Category: Blog (Page 20 of 25)

What’s the Purpose of a Blog, Anyway?

Blogger

As part of the responsibilities of my job, I work on our company blog. I look for new bloggers, I edit the blogs we receive, and I map out our schedule. Since we post three times a week, we get a lot of blogs from a lot of different writers.

Among those numerous blogs, it’s amazing to see how many read more like sales pitches. The writers understand their products well, they know how to write, and they’re clearly intelligent people. The issue is, they seem to think that the purpose of a blog can be summed up in three words: “Buy my product!”

A good blog shouldn’t just be a sales pitch. A good blog should stand on its own as an interesting and readable piece of content. A good blog informs first, sells second.

So let’s say you’re an indie author who’s trying to sell your book. It’s tempting to pretty much only blog about the book—reviews, preliminary sales, your inspiration for writing it, all that.

But I would argue that that’s not a great way to handle your blog.

In my experience with content management, when bloggers just blab about their product, no one reads it. The bounce rate for this type of content (the percentage of people coming to the webpage and immediately leaving) tends to skyrocket. Or people just don’t read it at all. And it certainly doesn’t increase sales.

So if you’re trying to sell a product, what’s the point of blogging at all?

First of all, you can’t expect your blog to directly convert sales from every visitor. It just doesn’t work that way. The real purpose of a good blog is to build awareness about your brand (which is you, the writer). A good blog can establish you as an expert in the field, or at least as a pretty knowledgable guy or gal. Also, it’s one of the absolute best ways to get people coming back to your website, which in turn increases your chances of making a sale.

Now that’s not to say that you can’t add some hard sells. Just be careful with them, and use them sparingly. The biggest turn off for any prospective blog reader is constant requests to buy a product.

Try adding a call to action for your book in the sidebar, right where someone will see it when they read your blog. Oftentimes this is a much more effective form of marketing because you’re illustrating the value of your product rather than just saying, “Hey. You should buy this.” Kind of like showing instead of telling. If you write good content, your blog shows people that you have talent as a writer rather than just telling them to buy your book.

That said, don’t be disappointed if your blog doesn’t lead to direct sales. It’s not too often that someone will come to a site, read a blog, and then directly convert to a sale right then and there. You’ll usually find that customers discover your website from a search engine or social media (always share your blogs!), read it over, then maybe explore the rest of your site, just to get a feel for who you are.

And then they’ll probably leave. But that doesn’t mean they won’t be back!

Since there are so many products out there to spend money on, most people need something like ten to twelve positive interactions with a brand before they buy. So, on average, you can expect people to return to your site at least that many times before buying your book.

Blogging, like most worthwhile endeavors, requires patience. Your blog brings visitors to your site on a consistent basis, which increases your chances of making a sale in the future. It exposes readers to your writing when they might not otherwise have found it. For writers, blogs are also invaluable for building your mechanics and your credibility with your audience.

And, regardless of whether or not you’re trying to sell anything, blogging is an excuse to write. What could be better than that?

Five Cool Tools for Writers

Writer

Writing is hard.

It’s not just the actual process. Sure, that’s hard, but then there’s the editing that comes afterward, all the planning beforehand, all the hours spent trying to stay organized. And then there’s the matter of just getting your work in front of folks.

Sure, writing is hard. But luckily, like any difficult job, you can use tools to help. Here are five that I’ve found personally beneficial.

Scrivener

If you’re writing a novel, this might be some of the very best software imaginable. Scrivener allows you to do so much. You can set up a cork board to see your story from a high level. You can rearrange chapters at will, plus pack all your extra scenes into the same file as your main chapters. For the indie writers out there, you can export your completed draft directly to e-reader-compatible formats. It’s like its own writing toolbox.

I will say that I think it’s a little much for short stories. After all, you probably don’t need character profile sections if you’ve only got one or two characters. Still, it’s the perfect solution for novel writers.

A New Keyboard

If you write on a computer, I highly recommend finding a keyboard that you really like. Having the right keyboard allows you to type faster and with more precision (and also without fear of breaking keys during those exciting scenes). Nice keyboards make more of a difference than you might realize, and they’re also pretty darn cheap.

