This and Nathaniel’s post on audience have got me thinking and somewhat re-working my approach. In fact, this is an attempt at a short to medium post that puts forth a thought for consideration. Now there is, of course, an appropriate way to strategize and target your audience. That’s what this post is about. But targeting your audience doesn’t mean broadening your appeal¹ so much as knowing your audience, like Nat said, and producing good content.

As should be apparent, this is really just a good business model — it applies to blogging almost informally. Companies like Apple, Inc. understand this.² Apple has a niche market and focuses on content that resonates within this group, to the extent that Jobs has what is termed a “cult following” [warning: link contains some language]. After all, Macs just work. Nevertheless, Apple is also a good example of a company that expanded its focus to great advantage (read: iPhone).

Conversely, Microsoft wants the whole market — go big or go home. Call it biting off more than you can chew, taking in too much territory, or whatever; but Microsoft tries to cover a broad range of user needs, hardware manufacturers and platforms, and comes up short on the quality front. Not content to focus on what it does best (using the term generously), Microsoft is constantly competing with Sony, Apple, Google, Gmail and Linux. And — whether it’s gaming consoles, hardware, media players, operating systems, communication services or search engines — you get a lineup of products doomed to eternal second place.

I could regale you with talk of BSODs, driver headaches and viruses, Windows ME and Vista, but the goal was merely to demonstrate what I mean by “the myth of relevance.” Just getting the most customers or the biggest audience is not an end unto itself. A streamlined, focused business model and quality control builds and retains a loyal consumer following. Spyderco is a good example. With only 30 employees and direct input from owner/founder Sal Glesser, there is a personal attention to quality and focus on customer relations that makes a Spyderco owner feel included, as it were. One wants the same sort of connection with a blog audience.

Finally, one more application: churches. There are, sadly, a lot of churches that would cut off their doctrinal arm to be “relevant.” They are the seeker-friendly, spiritual-milk, easy-believism variety. As Pastor Terry Tollefson is fond of saying, if the young people aren’t coming, break out the pizza, guitars, low lights and couches. Preach what people like to hear. Tickle ears. Unfortunately, they — just like the girl with mismatched shoes (one Converse and maybe a fur-trimmed boot is about right), striped leggings, outlandish hair and the “raccoon” style eyeliner — are pitching an indiscriminate appeal for attention. But attention is not an end to itself. You want the right kind of attention, the right kind of publicity. To quote Pastor Doug Wilson in a related vein, “Young Christian people should seek to become the kind of person that the kind of person they would want to marry would want to marry.”

Churches should want to attract people because of the strong preaching of law and condemnation in tension with grace and love, the unity, fellowship and accountability. The robust doctrine of Psalms and liturgy. The corporate-ness of Christ’s body. If someone is repelled by any of these things, that’s the way it should be — that’s the only hope for them. Diluting the truth until no one feels convicted is doing no one any favors. Taking the potency from worship and the doctrine from the songs is what, in other venues, would be called false advertising.

The church, properly functioning, shows people where they stand in relation to the body of Christ. When this is not done, people either discover spiritual meat at some point and have no taste for it, or settle into a warm, fuzzy, God-isn’t-about-guilt version of Christianity. (Just as long as I don’t have to do anything uncomfortable, like loving unlovable old people in nursing homes or confessing sins or letting grudges go.) On rare occasion, they realize they aren’t getting fed and look for a body to keep them accountable, words they can chew on — the Word himself.

So then, what I’ve called the “myth” of relevance is the notion that attracting attention, broadening appeal or increasing numbers is anything to aim for. At best, you will raise lukewarm interest in your lukewarm product. At worst, you will fill the Church with people who wouldn’t be there if they knew the way is narrow, and deter those who would only be there if they did. If I have spent time and digital ink on this last point, it’s because I’m serious. In any of these applications, there are some people to whom you don’t want to be relevant, and especially when it concerns the sanctification of Christ’s bride.

But, as always, that sanctification should flow out through all our endeavors, even our blogs. And yes, as a short to medium post, this is a fail. Oh well, semper reformanda and all that.

Who is my audience right now? My friends and family.
How will that audience change? Word of mouth.
Why will people talk? Because I’m writing good things for my audience (or will).

Sure, it’s not bad to write about stuff because you like it and nobody cares. It just doesn’t do that much (except maybe make you happy). I personally would like to have some other people reading what I write and caring about it.

So I must write for the audience I have. That’s the only way to change and grow our audience it seems to me.

I write because I have things to say. Probably I think these things are not immediately obvious or thought about by everyone. Or perhaps some things are merely simple reminders or a fresh view on something.

