Sharing the Results of My Not-So-Grand Experiment

Some of you may remember that a few weeks ago I announced I would stop blogging every day, and cut the frequency of my output down to something more like a couple of times a week. There were a few reasons for this, but the main one was that I just didn’t feel like I was getting any kind of personal return that justified the time I was putting into it. I’m not necessarily talking about money here (though it would not hurt my feelings at all if you were inclined to buy one of my books). But the simple truth is that blogging every day had become more of a burden than a joy. Are times you should stick with things even when you don’t enjoy them? Sure. But there are also times when you should cut your losses and think hard about why you’re voluntarily participating in something you hate.

Anyhoo, I was thinking some of you blogger geeks might like a little insight into the results of my experiment. I was going to call this “running the numbers” but I’m not actually going to give you any numbers. Unfortunately “running the vague comparative value statements” doesn’t have quite the same punch.

What happened to my traffic when I stopped writing new posts every day? So far, absolutely nothing. Actually there might have been a slight downtick, but really things have been running on a pretty even keel.

How is this possible? Well, the majority of my traffic isn’t and never has been visitors flocking to new posts. Actually, the majority of my traffic comes from people Googleing the word “clockwork” and finding this post. I have no idea how or why this happens since it’s not anywhere close to the first page on the Google results, but…whatever. It just goes to show that you never know which posts are going connect with readers. It also goes to show that SEO is a powerful force in the blogging world. You are making the most of it, right? (Hint: always use tags.)

But even putting aside the comparatively stable  number of visitors to my blog, this experiment has still been a huge success. On my side it’s freed up time for me to spend with my family and work on my other writing projects (though sometimes I still feel like I’m stuck in the mud). It’s also meant I can take more care in crafting the blog posts that I do make. Not that I was sloppy before, but I’m only one guy and writing an average of 500 words a day for public consumption on top of doing my real job and other writing projects means there’s bound to be some lag in quality somewhere.

But also, and I think more importantly, I believe the switch has been good for you the readers. If I’m updating every day, there are a lot of you who just aren’t going to be able to keep up with that volume. After all, I’m under no illusions that I’m the only blog you’re following. Scaling back the posting time means that your RSS feed or inbox isn’t getting slowly back up with posts you haven’t had the time to read. Even if all those posts were really good, basic economics teaches us that value is a function of supply and demand, which means that the more “supply” of my blog you have, the less valuable it will be to you.

So those are my thoughts. What are yours? Have you experienced anything similar with your blog? Has the change of pace in posting affected your opinion of the Unsanity Files blog? Think I’m full of hot air? I’d love to hear what you think, so drop a line or ten in the comments and share your blogging wisdom.

How to Write a Book

The other day I was considering doing another round of search term bingo, so I did a quick scroll down through search terms that have led readers to my site. I found some real gems including, “Alien coming out of a space ship,” “White lima bean pills,” “Is it ok to eat larger lima beans after you run for the daty for dinner?” and my personal favourite, “I’m not paid enough to answer stupid questions.”

(Incidentally the single search term that brings the most readers to my site from Google is “Clockwork.” What is up with that?)

But then I came across one that read, “How to write a book”. And it got me thinking. Because I’ve never done a basic bare-bones rundown for someone looking into getting into this whole writing thing.

What would I tell someone like that? How would I advise them?

Of course the obvious answer would be for me to scream at them to turn back, that this whole writing thing is an emotional drain and a waste of time. I would try to tell them that they’re not going to get rich off of this. No, it doesn’t matter what they heard about whatever famous author getting paid truckloads of money for his first book, that isn’t going to be them. They’d be better off playing the lottery.

Except I know better. Facts aren’t going to deter this person. They’ve got stars in their eyes. They’re special. They’re not like all these other wannabe hacks.

So instead I’d tell them this:

‘You want to write a book? Here’s what you do. You sit down and you write the freaking book.

That’s all.

