- Give posts clear titles. After half a lifetime reading British newspapers, it seems wrong somehow to just say what something is, without trying to twist it somehow, use a quotation, or make it ironic. Wrong it may be, but nobody will be Googling for your play on words, so you'll be buried deep in page 10,000 of "Big Brother 7" or whatever.
- Guide newbies. Almost all your visitors will be visting only once, to look at a specific subject they are currently interested in. Most will move on. But make it easy for them to explore by having links to your best or most popular posts as part of the sidebar.
- Post often, or regularly. This is where I fall down, because my blog isn't the No. 1 thing in my life- it's down there at number 75 or so. Repeat visitors like to see new content. And of course, the more content there is, the more archive there is to be picked up by searches.
- Don't bother with carnivals, webrings etc. There are 100 million webistes out there. Sharing links and passing around a handful of readers from site to site makes no difference. That's not quite true, but in general I'd say if you're going to invest your time, put it into writing more content rather than chasing links.
- Be topical. My review of Not Going Out might not be very good, or thorough, or even a proper review, but it's currently Google's No. 1 hit for "Not Going Out review". Maybe you can't always be right- but you can always be first.
- Review things. Why? Because one of the great uses for the Web is for people to find out what a film/book/album is like. So people like reviews. Much better than hearing about shoe shopping or your favourite breakfast cereal.
- Link out. Links are helpful to the reader, and raise Google rank. Win, win.
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Monday, November 13, 2006
How to increase your blog traffic
I have posted before about Jakob Nielsen and his comments on blogs, written from the perspective of business-to-business web design. I concurred with most of his recommendations, in a theoretical way. Recently, though, I've noticed that my hit counter has, for the first time ever, shown signs of life (10 a day may not seem like many, but try saying that to someone who got three!). Here are my (experience based) suggestions:
Friday, July 21, 2006
Another blogger gets dooced
Petite Anglaise is the latest victim of blogging at or about work. It's not entirely clear on what grounds her employer sacked her: general loss of trust seems to be the line. This is partly because they claim that her blog revealed that she had not given the full reasons for her absence on two occasions. The hysteria of their response is reflected in this: in any other circumstance, an employee would be asked to explain themselves, rather than sacked outright. After all, there is no reason they should be taking the blog as the truth. It is interesting that the fictional case in my radio play Dooced got it so right, down to the creepy sexism of the male managers (not that that requires the skills of Nostradamus). Of course, blogs do frighten people, not least because they know that whatever they say may be used and given in postings, with whatever spin their employee wishes to place upon it. That's also why company hate tribunals: usually they have very tight control on what emerges into the public domain, but you never know what sort of dirty linen or DNA-stained dresses might turn up in the course of public questioning.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Bloggers Anonymous
There is a popular fallacy in the blogosphere that 'we' share some great set of beliefs or attitudes. No, 'we' share a technology, and have nothing more in common than those who produce works on paper, or in any other medium. Indeed, the absence of critical oversight means that opinions of all sorts can be voiced. My experience of blog surfing is that you are only two clicks away from a loony. Bloggers blog for a range of reasons and make different choices about how they deal with the tension between the freedom to say anything online and the possibility that they will at some point have to answer for these statements to real people. It is a well-known phenomenon that people who started out anonymously, and wild in their indiscretions, often find themselves hemmed in by finding that some of their subjects are starting to read it.
In general I'd say this is hardly an issue that concerns me, partly because my writing aspirations are not confined to cyberspace, and therefore true anonymity was hardly an option (anyone interested enough could unmask me on Google in about two seconds, and I have been actively advertising my blog to my family on the principle of hiding in plain sight). Instead, I have merely used a mild screen to create a little distance between my professional/real identity and what I write here, in order to allow me to be more frivolous and controversial than if I were continually on record. Paradoxically, my writing (of all sorts) tends to be light on personal information: my poetry, for example, ranges far and wide in subject matter, but rarely gets close to my family or my work. But then, this blog is much closer in spirit to print than many I read: I would not, under any concievable circumstances, write an entry about what I had for breakfast (yawn), or how bad the rush hour traffic is (shock!), or whether I should commit because it's been like three weeks and I think he's ready but I'm not sure (zzz). Those that do obviously have a different idea of what they are blogging for. In a few cases, anonymity and the freedom to create a distinctive informal voice from nowhere creates a gossipy diary which may well be largely fictional (like the Sarcastrix and the Hot Librarian), but the vast majority stick to dreary candour, recording things that you wouldn't bother telling someone over the breakfast table, let alone setting down for posterity.
