One of the things this blog does for me is provide some kind of minimal accountability:
I...count things.
I count what I write, how fast I write, whether you read it, whether you like blogs with images, or blogs related to threads, or blogs in which I lose it and start rhyming rage. (Mostly, you don't like those, which motivates me to get away from it.) I count likes and comments. I count the links to threads I put in. I have a growing set of blog profiles according to what mood I was in, do I mention God in some way, the length of my sentences. (Just realized I should add the length of the blog, perhaps.) Did I link to external research. Do I write in a series.
Yes, I know I could write anything I want on my very own blog.
The problem is writing anything I want gets translated into how I want to be useful to the world. The thing that completes me and makes me happy; the only way Ubuntu can personally apply to me in the world, is the writing act. The whole world that's ever encountered me lets me be a person through other people because other people read.
Writing is solitary, but it is not selfish. I love to write, when the phrases sing like violins and I don't know what I'm thinking until I see it in front of me. But that is just style--"that fire that eats what it illuminates"--it isn't content. Content is the created object, created because loved, created by catalysis, and the catalyzer, ego, disappears into the creative act.
Counting Things Will Make Me Better -- If I Know What to Count
Counting is what makes deliberate practice--the only attribute that reliably makes anyone better at anything--measurable.
And now I'm finally grappling with some Excel features I don't often play with, because nobody ever asks for them. Now I need to know: what makes some posts so successful here? And how do they compare to other things I've written? Is there anything unusual about writing for an aspie audience?
View attachment 17892
I like doing things like this: "How many posts that have over 29 views are also linked in a series?" The technical question masks the ones I'm actually interested in:
And everyone gets to opt out of diving deeper. I've learned there are places I don't go alone. We are all Dante, and perhaps the central identity for the aspie existence is that so many of us are looking for Virgil.
- It's part of my daily writing regimen.
- I can't just write blah blah blah. If I'm going to blah, it has to blah about something. I mean, I do think about you, Reader. (Gentle Reader, if you're an Isaac Asimov fan.) Sometimes I rate what I want over that...as AC promises, this is "my very own blog." So I can be selfish. But the selfishness wears off, except when I'm very needy, because...
- ...the blog isn't just my bullhorn. It provides fodder for one of my Special Interests, one I'm almost embarrassed to admit to, except that it could turn into a transferrable skill and help me out of my work funk.
I...count things.
I count what I write, how fast I write, whether you read it, whether you like blogs with images, or blogs related to threads, or blogs in which I lose it and start rhyming rage. (Mostly, you don't like those, which motivates me to get away from it.) I count likes and comments. I count the links to threads I put in. I have a growing set of blog profiles according to what mood I was in, do I mention God in some way, the length of my sentences. (Just realized I should add the length of the blog, perhaps.) Did I link to external research. Do I write in a series.
Yes, I know I could write anything I want on my very own blog.
The problem is writing anything I want gets translated into how I want to be useful to the world. The thing that completes me and makes me happy; the only way Ubuntu can personally apply to me in the world, is the writing act. The whole world that's ever encountered me lets me be a person through other people because other people read.Writing is solitary, but it is not selfish. I love to write, when the phrases sing like violins and I don't know what I'm thinking until I see it in front of me. But that is just style--"that fire that eats what it illuminates"--it isn't content. Content is the created object, created because loved, created by catalysis, and the catalyzer, ego, disappears into the creative act.
Counting Things Will Make Me Better -- If I Know What to Count
Counting is what makes deliberate practice--the only attribute that reliably makes anyone better at anything--measurable.
And now I'm finally grappling with some Excel features I don't often play with, because nobody ever asks for them. Now I need to know: what makes some posts so successful here? And how do they compare to other things I've written? Is there anything unusual about writing for an aspie audience?
View attachment 17892
I like doing things like this: "How many posts that have over 29 views are also linked in a series?" The technical question masks the ones I'm actually interested in:
- Does it make a difference to tell a story over several blogs?
- Must a blog always be an essay--which I think of as a standalone piece?
- What distinguishes the most-viewed content?
- Content ages, but as Brent said, the site's stats are up. Do readers stay? Do new readers come?
- Is Nadador right in supposing deep conversation is a social liability?
- If a person is a person through other people, what does it mean that deep conversation can be a social liability?
And everyone gets to opt out of diving deeper. I've learned there are places I don't go alone. We are all Dante, and perhaps the central identity for the aspie existence is that so many of us are looking for Virgil.