I write publicly to share. To share my thoughts, to provoke contemplation and discussion.¹

I write to practice. One can often become discouraged comparing themselves to those they admire (for me, famous bloggers who write well like John Gruber, Anil Dash, etc. Not that I’m particularly a fan of those two, but it’s a culture and medium I like). But of course, one only becomes better at an art by doing it, and so I am here.

I write because I think what I write is worth reading. I don’t write copy. I write content (or try). No content = no post (with minor exceptions). Even if I do just “come up” with posts instead of them coming to me.

Why a blog? It’s linear. It’s a story. It’s a continuous outlet. Unlike some other types of publications, there is one thing it’s not, though: predictably published, something I like. It may have a pace, a predictable rhythm of sorts, but not a schedule per se. It’s a bit more freeflow that way.

I write because I want people to read what I write. I want them to laugh or think or be sad. I want them to be affected. Isn’t that why everybody writes, to affect? Even if it’s a textbook, the idea is to change by adding knowledge and know-how. What are blog comments then? Responses. And (see the footnote), if I disable comments, people who really feel strongly about what I have written might take up the pen themselves. It’s about effect, or at least it should be, more than comments or page views. If it has no effect, what is its worth?

And thus I want some readers, because that means people who keep coming back to hear what I say, and thus can be affected. Therefore, I should be worth it. Like I said before, no content, no post.

As per Merlin Mann’s description of a good blog, I think the posts will mostly be about technology and spiritual/life issues, things which I think about somewhat often. The relevant quote:

Good blogs are the product of “Attention times Interest.” A blog shows me where someone’s attention tends to go. Then, on some level, they encourage me to follow the evolution of their interest through a day or a year. There’s a story here. Ethical “via” links make it easy for me to follow their specific trail of attention, then join them for a walk made out of words.

And there’s just a little bit more. I shall do my very best to write good, thoughtful posts.

Good blog posts are made of paragraphs. Blog posts are written, not defecated. They show some level of craft, thinking, and continuity beyond the word count mandated by the Owner of Your Plantation. If a blog has fixed limits on post minimums and maximums? It’s not a blog: it’s a website that hires writers. Which is fine. But, it’s not really a blog.

I don’t know what they will all specifically be about. I guess I’ll just have to note things along down the way, come up with ideas, and write. Even if it’s garbage at first.

That is all. (Oh yes, and expect a post or few in the next 13 days. If not, send somebody to dispatch me.)

Thoughts on this subject have been mulling around for some while in the deep recesses of my brain, but they really came to a head this weekend. I was up in Moscow visiting my brother hanging out in Bucer’s (of course) and I got in to a discussion with Matthew’s roommate, friend, and Austen-lover Isaac Madsen. Through the course of the discussion he pointed out how much he disliked authors like Charles Dickens and Elizabeth Gaskell, but loved Jane Austen. Perhaps his reasons for disliking them are different than mine, but I know that I have always enjoyed Austen better as well. (I don’t as strongly dislike Dickens though, and I actually enjoy Gaskell). In my opinion, the greatest difference is one of flavor.

Dickens and Gaskell (to a lesser degree) flavor their works with tragedy, sorrow, pain, suffering, despair and overall bleakness. Austen, while tinting her pieces with hints of grief, really has a much more positive and upbeat view of life to the point of possibly bordering on the sentimental. Sentimentalism is something which I have come to strongly dislike. Whether it be manifested in the flowery artwork of Thomas Kinkade or the cheesy WWJD bracelets I just can’t stand it.

Here, I think is Austen’s pitfall. She tends to write in a rather fanciful style. Pleasant, enjoyable, romantic, sweet? Yes. Realistic? Not so much. I do not mean to discredit her as a writer and I fully admit to being a Jane Austen fan. BUT, I can get too much of her. I can overdose on her dream-like fairy tales. When the characters have to face no worse tragedy than being uninvited to a ball, being snubbed by the prideful rich, being forced to endure the ridiculous proposals of men they do not love…what is there to relate to? Granted there are occasionally real difficulties to overcome, but nonetheless, one cannot help feeling there is something lacking to her “reality.” Every once in a while, one can enjoy getting away from the mundane routines of life, forget the petty trials of the day and immerse oneself in the romantic world of Jane Austen, but it is not without fault (despite what Isaac may say).