Which explains another common feature of blogs: they die. They die because their authors stop caring, because after the initial buzz of creating Web content wears off, they realise that the sort of fame where everyone is famous isn't in fact the fame they seek.
In general I'd say this is hardly an issue that concerns me, partly because my writing aspirations are not confined to cyberspace, and therefore true anonymity was hardly an option (anyone interested enough could unmask me on Google in about two seconds, and I have been actively advertising my blog to my family on the principle of hiding in plain sight). Instead, I have merely used a mild screen to create a little distance between my professional/real identity and what I write here, in order to allow me to be more frivolous and controversial than if I were continually on record. Paradoxically, my writing (of all sorts) tends to be light on personal information: my poetry, for example, ranges far and wide in subject matter, but rarely gets close to my family or my work. But then, this blog is much closer in spirit to print than many I read: I would not, under any concievable circumstances, write an entry about what I had for breakfast (yawn), or how bad the rush hour traffic is (shock!), or whether I should commit because it's been like three weeks and I think he's ready but I'm not sure (zzz). Those that do obviously have a different idea of what they are blogging for. In a few cases, anonymity and the freedom to create a distinctive informal voice from nowhere creates a gossipy diary which may well be largely fictional (like the Sarcastrix and the Hot Librarian), but the vast majority stick to dreary candour, recording things that you wouldn't bother telling someone over the breakfast table, let alone setting down for posterity.
Which explains another common feature of blogs: they die. They die because their authors stop caring, because after the initial buzz of creating Web content wears off, they realise that the sort of fame where everyone is famous isn't in fact the fame they seek.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Blog ingredient list
I ran this wordcloud program for the blog. Reminds me of the honest man who was advised to sue his face for libel.
Friday, January 20, 2006
In place of a profile
My user profile is rather enigmatic, containing no useful information. This post is intended to provide readers with some background about my poetry at Complete and Utter Poetry and related topics.
Q. There's a lot of Christian imagery in your poems. Are you a Christian?
A. No, I am, like Douglas Adams, a 'radical atheist' (a term he invented to avoid the 'I'm an atheist' 'Don't you mean agnostic' 'No, I mean atheist' conversation). However, my upbringing was very Christian, and as a result, the Anglican liturgy, hymns, and the Bible form part of my language. My shift towards agnosticism and then atheism was quite quick, and can be explained by the total absence of any spiritual experience: by the application of Occam's razor, the simplest solution, No God, stands until or unless this becomes untenable. However, Christian and Biblical stories are very useful in addressing philosophical issues; in much the same way Anglo-Saxon missionaries re-branded Christ as a hero-warrior, he can be re-packaged in several ways.
I have no interest in 'proving' that the Bible is wrong or inconsistent, although I do get a bit exasperated by fundamentalist arguments that it is all true and all correct and not at all inconsistent or open to interpretation. Thus when I looked at Genesis http://http://locock.blogspot.com/2005/10/theology-101.html and noted that God appeared to mislead Adam by saying that eating the Fruit would make him die, and it didn't, I later came across an explanation that when God said this he meant that Adam would start to die after eating it, not die on the spot. To which you might reasonably respond that God might have been a bit clearer on this fairly important issue.
I have no time for the woolly vague sort of Christian who believes that the world is a nice place in which nice things happen thanks to God; I do have some respect for the more thoughtful sort who acknowledge that much that happens is bad and that God is in no position to prevent it.
Q. Where do you think poems come from?
A. Mine emerge slowly from the subconcious. I will often feel an idea at the edge of my mind, and wait for it to emerge. It's usually a scenario or mood rather than a phrase. But as I say in my poem Ars poetica, that is really only the start of the work. I try to write down a narrative, not caring too much about the sound or form, and then rigorously edit it down so that it says only what needs to be said.
