For Karla Johnson
You ask how I’ve managed to keep writing this blog for six years. My three books and other publications are misleading: until the blog I was never a consistent writer. I read obsessively about writer work systems: a page a day, said García Márquez, don’t leave the desk until that happens. Only a page! Yet I never achieved it. Jobs, careers, bad marriages, children. The usual suspects. For most of my life, I endured long wordless droughts.
The blog came into being when children were grown and gone, when I’d retired from full-time teaching. Even then, I was apprehensive: commit to write on a regular basis? Would I? Did I dare? Prufrockian doubts.
But externally-imposed deadlines have always worked for me: give me a deadline and I’ll meet it, even though my favorite quote on the subject is by Douglas Adams: “I love deadlines. I love the wooshing sound they make as they fly by.” My internal deadlines wooshed by with little to show for their passing. The public nature of the blog made the deadline external in my mind. A meandering way of saying: Karla, that’s how I managed it.
Before beginning, I went through existing writing—memoir sketches, bits of humor, half-done pieces on translation and teaching. I drafted enough for a few months, tried to be realistic: two posts a month, 800 words average. My admonition to you: set modest goals, something you’re confident you can achieve. Many writers post weekly. I’d be setting myself up for failure if I tried to do that.
My foremost mission was to prove to myself that I could write on a regular basis. What will your personal mission be for your blog? To promote your books may not be personal enough to keep you doing it. Think through your own motivation before you begin.
One of my trusted readers said, after a year, “the writing is getting better.” I was gratified to hear it, but—of course. How do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice, practice. At the same time, I was increasing my literary translation work, which also made me a more astute and confident editor of my own work. No essay gets posted here without undergoing five to seven drafts, the last few read aloud.
Consistency and improved writing are two benefits of the blog. A third is I’ve now got a plethora of material: 150 pieces of writing I wouldn’t otherwise have, in categories like humor, teaching, politics, writing, memoir and literary translation.
Another of my readers thinks I should make a Kindle book of the memoir pieces. The blog has about 30 of those, probably 25,000 words. The editor of a small press may be interested in a chapbook collection of the essays on translation, of which there are 15. I’ve got nearly 450 followers, a modest number, but not bad for the minimal marketing I’ve done, and 450 more readers than I had before. Several writers have linked to my blog on theirs and vice versa.
You ask if the blog helps me sell books, if I’ve monetized it, as current lingo puts it. No. Exactly two books have been sold because of the blog. But neither have I promoted the books on the blog, or finished putting up my Amazon author page, or linked my blog there. (Professor sets bad example, Karla, sorry.) Having a website and blog, even if you are active in them, is not enough if your goal is to sell books. Few will notice your little sapling in the vast forest of websites and blogs, no matter how well and often you write on it unless you launch some of the other marketing we’ve learned about in this course.
As I’m sure you’ve surmised, I’ve been a reluctant participant in the business side of writing. When I was asked to teach this course, I hoped doing so would motivate me to practice what I preach. I did send off four new submissions during the class. I’ve put an Amazon author page on my to-do list. But the bottom line, Karla, for all of us: if we don’t have work to sell, what’s the point of an author page?
You ask about my motivation to keep the blog going. After all, its results have been modest. But it has become second nature, an essential component of my practice as a writer. Often, readers tell me a post pleases or touches them. That matters too. Still, every month I fear I won’t have an idea for the next post. Then one appears, like now, like this, in answer to your questions.
Thank you, Pat, as always your essays are such a pleasure to read.
I ask myself almost every day why I blog… the answers evolve with the years…. and meanwhile, I am still at it. One thing that keeps me going is the inspiration of other blogs, very especially yours.
So grand, to get two glowing responses from two writers, C.M. Mayo and Joe Hutchison, whose writing I admire so much! Thank you both.
This is a wonderful post, Pat. Honest, helpful, revealing, beautifully written. I do think you should pull pieces together. The memoir posts are tantalizing. I think of Ted Kooser’s lovely Local Wonders, which I would guess is longer; but if you took what you have and filled in, bridged, the various parts, oh my. I’d buy it! And much more. But then, of course, you’d have to wrestle with the Internal Angel, who is waiting for who knows what to get his/her act together. Maybe this is it—what your Angel has been waiting for. As a devoted reader, I’m waiting too, just so’s you know….
Thanks, Pat. That reading out loud part of the drafting process is so important, whether in poetry or your finely crafted prose—how does it flow in sound—such an important test.
Lovely and inspiring! Thanks, Pat.