Mine, for example, is a USB hookup from Logitech. Picked it up at Target for ten bucks. The keys are big and sturdy—works for me since I can become an aggressive typer, on occasion. My Mac keyboard feels a little fragile in comparison.

A Whiteboard

There’s so much you can do with a whiteboard. You can storyboard on it, you can put inspirational quotes on it, you can write random ideas on it. You can doodle on it, if you’re feeling bored. I myself use my whiteboard for keeping track of my goals for the day.

Hang your whiteboard in your work area for easy accessibility. Lucky for me, mine’s actually attached to my desk. When a great idea pops into your noggin, you’ll want to write it down before it goes anywhere. Getting up to find a writing implement might break your concentration. Keep your whiteboard close so you can stay focused.

A Blog

Blogs aren’t physical tools, but they do give readers a reason to come back to your site consistently. This might be getting too much into marketing and sales, but if you have people returning to your site consistently, that means they’ll see your books more often, and that they’ll be more likely to buy. Plus, if you have a good blog, it serves as a sample of your product. People are more likely to buy your writing if they like what they’ve read from you already.

Also, blogging is great practice for any writer, even if you’re primarily writing fiction. You’ll be surprised at how much your writing improves when you simply commit to blogging once a week.

Also, blogging is fun.

A Writer’s Group

Though writers are often thought of as solitary people, you’ll find that few work completely alone; pretty much every writer works with other people to make their stuff better.

That’s why you need people you trust to look at your work and evaluate it honestly. Joining a writer’s group is the perfect way to find those people. They know how to help make your work better because they’ve probably struggled with the same issues.

I found my current group through Meetup, but there are plenty of other ways to discover fellow writers. Try Facebook or the classic Google search. There are even online communities, such as Scribophile, which allow you to critique and have your work critiqued from anywhere. Full disclosure: I’ve never used this service before, but good to know that it’s available.

Bonus Cool Tool for Writers: Coffee

This one needs no explanation.

Writers Are More Normal Than Movies Would Have You Believe

Writer

Do you know any writers? Do you absolutely hate those people?

I ask because of a film I recently watched called Stuck In Lovea film which essentially posits that all writers are dark, moody substance abusers, and way smarter than you’ll ever be. Or, more generally, the kind of people nobody likes.

The brief rundown: a family of writers struggles with the ups and downs of being in love. There’s Bill Borgens, played by Greg Kinnear, a brilliant writer who hasn’t written anything since his wife Erica, Jennifer Connelly, left him (unsurprising). And then there’s his daughter Sam, played by Lily Collins, whose only two topics of conversation are death and herself. And then his son Rusty, played by Nat Wolff, whose most notable traits are loving Stephen King, wearing hoodies, and being sad all the time.

This movie could’ve been interesting. Instead, you just end up hating everyone.

Why? Because every character is cynical, moody, and generally unlikeable. No one talks about anything that real people would talk about. Instead, it’s all this philosophical esoterica that’s just meant to make the audience nod their heads and say, “Wow. These characters are so brilliant.” Or to just make us all feel dumb.

Sam, for example, has her first novel published at the age of nineteen. Okay, not completely impossible, but neither the actress nor the script convinced me to suspend my disbelief.

Also, Bill’s solution to missing his wife is to spy on her through the window whenever he happens to pass by (which is about thirty times, give or take). How is that a logical solution to the problem? Oh right, they’re writers. They’re too brilliant for us mortals to understand.

And whenever Rusty gets depressed about anything (which is all the time—the kid’s such a moper), his dad loudly asserts, “You’re a writer.” As if he should expect to be mopey all the time, like an occupational hazard. As if you can’t be a writer unless you’re unhappy.

The worst part about a movie like this, for me, is that it separates writers from normal people. The folks behind this movie seem to think that writers are, as a rule, douchebags. Yet I know a lot of writers, and the majority of them are perfectly pleasant, normal people. They aren’t misunderstood masterminds, they don’t talk about existentialism every second. Most writers I know are just people.

And I’m not just talking about my friends, here. David Mitchell, author of Cloud Atlas, happens to have a stammer when he talks. Virginia Woolfe was so good at cricket that her family began to call her, “The Demon Bowler.” Also, Stephen King’s favorite band is the decidedly unartistic AC/DC. They’re great writers, sure, but when you look past the work, you find normal people.