It is probably something to do with how Creative Writing is taught that so many people seem to think that having the inspiration is all that is needed.
Q. You use a range of poetic forms: how do you choose them?
A. In general, I will use a form if I can fit the thought to it. Ideally, a poem should effortlessly sit in its structure as if that is how it would have been written anyway. The great advantage of forms like the haiku / senryu is that they provide an organising principle without constraining the content. It is a commonplace to say that free verse is usually terrible; I would add that so is most rhyme, because the most worthless poem might be held to have some merit if it rhymed. No. My advice to aspiring poets is to forget rhyme, and concentrate instead on economy of expression and clarity of thought. The other main form I use is the villanelle, which allows a refrain structure without imposing an unnatural word order or stress.
Q. How would you define poetry?
A. There's a lot to be said for Auden's definiton as 'memorable speech'. That leaves it quite open, while reflecting the basic principle that it is a medium in which the words matter. In fact my definition would be 'carefully chosen words'.
Q. Which contemporary poets do you admire?
A. I don't read much poetry, I must say. This is partly because I don't have much time for reading at all, but in any case I find that reading modern poetry is hard work. Published, literary, poetry, seems too smug and complicated; internet poetry too simple and banal. Ideally, I'd like to read short, snappy, witty, clever, poems, conscious of literary forms, and not mentioning rainbows, cats or gardens. Wendy Cope's good. Of earlier poets, I like Larkin and Amis, Eliot and Auden.
Q. You often include quotations as part of the titles of your poems. Why?
Q. There's a lot of Christian imagery in your poems. Are you a Christian?
A. No, I am, like Douglas Adams, a 'radical atheist' (a term he invented to avoid the 'I'm an atheist' 'Don't you mean agnostic' 'No, I mean atheist' conversation). However, my upbringing was very Christian, and as a result, the Anglican liturgy, hymns, and the Bible form part of my language. My shift towards agnosticism and then atheism was quite quick, and can be explained by the total absence of any spiritual experience: by the application of Occam's razor, the simplest solution, No God, stands until or unless this becomes untenable. However, Christian and Biblical stories are very useful in addressing philosophical issues; in much the same way Anglo-Saxon missionaries re-branded Christ as a hero-warrior, he can be re-packaged in several ways.
I have no interest in 'proving' that the Bible is wrong or inconsistent, although I do get a bit exasperated by fundamentalist arguments that it is all true and all correct and not at all inconsistent or open to interpretation. Thus when I looked at Genesis http://http://locock.blogspot.com/2005/10/theology-101.html and noted that God appeared to mislead Adam by saying that eating the Fruit would make him die, and it didn't, I later came across an explanation that when God said this he meant that Adam would start to die after eating it, not die on the spot. To which you might reasonably respond that God might have been a bit clearer on this fairly important issue.
I have no time for the woolly vague sort of Christian who believes that the world is a nice place in which nice things happen thanks to God; I do have some respect for the more thoughtful sort who acknowledge that much that happens is bad and that God is in no position to prevent it.
Q. Where do you think poems come from?
A. Mine emerge slowly from the subconcious. I will often feel an idea at the edge of my mind, and wait for it to emerge. It's usually a scenario or mood rather than a phrase. But as I say in my poem Ars poetica, that is really only the start of the work. I try to write down a narrative, not caring too much about the sound or form, and then rigorously edit it down so that it says only what needs to be said.
It is probably something to do with how Creative Writing is taught that so many people seem to think that having the inspiration is all that is needed.
Q. You use a range of poetic forms: how do you choose them?
A. In general, I will use a form if I can fit the thought to it. Ideally, a poem should effortlessly sit in its structure as if that is how it would have been written anyway. The great advantage of forms like the haiku / senryu is that they provide an organising principle without constraining the content. It is a commonplace to say that free verse is usually terrible; I would add that so is most rhyme, because the most worthless poem might be held to have some merit if it rhymed. No. My advice to aspiring poets is to forget rhyme, and concentrate instead on economy of expression and clarity of thought. The other main form I use is the villanelle, which allows a refrain structure without imposing an unnatural word order or stress.