However, back to the original subject: why is Austen better than Charles Dickens? Dickens tends to fall into the other ditch…and not just a little bit. He plunges whole-heartedly, almost gleefully into misery and despair. He delights to portray the lowest strata of life in their worst garments. He paints characters in such bleakness and sorrow as to destroy any fanciful notion of hope remaining in his poor reader. Is this just? To be sure, the world is a fallen place and it has it’s share of tragedy, sin and darkness, but such despairing and tragic stories are not what I consider pleasure reading. I will admit to Dickens having his moments of light, just as Austen had her flashes of reality. I can honestly say that I enjoy “A Christmas Carol” and some parts of his other works, but on the whole, one cannot help feeling oppressed and depressed by the gloom which characterizes the greater part of his books.

All this to say, Austen is a phenomenal writer, but with a tendency to slight sentimentalism, which in too large a dose can be overbearing. Dickens, probably a good enough writer in his own way, is too much gloom, depression and darkness to be seriously healthy reading. So, is there a middle ground?

In my own opinion, Les Miserables by Victor Hugo is an excellent example of reality mixed with romanticism, despair and tragedy mingled with hope, goodness and beauty. Elizabeth Gaskell is far nearer this medium than Dickens, especially in her excellent book Wives and Daughters. Austen is only slightly misplaced and there are many other authors who strike a good balance.

The purpose of this post is not to tell you not to read certain books or to read other ones, but really, my point is that to be a really good work of art (in any sense of the word; book, painting, etc) there must be an expression of sadness, sin and evil…otherwise the observer has nothing to relate to. But there must also be an element of hope and redemption which Dickens missed in so much of his work. This is necessary to the good piece of art work, because it tells our story to us. It does not deny sin and suffering, but declares to a fallen world that there is hope. Even a picture or a book with no intentional Christian message, by portraying this dichotomy of sin and redemption, paints the gospel story with more clarity than a Precious Moments “love your neighbor” scene or a plastic Jesus nightlight.

Our goal is to pick up the publication pace a bit—hopefully eventually up to at least one post a week (more would be cool, too). I think taking on a couple more writers would ease this task, but I also think Matthew and I would need to step up contributing a bit, too (which may become easier in the summer after I’ve graduated high school). In the long run, our goal is to get some notice. Not really to get famous, but more to have conversations and a small community and also just to get out what comes out of our fingers and toes. It’s also a personal blog, and I want it to stay that way. It’s just some friends who like to write.

So, on to the meat of the thing. Seriously, we don’t mind people that are different than us, in fact having someone who differs somewhat from our opinions might be quite cool. We do have a few basic requirements, though:

• You are a true Christian; you believe the Gospel and don’t have any beliefs that altogether contradict it
• You are a competent writer; you don’t have to be extra stupendous, just able and willing to be creative
• You don’t mind our particular Christian beliefs, like Covenant theology
• You are willing and able to contribute regularly (take a look at the dates of previous posts to get an idea of what ‘regularly’ is right now)
• You are currently between 12 and 32 years of age. It’s not that we don’t like you if you’re older than that, it’s just that we want to run a blog written by young men and women.

Interested? Contact us. Tell us a bit about yourself if we don’t really know you. After that, probably as long as you meet the requirements and we’re all comfortable, you join us. If it’s all good after a month-and-a-half, you’re official. Think of it as an internship (LOL).

Six months after you’re officially on, you can become a partial blog administrator, if you so wish (and we’ll leave the opportunity open for any time). After maybe, say, a year and a half, we might offer you full adminship, which gives you a whole lot of power, which means we trust you a whole lot. And if you don’t want to become an admin, that’s fine too. Just offering.

March 20, 2010: We are no longer seeking new writers but we leave the possibility open for the future. And… we have three new writers! Anna Hurley has already introduced herself and I’m guessing the others will follow suit in due time. Thanks, ladies and gentleman.

I want to say my inspiration comes from Jason Kottke and Seth Godin. There’s probably some other stuff in there, too. I know Jason’s mostly an editor now in the sense that he doesn’t create most of his content, but rather points it out and comments on it. But some of his earlier stuff was more personal. And he points out such interesting stuff.

Seth Godin is a marketer. A genius, I’d say. He seems to spout a continuous stream of good stuff on his blog. And it’s not cheesy. I don’t know that he’s a Christian, but he has an ethic that really appeals to me as a Christian: hard work, innovation, courage, and that sort of thing. And his posts usually aren’t all that long.

So, I think I have some stuff to say worth saying here that I could put in a somewhat similar format. The question is, with Matthew not posting an equivalent amount (not necessarily a bad thing), am I going to be posting too much? (For what? Fairness? Equality? My own good?). That’s the question I wish to ask Matthew and all you who read this.

What say you?

First, I’m a little bit busy. I still don’t consider myself busy by the standards of some of my friends (I have hours and hours of free time, for reals), but it has picked up this year, I think.