I’m not sure I can say anything more about this movie without puking, so let me just say this: give writers a chance. We’re not all annoying assholes. Most are pretty cool people.

A Place Where You Can Focus

My Desk

I’m going to take a few minutes of your time to talk about my desk. It’s the kind of desk that needs to be talked about. At length, preferably.

My desk has a smooth, dark wood finish, one large drawer where I keep my computer, another on the side for headphones, my hard drive, and other random items. Above that is a whole shelving unit, upon which I’ve stacked some of my favorite books, and, for some reason, a calculator. My desk also has a whiteboard, perfect for writing down tasks for the coming week, along with the occasional inspirational quote. Up there now: “I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don’t let anybody tell you different.” Kurt Vonnegut said that.

Why should I care about this guy’s desk? you might be asking yourself. First, because it’s the greatest desk of all time (thanks, Sara, for the great gift). Second, because if you’re trying to write, it’s important to have a place where you can sit down and actually write. 

There’s a lot of research to suggest that your surroundings often dictate your behavior. For example, if you get in bed at night and stare at your computer for an hour, you might find it hard to sleep. That’s because your body now expects to go on the computer when it’s bedtime, not sleep. By contrast, if you use your bed primarily for sleeping, you probably won’t have any issues falling asleep.

The same applies to writing. If you enter a space which you sometimes use for writing and sometimes use for something else, it’s easy to get distracted.

Before I had my desk, I used to do my writing at my kitchen table or on my couch. But the kitchen table is where I eat, and the couch is where my girlfriend and I watch TV shows after work. After a while, I found that when I sat at the table, I wanted to eat breakfast more than I wanted to write. And when I sat on the couch, I didn’t feel like writing—I just felt like watching TV.

But when I sit at the chair at my desk—a roller chair, by the way, which is the coolest kind of chair there is—I’m not in the mindset to have breakfast or watch TV. The only thing I do at my desk is write, so that puts me in the mindset of writing.

Do you need a writing desk? No, not necessarily. (Though if you do get one, I recommend the Micke from Ikea. That’s what I got and, if you haven’t noticed, I think it’s pretty baller.)

I think the salient idea here is to create a space where you only write. That could be a particular room in your house, or maybe a particular coffee shop. Wherever it is, make it your writing space. You’ll be pleased with the results.

Some Things to Remember When Rejection Gets Us Down

Pencil Eraser

I don’t mean to sound morose or anything, but writing and rejection might as well be the same word. Writejection? Yeah, that’s it.

It’s hard not to get discouraged. It’s hard to work on a manuscript for months or in some cases years, only to have an agent send back a form rejection without even really reading it.

But that’s alright. In fact, we shouldn’t let writejection get us down. We should use it to do better.

Point A: writers need to write a lot of crap before writing anything worth publishing. I’ve literally never heard of anyone publishing their first attempt at a novel. Even an author’s debut novel isn’t really their first; they’ve probably written a bunch more before that one that just weren’t good enough for anyone to read. For context, Stephen King wrote about five novels that didn’t get published before Carrie and Brandon Sanderson wrote around ten before Elantris, his first wide release. That’s the hard truth of writing: the first manuscripts we write are practice, and nothing more.

But that’s okay. No one uses everything they write. Many writers write entire backstories for their characters, or subplots that never go anywhere, or just cool little scenes that are fun, but don’t really move the plot forward. Writing is just like any skill: it’s the work that people don’t see that makes it great.

And another thing to remember about work from pro writers: they write gross first drafts, too. It doesn’t matter who writes them—they are, by their very nature, gross. But remember, we never see first drafts from pro authors. We only read the finished product, which has gone through countless iterations. If you don’t believe me, believe Ernest Hemingway, who said, “I rewrote the ending of Farewell to Arms, the last page of it, 39 times before I was satisfied.”

But here’s maybe the most important rule of all: even the best writers have been rejected just as much as we have.