Q. How would you define poetry?
A. There's a lot to be said for Auden's definiton as 'memorable speech'. That leaves it quite open, while reflecting the basic principle that it is a medium in which the words matter. In fact my definition would be 'carefully chosen words'.
Q. Which contemporary poets do you admire?
A. I don't read much poetry, I must say. This is partly because I don't have much time for reading at all, but in any case I find that reading modern poetry is hard work. Published, literary, poetry, seems too smug and complicated; internet poetry too simple and banal. Ideally, I'd like to read short, snappy, witty, clever, poems, conscious of literary forms, and not mentioning rainbows, cats or gardens. Wendy Cope's good. Of earlier poets, I like Larkin and Amis, Eliot and Auden.
Q. You often include quotations as part of the titles of your poems. Why?
A. The inclusion of epigraphs wasn't something I had thought about: it seemed natural at first, since all of those I mentioned do it quite a lot. It's not intended to show off: I try to find quotations which bear on the subject of the poem, hinting at its approach. For example, the long poem Seven Cities starts with a quote from the book of Jonah and another from Eliot so that before starting the poem proper, the reader is already being led to expect an allegory about destruction, cities, and salvation. It's only recently that I realised how old-fashioned the inclusion of epigraphs looks, not that that will stop me.
Monday, October 24, 2005
Blogs and usability
Jakob Nielsen is a leading proponent of usability: the principle that the design of website and user interfaces should be based on how users behave, rather than how a crazed web designer wants to impress other crazed web designers. His website is usually a fount of common sense in a world where such things are still rare. However, in his most recent column, he addresses the principles of usability as applied to blogs. He says some sensible things: that a 'journal', sequential, structure, may be easy to set up but is a real pain for latecomers trying to find popular entries, so you really need to provide links to favourite old posts (it is no coincidence that I have done this already). But he also claims that users will judge a blog partly on its domain name, and be very sniffy about those who really of free resources like Blogger. To me this smacks of the mentality of those who buy a gold fountain pen to lend their writing style, or buy an expensive sports car so that they can sit in a traffic jam in style. The whole issue of domain squatting has a nostalgic feel to it these days- as if anyone tried to find Charles Dickens' website by typing in www.charlesdickens.com. They certainly wouldn't try it twice, since this would inevitably lead to a strange Biblical prophecy site, online poker, or dating (interesting sidelight on who they think uses the Internet, isn't it?).
UPDATE
Nielsen's comments have led to many responses, predicatbly, since he has been annoying web designers for years by saying things like 'Flash is crap'. I understand he now believes Flash is great, but, no, he was right first time. There's an interesting
parody of a usability report on a portal to initiate nuclear war. The authors do not realise, however, that they actually support what Nielsen is saying- that website users do not want to have to learn to use every new website from scratch, that poor usablity will discourage less-motivated users, and users need to be able to control their visiting experience. In recommending that (commercial) websites avoid 'cutting edge' untried innovative techniques in favour of established, dull, run-of-the-mill ones that work, he is giving good advice to the world outside the design community. I sometimes wonder whether Gutenberg spent his entire life trying to persuade his unadventurous customers to explore the potential of his new technology: "oh, sure, you can read it- but I have these flashy new typefaces which give a real trendy feeling-or we could print pages alternately up and down so that the reader isn't constrained by that stale old left-to-right start-to-finish straitjacket- or we could print on light-degradable papers so the user can experience the book falling apart as a he read it"
Yes, his site looks crap- it is simple and text-based. It's almost like a blog, strangely enough.
UPDATE
Nielsen's comments have led to many responses, predicatbly, since he has been annoying web designers for years by saying things like 'Flash is crap'. I understand he now believes Flash is great, but, no, he was right first time. There's an interesting
parody of a usability report on a portal to initiate nuclear war. The authors do not realise, however, that they actually support what Nielsen is saying- that website users do not want to have to learn to use every new website from scratch, that poor usablity will discourage less-motivated users, and users need to be able to control their visiting experience. In recommending that (commercial) websites avoid 'cutting edge' untried innovative techniques in favour of established, dull, run-of-the-mill ones that work, he is giving good advice to the world outside the design community. I sometimes wonder whether Gutenberg spent his entire life trying to persuade his unadventurous customers to explore the potential of his new technology: "oh, sure, you can read it- but I have these flashy new typefaces which give a real trendy feeling-or we could print pages alternately up and down so that the reader isn't constrained by that stale old left-to-right start-to-finish straitjacket- or we could print on light-degradable papers so the user can experience the book falling apart as a he read it"
Yes, his site looks crap- it is simple and text-based. It's almost like a blog, strangely enough.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
All about meme
1. Why did you start blogging?
I realised that I was only spending 8 hours a day staring at a computer screen, and was hoping to double or triple that.
