Who’s your audience?

A writer writes for an audience. What comprises that audience is, or should be, one of the most important questions.

Are you writing for a man standing in the subway in the middle of a 15-minute journey back home after a long day at work?

Are you writing for an old lady that sits and knits at home on most days?

Are you writing for an internet-savvy person who spends 12-hours of his waking hours in front of a screen (just like you do)?

Are you writing for a professional who turns to your publication to keep abreast with the latest in his field of work?

Science writers have a tendency to say write it as you would if your grandma reads it. And yet, is she the kind of audience you are aiming to write for?

The timing of conversations

There are many types of conversations. One that concerns me today is the result of self-contemplation. During this phase, you tend to build a train of thoughts that lead to a question. The question needs to be answered, but you can’t find the answer. That’s why the need for a conversation.

For this purpose, you usually seek a person who knows you well. And these people are usually in short supply. But as unreasonable as it seems sometimes it is important to talk about something at that very moment. I don’t think I am alone in feeling this way, am I?  

The beauty of a blank page

For a writer, a blank page can be one of the most intimidating things. If he spends 10,000 hours in becoming an expert writer, then a big chunk of it tends to be spent staring at a blank page (on the screen or otherwise).

Likewise, the first sentence of an article may be the sentence that gets rewritten the most. After all, that first sentence marks the birth of a piece of writing and the end of the frustrating existence of a blank page.

But underneath all this annoyance, there lies beauty. The blank page is a world of possibilities. Some may find that overwhelming, but I find it exhilarating.

To me a blank page is like giving a sculptor the perfect chunk of stone: What is to become of it he does not know but he surely is looking forward to the end product. He knows that the hours in the middle will be spent sweating over each stroke of his hammer on the chisel, but that is the process that makes him feel alive. When the masterpiece is complete, the world will shower him with praises (or criticisms). The sculptor may find some pleasure in that, but he will have already begun looking for the next piece of stone to sculpt.

And there lies the trick: Sometimes we forget that the blank page is not just the means to an end.