Second, I started off this year trying to consistently read the Bible. I don’t think that reading the whole Bible in a year gives you spiritual super powers, although I do think that all of the Bible is worth reading. Also, I think the Bible is worth reading every day. The way I think about it right now is read it every day, get back to it if you missed it, don’t commit suicide or have insecurities if you don’t read the Bible in a whole year. Not that I always do all that but that’s how it’s laid out in my mind right now.

Third, I want to start working out a bit this year. I want to start out with the one hundred push ups training program. It sounds like a very doable, macho, and cool regimen. I did the test several days ago and hit 20. Sad, but it leaves a lot of room for improvement, that being the point of this paragraph. And I haven’t started yet. I blame this weekend (went to Moscow, had Collin over, went to a fireside chat (lame fire… way too low), went to a contra/square dance, went to a missions-themed Sunday School and church service today, ate at the fellowship feast afterwards, and set in on a couple videos and some Q & A. And did some clean-up following that.). That being said, I’m planning a Tue-Thur-Sat schedule for it, so we’ll see how it goes this week.

Fourth, as I think I’ve said before, I want to get some more writers writing here. But here’s the idea I want to get across: it’s not exactly volunteer but it’s not paid and it’s definitely not an internship. I think it is most easily communicated as “I just want to get some friends together and write a sweet blog. And get conversations going.” So hopefully we can get a more official (but not more formal) statement out on that in the near future.

Fifth, leading on the heels of the last para, I’m hoping good things for this blog. It’ll be awesome if we get more writers and I’m looking forward to putting some more effort into writing (I’m thinking post-graduation-from-high-school, which happens early this June). I’m thinking Senior Thesis class may have some redeeming qualities… Anyway, I want to have a discussion with Matthew sometime soon about what he thinks about the blog (past, present, future, probably with emphasis on the last).

Sixth, speaking of school… I almost want to skip this whole graduation thing. I say to myself that I’d be quite happy with a regular end of the school year and beginning of summer. I don’t really know if that’s true. However, best not to dwell on that because I really doubt I’m getting out of this. I am to have a hand in planning it, though, so I can flaunt my influence there (what value it has). And Anna and I are both hoping the other will be valedictorian. Except I think I secretly want to be valedictorian because I keep catch myself writing bits of a speech in my head. Blast.

Seventh, the 29th of December was a bit of a nice date for our family. Finally we got a decent internet connection. Stuck with dial-up for over 10 years. And then finally broadband. Fitting for 2010 I’d say. I think a post relating to the topic may be expected in the future.

I believe that’s all for now. Also, a public thanks to you, Matthew, for your well-written recent posts. While it’s true I’ve always written more posts, I have felt the quality of your posts was very often rather splendid while it was not always so much that way with mine.

Is that so bad? Maybe. It’s just that I catch myself starting to write these great posts in my head and feel guilty because it’s not spur of the moment authentic. But then, of course, planned writing isn’t bad. It’s good¹. And spontaneous writing can be good, too.

One of the bad things about this blog planning, though, is that I imagine myself writing these great posts and realize that they’re not always true, or I’m just trying to sound smart, or I want comment kudos. Being smart and getting comments isn’t at all bad – I’m just greedy and that’s bad.

What I really want is an honest, open style that doesn’t come across as terrible for being truthful and humble. Goodness, it’s human nature to try to seem more than we are, even to ourselves. Truth of the matter is, I’m not a great (as in epic, famous) writer. Please don’t let me take that to either extreme: I don’t want to be prideful about being humble and I don’t want to be prideful.

I remember when I wrote a terrible review of Paul Comon’s book on composition in photography – it sucked because I was trying to sound good and it came across as canned, tacky and cheesy. I rewrote it a little more honestly and I think it came out much better. I’m not a professional literature critic; why should I try?

And on that note, I’ve been thinking a little bit in this vein about art. Bad art does try to come across as high and mighty and make its author important and ends up being unintelligible and just dumb. Good art works hard and makes a beautiful thing with true depth. As critics of art, even amateur ones, I wonder if we sometimes try to read into art more meaning and depth than is there – obfuscate the matter with big words and complex ideas and try to sounds smart – maybe it’s bad art, maybe it’s good art that’s just not that deep; I think it could go either way.

Afterword: I’ve taken to kind of stream-of-consciousnessing in my Moleskine and am tempted to post some of these ramblings. They are somewhat spur of the moment (and riddled with crazy grammar because of it) but I’m trying to be honest with what I’m thinking and explore life and God’s world. Alright, take a deep breath, and then remember I’m probably not as sincere as I just sounded. Narcissism (def. 1), remember?