No, I started blogging as a creative outlet. I had always felt that I would like to write a weekly column in a newspaper or magazine, since I discovered early in life that I was blessed with large numbers of strong opinions and the desire to share them with an audience. Although I had found platforms for various bits of technical writing, there was still a gap.
2. Are the reasons you blog now the same as when you started? If not, what's changed?
Pretty much. I take writing more seriously. I never really planned to do the daily journal "had cornflakes for breakfast" thing, but I am keener to exploit the freedom of the format to include interesting/funny websites I come across and silly jokes alongside more serious and considered pieces.
3. What would make blogging better for you?
More readers. More comments. Reading blogs like Monster Sarcasm Rally, the Hot Librarian, and Poetic Acceptance, half the fun is the regular commenters and their dialogue with the author.
4. Do you have comments on your blog? Why or why not? Do you comment on other blogs? What motivates you to post a comment?
Yes, at the moment, although I hate spam comments. I like to have debates about what I've written. Sometimes, I get things wrong. Shocking, huh? I comment on other blogs when I can think of something relevant, clever, and funny, so not that often. I occasionally comment to dispute something really wrong-headed, but I try not to get into it. I can't single-handed save Western democracy from its defenders. I don't comment much on poetry because I find I have to think about and re-read a poem before I get a grip on it.
5. What is your philosophy of the blogroll?
I don't have time to surf the blogosphere regularly, so I just have hard links to my 'daily fix' blogs. If I have time, I follow the blogrolls from them to my other favourites. I have to discipline myself to stop reading and start writing. But the more linking-in the better.
I realised that I was only spending 8 hours a day staring at a computer screen, and was hoping to double or triple that.
No, I started blogging as a creative outlet. I had always felt that I would like to write a weekly column in a newspaper or magazine, since I discovered early in life that I was blessed with large numbers of strong opinions and the desire to share them with an audience. Although I had found platforms for various bits of technical writing, there was still a gap.
2. Are the reasons you blog now the same as when you started? If not, what's changed?
Pretty much. I take writing more seriously. I never really planned to do the daily journal "had cornflakes for breakfast" thing, but I am keener to exploit the freedom of the format to include interesting/funny websites I come across and silly jokes alongside more serious and considered pieces.
3. What would make blogging better for you?
More readers. More comments. Reading blogs like Monster Sarcasm Rally, the Hot Librarian, and Poetic Acceptance, half the fun is the regular commenters and their dialogue with the author.
4. Do you have comments on your blog? Why or why not? Do you comment on other blogs? What motivates you to post a comment?
Yes, at the moment, although I hate spam comments. I like to have debates about what I've written. Sometimes, I get things wrong. Shocking, huh? I comment on other blogs when I can think of something relevant, clever, and funny, so not that often. I occasionally comment to dispute something really wrong-headed, but I try not to get into it. I can't single-handed save Western democracy from its defenders. I don't comment much on poetry because I find I have to think about and re-read a poem before I get a grip on it.
5. What is your philosophy of the blogroll?
I don't have time to surf the blogosphere regularly, so I just have hard links to my 'daily fix' blogs. If I have time, I follow the blogrolls from them to my other favourites. I have to discipline myself to stop reading and start writing. But the more linking-in the better.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
The obligatory Google search post
Not all of the visitors here planned to come- some must have been very surprised where they ended up.
