The keen eyed among you may have noticed a certain erratic quality to this blog. It ebbs and flows like a confused tide, sometimes engulfing the land with a quick succession of articles; sometimes it goes all Southport and retreats to the sea, leaving people wondering if they’ll ever see anything again.
I’m writing this in the Calf’s Head, a pub in the Lancashire village of Worston. I’m waiting for a cappucino to cool down and I’m absolutely filthy. I’ve been jetwashing the flagstones of a stately home all day and there’s a lot of damp blowback from a diesel powered jetwash.
These Tuesday moments are normally when I write my blog articles, but today I am a husk, an empty shell, bereft of ideas. Truth be told there is a reason.
A newsletter.
I keep reading articles about newsletters and how important they are for authors. Produce a newsletter, harvest those emails, build a reader base. But a newsletter must have a reason for people to subscribe to it, and that reaseon is exclusive content. If I write too much for this blog there’ll be nothing left for the newsletter.
And the articles I’ve got lined up for the newsletter are tremendous. Of course I can’t tell you what they are because you’ll have to subscribe to it. There might be chapter extras (like deleted scenes on film DVDs), competitions and hopefully exclusive interviews with very very famous people.
Thing is, a newsletter will be just one more thing that needs marketing. After all, if I can’t persuade people to read my novels how will I persuade people to read my newsletter? Being free might be the differentiating factor here! Giving stuff away might be an incentive. People like free stuff.
And thus the blog is at risk of withering on the internet vine, a mere shadow of its former greatness. A repository of asides, glib observations and holding pages for the ever-expanding TotenUniverse.
The pub is now filling up, a noisy phalanx of interlopers, but nothing like the two deafening funeral parties I’ve been trapped in on previous visits. I’m off for a Chinese take-away, an event that means nothing to me, but evidently enthralls some people on other more trivial social media sites.
Look at that; I’ve just written an entire blog post about absolutely nothing at all. Maybe it’s the start of a new trend.
The Opening Sentence 
The secret of writing about nothing is to make it interesting. A bloke who jetwashes the flagstones of a stately home has something to say, so I was immediately captivated. I was there in that pub.
Me, I’m off to the shop to buy some cat food. But I’m not going to write about it because that’s just too much of a challenge.
Cheers, Alen
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With a powerful enough jetwash it is possible to pebbeldash yourself.
Perhaps you could write about the cat food purchase using simple bullet points.
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Ha! I’ve done the same thing while waiting for people at the train station. Talking about nothing is a right of passage among writer. Consider yourself as part of the team! 😉
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I’m hoping it won’t become a habit.
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I’ll miss your blog if it fades away. Good luck with the newsletter!
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Thank you. I don’t think it’ll fade away, just change form, but I’m not sure how and I’m not sure now if the newsletter is a goer. On Tuesday I was mulling over ideas for an online magazine!
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Oh, I’m turning out to be a regular party-pooper today. In fact, I’ve reached downright downer proportions. But I’d like to point you to this blog post written by Anne R. Allen, indie guru in the US http://annerallen.blogspot.ie/2015/08/why-social-media-is-still-your-best.html. There are points in there you can take or leave I’m sure, but to me at least, she makes a lot of sense.
On another note, I feel the need to add another note, just so I’m not all doom and gloom. I’ll let you know as soon as I come up with one.
Nope, still nothing.
So, how’s the weather where you are?
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Pi**ing down.
I stopped reading the link about half way because it typified everything that’s wrong with the internet: one half says do this, the other half says don’t, and both halves are convinced they’re right and have the statistics to prove it.
After a disappointing meeting I had this morning I feel like cutting the electricty cable to the house and going back to Lego for my entertainment.
How’s the weather where you are? Hope it’s not as bad as here.
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It’s a bit gorgeous in Dublin actually. Clear. Multi-coloured leaves doing the tango, etc.
Lego is great. However, it is unfortunately not self-illuminating, so I’d recommend not cutting your power unless you’re planning on going to bed at 6.30.
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Why must it be gorgeous in Dublin? Lego can be self-illuminating if you paint it with the same stuff as the Hound of the Baskervilles. But I haven’t got any so I’ll be off to bed at 6-30 like you say.
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I’ve been thinking of doing a newsletter, but I have absolutely no idea what to put in it. Jokes, maybe? I know some good jokes.
Or, as your post reminded me of social media’s fixation on food pictures–I can just make it an endless phalanx of dinner selfies. Call it: ‘Me and My Meal’.
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Piss, Coffee and Vinegar Sandwich: What’s Between the Bread. Food for thought . . . ooh, there’s loads of food puns for a newsletter.
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Lettuce think for a minute. There are cherry many options, and I couldn’t pear to miss any.
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I’ve just looked at how to set up a newsletter in WordPress. It’s like another language, so good luck with that then if you decide to go ahead!
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I’m thinking of using a service called MailChimp. It’s free up to 2000 subscribers (and if I hit that target I’ll eat my own feet.) And then presumably there’s a widget. There’s a widget for everything these days.
I’ll launch the newsletter when I’ve got a stock of articles ready for it
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Turn ‘The Opening Sentence’ blog into ‘The Opening Sentence’ newsletter. Therein lies the solution!
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That may well be how things turn out.
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