audience.

The process isn’t complete. It never will be. But when you look at it this way, Twitter isn’t killing blogs.

It’s saving them.

Tags: Blogging, On..., Technology |

2 Comments

Another graphic day at Graphic Content

October 20, 2009


Someone over at Graphic Content - the region’s premiere art and design blog - must have me confused with an actual artist. For the second time this month, something I’ve created has made the cut: this time, some photography from D.C.

Humbling, as always.

For more photos, I implore you to check out the photoblog (Much More Sure) or our Flickr page. And get Graphic Content into your feed reader, if you haven’t already.

Tags: Blogging, Career, Photography, Random Links |

2 Comments

The not-so-imminent death of the novel

September 10, 2009


A lot of people in the humanities and publishing industries spend a lot of time wringing their hands and furrowing their brows over the predicted downfall of scholarship and the decimation of reading.

So it’s nice to read something positive about the digital revolution in humanities, as Kathleen Fitzpatrick (member of the digitally-inclined, NEH-funded MediaCommons for intellectual exchange between scholars, students and the public) offers in the most recent issue of Humanities. She answers questions on blogging as the next step in novelization, the conversation brewing in scholarly circle, and the supposed death of the novel.

From the September/October 2009 issue of Humanities, a publication of the NEH:

The first video MTV aired was the Buggles’ “Video Killed the Radio Star.” Has the television killed the novel?
The death of the novel has been greatly exaggerated. If not, how could we possibly have a project like Infinite Summer, in which hundreds of people are reading Infinite Jest together?

Or will the Internet kill it?
It might change it, but it won’t kill it. In fact, the Internet gives the lie to many of our anxieties about the state of reading right now; so many people are reading and writing so much online that it becomes crystal clear that ‘no one reads anymore’ really means ‘no one reads anything I think is good anymore.’

With all of the emphasis on digital will anyone read an actual book made of paper in twenty years?
Absolutely! The actual book form isn’t dying, any more than radio died when television came along. It’s just that radio developed a particular niche that wasn’t replicated by television. Similarly, books will survive, but the kinds of things we want to read in print versus the kinds of things we want to read digitally will gradually differentiate.

Read more here: “Impertinent Questions with Kathleen Fitzpatrick”.

A dissident voice telling us that the future of the book isn’t all binary code and Kindles. Weird - a breath of fresh (and optimistic) air seems to have just wafted through here.

Tags: Blogging, Books, Literature, Writers, Writing |

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$40,000 is a lot of food

July 9, 2009


I happened to catch part of an episode of Oprah last week. She was talking to Heather Armstrong, star of super-popular mommy blog Dooce, about the difficulties of being a mother. About her surprisingly interesting life. And about how she does what she does, which, essentially, is blogging for a paycheck.

This is what I took away: Heather Armstrong enjoys what she does. The freedoms and the stresses of constantly documenting life.

Oh, and she makes $40,000 a month through her blog. A month.

My question: Why can’t I make money doing this?

The answer: Stubbornness.

In terms of influence, the two sites can’t be compared equally. After all, Dooce and Black Marks on Wood Pulp are two completely different animals. Dooce has been propped up by 8 years of loyalty, bumped first by a national story about being fired for blogging and continued through the years by Armstrong’s stories of post-partum depression. It’s become the most read blog on the Internet. It’s reach alone dwarfs anything I could possibly keep up with.

Black Marks on Wood Pulp is just me, blah blah blahing about deeply introspective and self-serving narratives.

But the real concern is that, through the life of this blog, I’ve never considered it prudent to ask for more than a passing attention. Attention for my words and my thoughts, to serve as a sounding board for whatever insecurities and random book thoughts I might have.

Which makes it feel disingenuous to put advertising on my site. Like I’m betraying the trust of my readers. Like I’m stooping to the lowest common denominator.

Even more, it feels as if I’m touting my importance, as if I’m saying, “I am important enough to be sponsored.”

Yet, here I am, contemplating extra income for something I already do. Something I truly enjoy. Monetizing my hobby, as I’ve been lucky enough to do with photography (here and there, at least.)

I don’t have the answer.

I’ll never be at Dooce’s level. I don’t have enough drama in my life, frankly. But until that point, you probably still won’t see ads on Black Marks on Wood Pulp, despite an assurance from several friends and family members that it won’t harm anything. That, while I’ll never be making $40,000 a month, it wouldn’t hurt to bring in an extra $100 bucks every few months. That I’m giving away a talent, refusing to cash in, not giving myself enough credit.

I’d like to say I’m staying ad free because I’m fighting the norm, refusing to put a price on art, saving my readers from the humiliation of seeing tummy tuck and credit report banner ads.

I’d be lying. The real reason I haven’t put a price on Black Marks on Wood Pulp isn’t solely due to integrity or values. It’s because I’m too scared of offending my readers, tied to the vocal minority that will call it “selling out.”

It’s because I’m too afraid to leap, not knowing who would still be around to catch me if I fell too far.

Tags: Blogging, Vilhauer, Words, Writing |

5 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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