Here's a selection of the search terms:
love inspirational poetic lines
inspirational verse
inspirational song words
How desperate for inspiration you must be to put it into Google!
speeding getting caught
tut, tut, a bit late now
andrew motion poetry horrible
tell us what you really think!
blowing in the wind vietnam song
no, it isn't- the US had only just got into Vietnam in 1962, and it wasn't until 1965 that it became a major focus for protest.
commentary of The Warning by Adelaide Crapsey
you don't think that maybe this is for an essay? If so, I'd start by looking at a grammar book under "on" and "of" - which is which.
consumerism illusion
"The Illusion of Choice"
Glad someone agrees.
gwyneth lewis +poem +millenium
Hope they got what they wanted!
hecataeas
You want obscure? I can do obscure.
The odd thing is that having got a mention on a search results page, the link looked close enough to what they were after for them to click on it. Go, as they say in America, figure.
Here's a selection of the search terms:
love inspirational poetic lines
inspirational verse
inspirational song words
How desperate for inspiration you must be to put it into Google!
speeding getting caught
tut, tut, a bit late now
andrew motion poetry horrible
tell us what you really think!
blowing in the wind vietnam song
no, it isn't- the US had only just got into Vietnam in 1962, and it wasn't until 1965 that it became a major focus for protest.
commentary of The Warning by Adelaide Crapsey
you don't think that maybe this is for an essay? If so, I'd start by looking at a grammar book under "on" and "of" - which is which.
consumerism illusion
"The Illusion of Choice"
Glad someone agrees.
gwyneth lewis +poem +millenium
Hope they got what they wanted!
hecataeas
You want obscure? I can do obscure.
The odd thing is that having got a mention on a search results page, the link looked close enough to what they were after for them to click on it. Go, as they say in America, figure.
Monday, May 02, 2005
The death of the book
Those with long memories will recall the talk in the 80s of the "paperless office" that would result from the adoption of IT. Others, if interested, can dig out the magazine articles and company documents from the filing cabinet, or the records department, or the off-site dead record storage warehouse. So it was with some scepticism that I heard the prediction that e-books would replace real, paper, books. Until this week.
I was typing at the computer, and wanted a quote from Shakespeare ("Rosemary, that's for remembrance", from Hamlet). Glancing around the room, the Complete Works wasn't there-must be upstairs. Rather than go and get it (taking perhaps 2 minutes at most), I typed it into Google, and got my answer.
But on the bright side, it must be said that Google was not definitive: a good half of the quotations were mis-worded, or attributed to the wrong character, and in some cases to the wrong play.
I was typing at the computer, and wanted a quote from Shakespeare ("Rosemary, that's for remembrance", from Hamlet). Glancing around the room, the Complete Works wasn't there-must be upstairs. Rather than go and get it (taking perhaps 2 minutes at most), I typed it into Google, and got my answer.
But on the bright side, it must be said that Google was not definitive: a good half of the quotations were mis-worded, or attributed to the wrong character, and in some cases to the wrong play.
Friday, April 15, 2005
Technical update
Blogger's comments are now functioning correctly.
Normal service will resume shortly.
Normal service will resume shortly.
Friday, April 08, 2005
Unintentional humour
From the Blogger technical support page:
"A problem with the problem page is being fixed and the new recover post feature is offline for a bit while we make some adjustments. "
To be fair, they do realise the humour of the situation. But their motto does seem to be "If it works, break it!".
"A problem with the problem page is being fixed and the new recover post feature is offline for a bit while we make some adjustments. "
To be fair, they do realise the humour of the situation. But their motto does seem to be "If it works, break it!".
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Can't take this rejection
You get born. You get rejected. You die. Which hurts most? Well, the middle one is the only one you remember, and mull over, and relive, and dream about. No wonder writers and would-be writers obsess about it. But the condition is more general than that. Everyone is rejected in love and work almost all the time: it only takes a few exceptions to make all the difference. But if it's so common, why are we so bad at dealing with it? Some people aren't bothered by it. They say that successful people aren't successful all the time- they just don't dwell on their failures: they learn the lessons and move on.
Hard to do, though, especially with something as personal as writing. While it is possible to shrug off criticism of one's clothes or hairstyle or car as just some fool's view, the same cannot be done about criticism of one's writing. After all, the writing self is the core self, so how can you take someone's placing a low value on it lightly? Especially if you yourself are convinced that it is perfect, or nearly so, or getting there. So although I can shrug off many other rejections, it's the writing rejections that hurt.