This all might sound terribly daunting, and I suppose it is. But don’t let it get you down. I mean, if you really want to be a writer, would you want it to be easy? It wouldn’t be worth anything if it was. We have to work hard, we have to write every day, we have to earn those rejections before we can really get anywhere. And that’s how it should be. That’s how we know that what we’re doing is really worth doing.

So when we’re just collecting rejections, there’s only one thing we can do. Today, let’s write something better than we wrote yesterday.

What’s the Deal With Serial Killers in Pop Culture?

GravestoneSo my girlfriend and I tried watching American Horror Story this season.

…And we didn’t get very far.

Without spoiling anything, the pilot begins with an L.A.P.D detective investigating a string of grisly murders, ostensibly committed by the same person. A serial killer.

Of course it’s a serial killer. Of course the crime involves gratuitous brutality that no one would actually have time for, plus some artificial ritualistic element. I don’t think the killer leaves a note, but hell, what self-respecting serial killer doesn’t taunt the cops a little?

This is nothing new, of course. Here’s a short list of serial killer stories off the top of my head: The Silence of the Lambs (plus a sequel, a prequel, a sort-of sequel, a spin-off TV series, and the original Hannibal Lector movie no one’s ever heard of), Psycho (plus a remake and a spin-off TV series), American Psycho, Dahmer, The Following, American Horror Story, From Hell, Zodiac…and the list goes on.

Oh, and they’ve announced they’re making a film adaptation of The Devil in the White City starring Leonardo DiCaprio as serial killa H.H. Holmes.

So yeah. People seem to like serial killers a whole lot for some reason. We seem to feel an innate magnetism toward some pretty bad dudes.

But why are we so interested in this stuff, even when it’s so unpleasant?

My first impression is that we consume fiction in order to immerse ourselves in worlds we’ve never been to before. When we watch movies or read books, we often expect to see that which we haven’t seen, to encounter people who are different than us. And if you’re looking for, uh, different characters, why not try people who kill other people in their spare time?

Furthermore, with any serial killer, the question of “why?” always comes up. Some part of us wants to understand why someone would kill others compulsively. Is it something in their past? Or is it something they were just born to do? Maybe the best part of those questions is that we never really get answers.

And another questions goes along with that: “what if?” If serial killers kill people for more or less no reason, then what’s to stop them from killing me or you? Your audience might ask themselves that very question: What if that could happen to me?

Perfect. When your audience wonders how they would react within your world, they’re becoming a participant in your story. Which means they’re probably enjoying it.

Lastly, fiction serves as a buffer between audience and subject matter, allowing us to watch and even root for the killer. We follow these people who only pretend to feel emotion, who use their charm in order to kill those around them—but we don’t want to get too close. I think that’s why it’s so unpleasant to hear news stories about mass murders, yet a story about a mass murderer under the guise of fictional film can draw millions to the box office. Strange, isn’t it?

People talk about serial killers all the time. They talk about them in books, on TV, in movies, even on podcasts. Even after writing this blog, I’m still not sure I understand the fascination.

But one thing’s for sure: this subject is going to continue killin’ it for years to come.

Sorry. Bad pun…

The Force Awakens Gets the Tone Just Right

Star Wars VII Logo

If you’ve seen Star Wars: The Force Awakens, I’m guessing you liked it. And on the off chance that you didn’t, I’m guessing you still liked it more than the prequel films. Though there are many elements working for this film that weren’t working in the prequels, I think the key is tone.

What was the tone of the original three Star Wars films? A satisfying blend of wonder, adventure, humor, action, and drama. The prequels were a little heavy on the latter two, which kind of spoiled the recipe. The Force Awakens, however, got it just right.

It’s much easier to enjoy the world of a film when the characters are enjoying, too. For example, when Rey and Finn escape aboard the Millennium Falcon, they’re just as excited about their accomplishment as we are. That feels much more real to me than the characters of Episodes I, II, and III, who pretty much have flat reactions to just about everything. Exhibit A:

And Exhibit B:

And this…

We don’t see this kind of stiffness in the original trilogy. Instead, we have scenes of straight humor, such as Han’s classic “Who’s scruffy lookin’?” line—which is way more quotable, and not in an ironic way. Probably should’ve used that one more in high school…

It’s not that the prequels didn’t try for moments of levity. Jar Jar Binks was an attempt at humor. A misguided, bungling, completely unfunny attempt at humor, sure, but an attempt nonetheless. (P.S., did you know he’s a Sith Lord? I’m convinced.)

