Tag Archives: old man

The second one makes you or breaks you

People are nice. They’ll give you the benefit of the doubt; they’ll indulge you at first. But cybertime is money, and no one is going to be spending any on you if your product doesn’t deliver. Life is too short– until someone figures out how to reduce everything to emoticons. Then we’ll have time to relax and enjoy communication. Until then, don’t waste my time.

So the first post is a freebie. People will glance it over. People will cut you some slack. But the second post! The second post is really the point where they figure you out, and if you’ve got nothing to show for it, they’ll drop you like last hour’s viral. This isn’t some friendly, quaint croquet game where the two little old ladies playing aren’t even bothering to keep score because that would take all the fun out of it. You can’t spell ‘f u n’ with ‘i n t e r n e t.’ Well, only the ‘n,’ but that doesn’t make any sense.

My second post has to enrapture. It has to transfix. Only I’ve just read over my first post and am really concerned with how much I put out there for everyone to see. A) why would I really want to do that? Why would I want to tell the world that I don’t know what I’m doing? and B) Why the hell would anyone care? And there’s a C), too: do I honestly believe that I’m the first person to say any of this at the beginning of his or her blogging career? Be honest, you’re groaning right now because you’re reading the same goofy fears again, the same silly observations. You wish I’d do my homework before opening up my big mouth and just read a few other blogs out there. It’s called professionalism.

Well, I’m starting to get the idea that my second post isn’t enrapturing, but at least I can shift the blame a little– one of the few things I actually am a bit skilled at. Earlier today, when my friend Anne was secretly forcing me to become a blogger, she explained that lots of people will visit the blog right away and that I can’t wait to think about what I’m writing– I just have to write! Now!

So that’s what I’m doing, and may god have mercy on me. Anne didn’t. She told me about how when she started her blog, she had 50 people a day for the first week– and then things got real. So she insisted that I get five posts up and running before I did anything else. I don’t even remember the last time I ate anything, and I still have three to go.

Anyway, what I figure I will do is cut and paste the first chapter of my book in one of these posts, so that people will have an idea of what I’ve got to offer. Anne warned not to do this too early, so I’ll probably drop the bomb more toward my fourth or fifth post. Kind of like lulling you into a false sense of security.

And that’s just going to have to be my second post. You’re welcome.

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Filed under The first trimester

I remember the good old days

Here it is: the first post. I feel dizzy.

Pressure has a way of doing that to me. Why, you ask? Why panic about a silly little blog? There are billions of them out there, and no one’s died yet as a direct result of blog-related stress. So why don’t I just take a deep breath and write ‘whatever?’

Well, that would be great if I just wanted to share my personal thoughts with the cyberverse or uniweb or whatever it is I should call it to indicate that I know what I’m doing. But I don’t. Still, I’ve been assured that keeping a blog is incredibly easy. I just have to dazzle the reader because I only get one chance. And blowing this one chance means that I’ll be forgotten by the world before I’ve even figured out exactly what blogging is all about.

Oh, and readers want something they can use, too, something that adds value to their lives, so no whining or blatant self-promotion or talking about how cute my cat is. In order to survive, I’ve got to provide a service– and a unique one at that. There have been one or two bloggers before me, apparently, and they’ve already grabbed all the best schticks. Of course, on top of all that, I have to make sure that anyone who might enjoy my book will get enough information about it to be able to get their hands on it. Yeah. Incredibly easy.

I woke up this morning believing that I would take the first step of most endeavors: a plan. And this plan would include investigating the many ways that I can market my book over the Internet. You know, dip my toe in the water. So I wrote up a brief plan of action, and honest to god, I have cut and pasted it for your reading pleasure:

Plan for My Heart is a Drummer

1.            Develop name for company

2.            Check database to ensure it’s not taken.

3.            buy ISBN numbers

4.            talk to Anne re: blog, twitter, facebook

5.            Register domain name for company

6.            start blog, twitter, facebook

7.            get book print ready at Lulu & publish

8.            get book ready for Apple and publish

9.            start marketing campaign

a.            build website

b.            begin blogging, twitting, facebooking

c.             contact local bookstores, local book clubs

Let me direct you to a couple of points. Please note #1, which requires that I have a name for the publishing company I’d like to found in order to get my work out there. I still don’t have #1 covered. I don’t have a name or anything. But why worry? It’s just the first day of the process. I have control.

Now kindly direct your attention to #4, ‘talk to Anne.’ Anne is a dear friend of mine who knows all about blogging (I will insert her blog name if and when I learn how to do that). I called her up to make sure that I was including all the new media outlets I would need on my list so that when I typeset  the book for publishing, I could include the Web addresses on the front page and back cover somewhere. Because that’s what you do in 2012.

Only my social skills are not from 2012. They’re from 1997. They don’t include online media (as evidenced by #9b: begin ‘twitting’). Apparently, that’s wrong.

So when Anne had me go to wordpress.com and twitter.com, before I knew it, I was a blogging tweeter. It was all over before I knew what was happening, kind of like ripping off a band-aid, only I have a feeling that this band-aid is really long and will continually and painfully be ripped off of me for the foreseeable future.

So this blog will be a chronicle of that band-aid rip– and right from the very first moment. Which this is.

Welcome to my disorientation. Hope you enjoy the show.


Filed under The first trimester