There's a website dedicated to Rejection, including postings of people's worst rejection letters. It's not as much fun as its sounds, because rejection letters only really sound terrible to the recipient. Anyone else will pick it up and read out "It says they liked some of it" as if this were any compensation at all for not saying "We'll print this and anything else you ever write and pay you a thousand pounds per word".
There is an interesting debate to be had about styles of rejection. Is it worse to hear nothing for weeks or months, or to hear "no" straight away? Is it worse to get a reply which shows that they never even read your submission, or one which takes the trouble to find fault with every line? Is it worse to get a photocopied rejection slip or a chatty personal note which says the same thing in a different way?
The BBC, which has to cope with thousands of unsolicited submissions (including mine), has addressed this head-on. Their Writer's Room FAQ is quite good, covering such concerns as "Will my idea get stolen?" and "Will they actually read my manuscript?" (to which the refreshingly-honest answer is that they'll read the first 10 pages of anything and read on to the end if they think it's worth it). And their rejection letters are good, too (including mine): they are clear in saying they don't want it, but also make a comment which demonstrates familiarity with its contents.
And there's also something final about it. If the BBC don't want it, no-one will. Get over it. Put it on the shelf (or on your blog), rip off the best bits for future re-use, and move on. Poetry magazines are different. There's always one more to try, one whose editor you know, or whose poetry you think is similar to yours, or at least shares a sensibility. To be fair, many editors are kind. They don't keep you hanging around daydreaming of acceptance - no, they make sure you are disillusioned by return of post. It is a sort of consolation to realise that even biographies of good, famous writers contain lengthy accounts of frustration and rejection; it is sobering to think that actors have it even worse: no matter how many Oscars they've won, they're still on the audition treadmill.
Not all bloggers are would-be writers. But many are; the best are. (Established writers don't bother - they're too busy selling their work, or doing their work). And one of the beauties of blogging is the lack of mediation. I can put anything I want here, without having anyone agreeing that it's good. I don't even have to believe it's good. All I need to believe is that someone lese might appreciate it.. And one of the other beauties of blogging is getting reader's views. The web counter goes up. People come; some stay. Some return. This is validation: much more so than the wearying task of trying to find someone in the world who has: a. heard of the magazine your poem is in; and b. read the relevant issue; and c. read your poem; and d. remembers it. So hi out there, and thanks for reading. And commenting, if you want to.
Hard to do, though, especially with something as personal as writing. While it is possible to shrug off criticism of one's clothes or hairstyle or car as just some fool's view, the same cannot be done about criticism of one's writing. After all, the writing self is the core self, so how can you take someone's placing a low value on it lightly? Especially if you yourself are convinced that it is perfect, or nearly so, or getting there. So although I can shrug off many other rejections, it's the writing rejections that hurt.
There's a website dedicated to Rejection, including postings of people's worst rejection letters. It's not as much fun as its sounds, because rejection letters only really sound terrible to the recipient. Anyone else will pick it up and read out "It says they liked some of it" as if this were any compensation at all for not saying "We'll print this and anything else you ever write and pay you a thousand pounds per word".
There is an interesting debate to be had about styles of rejection. Is it worse to hear nothing for weeks or months, or to hear "no" straight away? Is it worse to get a reply which shows that they never even read your submission, or one which takes the trouble to find fault with every line? Is it worse to get a photocopied rejection slip or a chatty personal note which says the same thing in a different way?
The BBC, which has to cope with thousands of unsolicited submissions (including mine), has addressed this head-on. Their Writer's Room FAQ is quite good, covering such concerns as "Will my idea get stolen?" and "Will they actually read my manuscript?" (to which the refreshingly-honest answer is that they'll read the first 10 pages of anything and read on to the end if they think it's worth it). And their rejection letters are good, too (including mine): they are clear in saying they don't want it, but also make a comment which demonstrates familiarity with its contents.