Ultimately, the tone of The Force Awakens matches the tone of the originals far better than the prequels. If the prequel trilogy came out first, I suspect it wouldn’t have been so disappointing. The established tone would’ve been a bit more serious and a bit less humorous. Therefore, audiences maybe wouldn’t have gone into theaters expecting something they weren’t going to get. It’s sort of like when Coke changed their recipe; people didn’t like it because it was unfamiliar.

The Force Awakens, however, is much more successful because the filmmakers go back to a world in which discovery and fun are integral to the story, just like in the original trilogy of films. It’s not just that we get Luke and Han and Leia back—it’s that we get their energy and excitement back, too.

What is the Claw Machine Doing with My Luck?

You’ve probably heard of the phrase “your luck has run out.” Sounds like something a Saturday morning cartoon hero might say to her greatest nemesis just before securing victory.

But sometimes I wonder if there’s really something to that phrase. Could luck be a finite resource, like coal or petroleum or Magic: The Gathering trading cards?

I don’t have any real evidence for this claim other than those days when you’re lucky enough to wake up on time despite your alarm malfunctioning, yet unlucky enough to hit a huge traffic jam and end up late for work anyway. In those moments, it feels like you were only given one token of luck, and you spent it on the alarm clock.

All this is why I fear the claw machine at arcades.

Let me explain. I have tremendous luck with the claw machine at arcades. The one where you press a red button on the end of a joystick to make a four-pronged silver claw descend into a sea of plush toys. It’s that machine that you quietly curse when it drops the toy you so carefully plucked, almost as if it was on purpose.

I’ve won the claw game three times in my life, which I consider the equivalent of hurling a basketball from the opposite side of the court with my eyes closed while balanced on a unicycle and draining it. And I don’t consider this bragging because, like hurling a basketball with eyes closed while balanced on a unicycle and draining it, the claw machine has nothing to do with skill. It’s just sheer dumb luck.

(By the way, what is dumb luck? If there’s such a thing as dumb luck, does that mean there’s also such a thing as smart luck, or straight-Bs-but-tries-really-hard luck?)

Anyway, I wonder if I’m wasting all my luck, dumb or otherwise, on the claw machine. What if I never played the claw machine, never won that dalmatian with the fireman helmet or the mini Chicago Bulls basketball or the orca whale, and instead put that luck toward something that’s actually useful, like a lottery ticket?

And that’s maybe the worst part of luck. You can’t know when you’re using it, or how much you’re using, or whether or not it’s about to run out.

Back to that “your luck has run out” phrase. It’s usually followed by some misfortune directed at one person or another, like death or something. Which is funny, because I don’t think dying is unlucky. You wouldn’t have to be lucky to win the lottery if everybody won the lottery, right?

Then again, could luck just be an explanation for the unexplainable? I mean, if you’re unfortunate enough to find yourself in class on the day you didn’t do the reading, and then, out of the entire lecture hall of a hundred or so students, your professor chooses you to answer her question, how would you explain that.

Just bad luck, I guess.

Likewise, if you win the lottery, beating out all the thousands of other entrants whose numbers might be a digit or two away from yours, how can you explain that?

Must be good luck (or smart luck?).

So do I really even believe in this thing called luck? I guess not. It probably isn’t this intangible that we all use every day, and that can run out at any moment. It’s more likely that it’s just the word we use to describe the unlikely, or the nearly impossible. Really, luck is probably nothing more than a word, right?

Still, just to be safe, maybe I’ll stay away from the claw machines.

Why There Should Be More Movies That Don’t Make Sense

Birdman

After I finished watching Alejandro G. Innaritu’s Birdman for the first time, my initial reaction was this: “I would need to watch that ten more times to really get it.”

I mean, let’s run through this for a second. The film is about Riggan Thomson, a guy who may or may not be schizophrenic and who (spoiler alert) seems to literally fly away from his problems at the end of the film. If you’ve seen the film, you’ll remember the scene where Riggan runs through Time Square in his tighty whities. And then there’s the fistfight with Ed Norton, fresh out of a tanning booth.