No. Really. There is no magic formula. I mean, I’d suggest maybe having some kind of plan for where you want to go with this thing (we call these little jewels “outlines; do not disregard them) and reading books about style and story can’t hurt, but writing at it’s core, especially at the start, is just sitting down, setting some kind of goal for the day, and doing your best to hit that goal.

For anyone who’s interested I tried to write a thousand words a day when I started. If you want to do more or less, that’s fine. But I’d say keeping a schedule is important.

Odds are pretty good you’re going to have some missteps along the way. That’s okay. You’re not the only one. My good friend Ellie Soderstrom just had to scrap two years of work, because it just wasn’t working out right.

Maybe now would be a good time to bring up that whole, “Get out while you still can” thing? No? Still determined to write a book, huh? Then keep writing.

And while you’re writing keep reading. Pick up whatever writing books you can, and do your best to absorb the wisdom of those who have walked this path before you.

And one day, you’ll write “The End.” And you’ll prop your chair back with your hands laced behind your head, and think, “Well I’m glad that’s over with.”

And we’ll come in and push your over backwards and laugh, because you are so not done. There’re rewrites, and edits, and looking for an agent, and dealing with the crushing despair of rejection and….’

So yeah, that’s what I’d tell them. Not the most upbeat and encouraging bit of advice, but then if you’re looking at writing a book your life isn’t going to be upbeat or encouraging. Writing is work. It can be fun work from time to time, but in the end work is still work.

And here’s the thing. I’m not sure you can teach someone to write a book. I mean there are things they need to know, but writing and all the mess that goes with it is something you have to learn for yourself.

You have to learn to discipline yourself to write consistently. You have to learn how to deal with the depression that can come with rejection, with fear and self-doubt, and no one can teach you those things. You just have to go through them. You have to build up your strength and endurance a little at a time until one day you can look back and say, “Wow, I was kind of a loser back then. Good thing I kept at it and got better.”

And that’s the key. Keep at it. Never be too proud to learn something new. Never stop growing.

That’s how you write a book.

How to Start Charcoal without Lighter Fluid in Three Hours or Fewer

Ingredients:

1. One empty bottle of lighter fluid.

2. Well-Marinated Steak

3. One Grill Full of Unlit Charcoal

4. One Box of Unlit Matches

Step 1: Pick up the bottle of lighter fluid and realize that it is empty.

Step 2: Get angry. Be creative here. Anything from glaring at the charcoal hoping it will burst into flames by the power of your fury to cursing the iron heavens is appropriate.

Step 3: Determine that a little setback like this isn’t going to stop you by golly. Remind yourself that the pioneers didn’t have lighter fluid and they cooked out all the time.

Step 4. Take approximately half the matches in your box and build a pyre inside the mound of charcoal. Light pyre.

Step 5. Get angry when this doesn’t work at all. More cursing of iron heavens (optional).

Step 6. Google, “How to Start Charcoal without Lighter Fluid” on your cell phone. Ignore the tiny voice in your head reminding you that the pioneers did not have cell phones.

Step 6. Follow instructions obtained on internet. Insert ball of wadded up newspaper and build charcoal up around it. Light.

Step 7. This doesn’t work either. More cursing of iron heavens.

Step 8. Shift your paradigm. Start to think of this as starting a fire rather than starting charcoal. (Note: paradigm in this example is an automatic. Extra steps may be required for standard shift paradigms.)

Step 9:  Gather kindling: bits of dry grass, tiny twigs, slightly less tiny twigs, small sticks.

Step 10: Push charcoal to the edge of grill and pile kindling in the middle starting with dry grass and tiny twigs.

Step 11: Light Kindling. Add slightly less tiny twigs and small sticks little by little as the fire catches.

Step 12: Pile charcoal on top of the fire you have started a little at a time, being careful not to smother it.

Step 13: Bask in the glory of your success. Tweet an obscure reference to Atop the Fourth Wall (optional)

Step 14: Grill and eat steak.

Step 15: Write blog post chronicling your adventure.

Step 16. Edit Blog post and realize you have two Step 6’s. Ignore.