And there's also something final about it. If the BBC don't want it, no-one will. Get over it. Put it on the shelf (or on your blog), rip off the best bits for future re-use, and move on. Poetry magazines are different. There's always one more to try, one whose editor you know, or whose poetry you think is similar to yours, or at least shares a sensibility. To be fair, many editors are kind. They don't keep you hanging around daydreaming of acceptance - no, they make sure you are disillusioned by return of post. It is a sort of consolation to realise that even biographies of good, famous writers contain lengthy accounts of frustration and rejection; it is sobering to think that actors have it even worse: no matter how many Oscars they've won, they're still on the audition treadmill.
Not all bloggers are would-be writers. But many are; the best are. (Established writers don't bother - they're too busy selling their work, or doing their work). And one of the beauties of blogging is the lack of mediation. I can put anything I want here, without having anyone agreeing that it's good. I don't even have to believe it's good. All I need to believe is that someone lese might appreciate it.. And one of the other beauties of blogging is getting reader's views. The web counter goes up. People come; some stay. Some return. This is validation: much more so than the wearying task of trying to find someone in the world who has: a. heard of the magazine your poem is in; and b. read the relevant issue; and c. read your poem; and d. remembers it. So hi out there, and thanks for reading. And commenting, if you want to.
Thursday, March 17, 2005
Better than Google
Yes, you read right. I was reading an article last autumn about browsers and search engines, and it said that the Web user was a very fickle audience- it switches browser in a matter of months as the next big thing comes along, and therefore Google's rule in searching might also end soon and quickly. At the time I thought this was rubbish- who could improve on it? I had used it faithfully for years as the only good way to get at content.
But I must now admit that although I still hate the Yahoo! directory search, the word search yields a lot more content, particularly for very obscure subjects [ie when Google yields no hits at all]. This is because Yahoo's mechansim is different: instead of counting how many sites link to a page, it counts how many times the search term appears. Google's ranking is basically telling you how many web designers thought the content was cool. Now, I trust web designers to do many things, but not to assess the validity and usefulness of content. There is therefore a theoretical basis for the observed advantages of Yahoo, particularly now that Google is swamped by the advertising directory sites, so that time after time a supposedly relevant site has simply listed every village in the country as content on their site, without anything in the category you want.
But,veven better, you don't have to choose between Google and Yahoo: metasearch engines like www.dogpile.com run your search in several engines, including those two, and then show the results. So while I'm glad that Google at least has found a way to make money from the Web, I won't be investing in their shares.
But I must now admit that although I still hate the Yahoo! directory search, the word search yields a lot more content, particularly for very obscure subjects [ie when Google yields no hits at all]. This is because Yahoo's mechansim is different: instead of counting how many sites link to a page, it counts how many times the search term appears. Google's ranking is basically telling you how many web designers thought the content was cool. Now, I trust web designers to do many things, but not to assess the validity and usefulness of content. There is therefore a theoretical basis for the observed advantages of Yahoo, particularly now that Google is swamped by the advertising directory sites, so that time after time a supposedly relevant site has simply listed every village in the country as content on their site, without anything in the category you want.
But,veven better, you don't have to choose between Google and Yahoo: metasearch engines like www.dogpile.com run your search in several engines, including those two, and then show the results. So while I'm glad that Google at least has found a way to make money from the Web, I won't be investing in their shares.
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
He smiled ironically
It's not just me that hates emoticons : c
Irony alert!: the emoticon at the end of the first sentence was used ironically; )
The online world has its own cliches and truisms, none so haggard as the belief that reliable written communication is impossible without frequent use of
>
emoticons, better known as the "smileys."
...
Irony, it seems, is like nitroglycerin: too tricky to be good for much, and so best left in the hands of fanatics or trained professionals.
...
It is as if the written word were a cutting-edge technology without useful
precedents. Some hackers actually go so far as to maintain, with a straight face
(:-I), that words on a computer screen are different from words on paper--implying that writers of e-mail have nothing useful to learn from Dickens or Hemingway, and that time spent reading old books might be better spent coming up with new emoticons.
Read it all at http://kumo.swcp.com/synth/text/text.smileys
Irony alert!: the emoticon at the end of the first sentence was used ironically; )
Friday, November 05, 2004
Monster Sarcasm Rally
Strange stories from Toronto with a refreshing take on office life: http://monstersarcasmrally.blogspot.com/
and a very funny story about Jimmy Dean sausage adverts
and a very funny story about Jimmy Dean sausage adverts
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