I mean, really…what the hell does any of this mean?

I don’t know. But that’s what I like about it.

I’ve seen enough transparent movies, and I bet you have, too–that is to say, movies that viewers can fully grasp in one sitting. To be fair, I love movies like that. I saw Jurassic World this summer and loved it. It’s not especially deep and you won’t gain much from watching it a second time (except maybe enjoying the dinosaur showdown at the end a little more), but it’s a fun movie.

And I think that’s fine. A movie shouldn’t set out to confuse its audience. However, I think more movies should challenge the audience. And that’s exactly what Birdman does.

Birdman is a story that you can’t consume in just one sitting. It’s a film that rewards careful viewers. It’s a story that offers something new every time you consume it. Still, Birdman is probably not to sort of movie you’re going to go see with your buddies on a Saturday night in July. Weird stories are not easy to get on the first go around.

Hollywood knows this, and I think that’s why you don’t see weird films nearly often enough. They know what kind of story sells, and it more or less goes like this: Main Character begins in a world of order. Disorder causes a problem that only Main Character can fix. For the next sixty minutes or so, Main Character tries and fails to fix her/his problem. Finally, Main Character faces the problem in the climax and either succeeds or fails in the attempt (usually succeeds).

It’s a simplified version, sure, but it’s a story humans have loved ever since stories have been told. Just ask Joseph Campbell.

It’s a good formula, and one that’s been proven to work. But formulas are for math and science. They’re dangerous when used in art.

Art shouldn’t be formulaic. Art should be spontaneous, unpredictable, and, it shouldn’t always make immediate senseBecause isn’t the whole point of art to make you think, to make you look at the world a different way? Nothing makes us think quite like something totally strange and totally unlike what we’ve seen before.

Or a guy who caws like a bird.

I’m A Writer, But How Do I Tweet?

Social Media Icons

For some writers, social media is one of those do-I-have-to? commitments. It might seem like one more distraction from your writing, one more unnecessary to pile onto all your necessaries. I’ll admit it–I used to feel the same way. I guess I just never saw the point in it. Could Facebook or Twitter actually make me a better writer?

Well…no.

But even if you’re this generation’s Hemingway, no one will buy your books if they don’t know you exist. That’s where social media comes in. It’s the best form of advertising a writer can ask for: it’s free, you can do it yourself, and it’s a great way to get a direct line to fans and other authors.

Before we continue, let’s take a step back. I learned what I know about social media marketing from working at a company called TeamSnap. We produce an app that condenses everything a youth sports coach or parent needs into one place. So if you need to know who’s coming to the next game, when and where that game is, and who’s bringing what refreshments, you’ll want to try us.

I help run the social media accounts for TeamSnap. Basically, I post the day-to-day content, answer questions folks might have for us, and drive traffic to our marketing site. It’s a very unique company and I’ve learned a lot about social media marketing from my coworkers.

One thing I’ve learned: people are brutally honest on social media. As a marketer, that’s good information to have; if people are upset with your product, they’ll write angry statuses about it.

It’s the same thing with your book. If you’re an author, the people you should be pleasing most (after yourself and your mom, of course), are your fans. So if you’ve got a character in there that everyone hates–the Jar Jar Binks of your novel, if you will–your readers will tell you. In your next book, maybe you can kill that character off, or write him out of your series by inexplicably giving him a position on the intergalactic senate…

Furthermore, having a direct line to other writers is something that didn’t really exist before Twitter. Let me tell you a story: I happened to tweet about a guy named Paolo Bacigalupi, who you might know as the author of The Windup Girl, which Time Magazine named as one of the top 10 fiction books of 2009. Here’s my tweet:

And here’s the response I got (which I was not expecting):

Yeah. This is why I like Twitter.

Don’t think of social media as some stupid thing people spend all their time on. Well, it can be. But it doesn’t need to be. For us writers, social media is a medium through which we can discover potential readers and fellow writers. At its best, it’s another tool in the toolbox (you’re welcome, Stephen King).

So get on Twitter or Facebook and give it a shot.

And feel free to follow me on Twitter here.

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