Going Native.

Thursday 28 August, 2008

It’s been quiet here of late. As I was reminded yesterday when it was noted I haven’t posted anything of merit in some time, along with the comment “I may just have to unsubscribe”.

Which is true, of course. For all intents and purposes I appear to have embraced silence and joined a long-lost tribe somewhere in the Amazon. I haven’t, obviously. But you could be forgiven for thinking I did.

It’s a horrible feeling, you know, to have that gnawing need to express, and yet not have even half the vocabulary required to actually communicate it. It is as though there are a million and one ideas — banging drums, demanding attention, pointing out the obviously smart thing to say — which proceed to suddenly fall silent the moment the Texpattern Write form is in front of me.

Blogging is easy. It’s just a bunch of words submitted in a form. Don’t let anyone tell you any different. Everyone can punch phrases into a form and hit submit. Even if, sometimes, they really really shouldn’t.

It’s such a simple thing. And yet, it isn’t. Because keeping the fire burning over time, continuing to improve content and endlessly delivering something one can be at all pleased with, that also resonates with the reader, is not something everyone can do.

The crazy thing is, there is part of my mind, still, that continues to drive me to write that which it has lovingly created. The endless thoughts and ideas all clamouring to be unleashed on the innocent reader. Such a simple thing to dictate out, yet almost impossible to do justice to.

At which point I am reminded, by the other part of me that always seems to have a casting vote, that the aforementioned content is the worst possible thing I have ever written, it is beyond terrible and by all that is holy and just, what in the hell was I thinking?

“That will never fly. Hell, it barely makes sense. And really needn’t be all eight-and-one-half-thousand words long, you retarded dolt.”

That’s the other thing. I’m a wordy bastard. Really, really wordy. The thought that was so short, so brief and exciting, turns into four-hundred-pounds of custard. And there-in is the real challenge. How do you turn the innumerable pounds of bland, into lean, mean, relevance?

I need to rework this design and focus my energies into producing something that rewards the reader for taking a moment, yet doesn’t bombard them in the process. That takes short, yet punchy concepts and delivers tasty snacks of “smart” in a digestible form, wrapped in comfortable apparel.

I don’t need to write more, I need to write less. Often.

If you know me, or have read this blog for any length of time, you’ll understand just how much of a challenge that really will be.