These posts have now reached the legal drinking age. Not that I would let them partake of the devil water.
You know how — when you think about doing something — your first thought is “That sounds fun; I mean, how hard could it be?”
Well, let me tell you, it’s not easy writing these blurbs every day. OK, OK, it’s not every day as I write these ahead of time, but you get the idea.
In a previous blurb, I mentioned I wouldn’t mind being a cartoonist. I said that because I thought it would be fun to draw and come up with funny jokes.
But, think about it . . . if it’s a job, if you have to produce jokes every day for years and years . . . how much fun would it be? That’s why I respect the work of the writers of my favorite strips. They need to be part psychologists (knowing how the mechanics of jokes and humor interact with the human brain), part sociologist (they have to know the limits of humor within the context of their society), part educators (they teach people to look at common scenes, topics, or objects in new ways), part populists (can’t make the jokes so smart that no one laughs at them), and be funny.
Here’s what makes their job even tougher . . . it’s one thing if someone reads or sees your work at specific intervals. It’s another if someone reads a collection of your work. Or, if someone saves a whole month’s worth of funnies and then reads them all in the span of a few hours.
The bar moves and it’s usually raised. Meaning, for something to be considered funny amid a larger number of other stuff that’s also funny, it now has to be more so.
This happens with everything. For instance, I’ve noticed it with my photos and I suspect it’s a major reason why blogs with one or two photos get effusive comments on their offerings even when the photos themselves are not all that great.
Of course, I’m not referring to blogs I read or the blogs of my readers. Oh, no; all of your photos are great and worthy of all that praise that can be piled onto them.
I, on the other hand, tend to author blogs posts that have anywhere from twenty to a hundred photos. These are typically photos that I’ve already deemed worthy of publication.
Here’s what I noticed . . . if, for instance, I take a photo I’ve published before and showcase it in a new post all by its lonesome, that photo will have more praise heaped on it than it originally received when mixed in with others. In fact, it may seem to many as if it’s a new photo.
I’m not just saying this out of the blue . . . this has repeatedly happened whenever I recycle photos.
And now, a photo:
For instance, the above photo has a greater chance of being remembered because it’s here on its own than if I published it in a post with twenty or more other photos.
What’s the magic number, you ask? What’s the exact relationship between the number of photos and the appreciation for an individual photo?
I think that anything more three photos is when the attention begins to waver. By the way, the same is true for words. Anything after a few hundred words and people start “skipping” or scanning the offering. So, for instance, THIS post has what I consider many great photos (to be clear, I like all my photos so I’m likely to think them all great).
But, two problems . . . one, the photos themselves require a better platform than WordPress offers (hence why I always suggest going to SmugMug) and, two, unless one takes the time to really examine them, they all blend in.
In fairness to readers, even if the reader finds each photo amazing, there are just too many to mention individually.
So, where am I going with this? Nowhere; I just felt like writing some words. Words most readers skipped.
By the way, a peripheral reason for the shorter attention span is one oft-mentioned . . . the sheer amount of media content one is bombarded with.
This is why I often consider “likes” as little white lies. It’s easy, after all, to click “like” even if you don’t particularly like what is presented. Often, it’s easier to just click on “like” than to actually look at photos or read words.
For the record, I used to hit “like” to indicate I’ve been there and looked at whatever is offered.
I’ve stopped doing that because it cheapens its value. If I visit and I’m not “taken” with what’s offered, I’ll not leave a “like.”
It doesn’t mean I hated it. I mean, let’s face it; no one posts crap but just because something is nice it doesn’t mean it impresses me.
In that regard, I want my “likes” to mean that not only I was there, but found the material of interest.
Here’s the hierarchy, especially these days when my time reading blogs has become significant:
Visit only: I come to your site and I read something that holds little interest. I might scan the material or glance at the photos but nothing grabs me. Since there’s no “Kilroy was here” button, I just leave. Again, it doesn’t mean it’s crap; I just wasn’t interested in it.
Give a “Like”: I come to your site, read every word, look at the photos and generally enjoy the few moments spent in your world but don’t have anything relevant to say or add.
Leave a Comment: I come to your site and read your post or look at your photo and it makes an impression. Be it something I’d not seen before or a fresh look at something familiar, I find it not just enjoyable, but engaging. I want to participate, either by expressing admiration or sharing my own experience. Depending on my reaction, I might live a one-word comment like “Nice” or go for broke and leave a dissertation that sounds like a cry for attention (but isn’t).
That’s how I would like my readers to treat my material. I doubt many do. Many “likes” appear perfunctory and tossed out with no forethought, especially when I get “likes” for six or seven of my posts within a 30-seconds timeframe.
WordPress really needs a button that says “I was here but my mind was elsewhere.”
Anyway, I’ve long passed the point where most readers are still reading, so I’ll wrap this up with the doodle.
And . . . that’s it
Some of these posts will likely be longer as the mood hits me, but most will be thus; short, uninteresting, bland, and relentless.
You can read about Project 313 HERE.
That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.
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Please, if you are considering bestowing me recognition beyond commenting below, refrain from doing so. I will decline blogger-to-blogger awards. I appreciate the intent behind it, but I prefer a comment thanking me for turning you away from a life of crime, religion, or making you a better person in some other way. That would mean something to me.
If you wish to know more, please read below.
Note: to those who may click on “like”, or rate the post; if you do not hear from me, know that I am sincerely appreciative, and I thank you for noticing what I do.
. . . my FP ward . . . chieken shit.
Finally, if you interpret anything on this blog as me asking or wanting pity, sympathy, or complaining about my life, or asking for help and advice, know you’re likely missing my subtle mix of irony, sarcasm, and humor.