Postaday for January 12th: Audience of One. Picture the one person in the world you really wish were reading your blog. Write her or him a letter.
Dear Cole Bolton, editor of The Onion:
I am Bukkhead, long-time blogger. Long-time refers to the days between the first time I blogged and now, although little can be said for the years in between. A few posts here and there. Mostly book reviews—some of which got liked by people on Goodreads!
I’ve recently undertaken a huge endeavor, to write on my blog everyday. And I mean every day. In fact, I’m going to go back and post blog entries for every day of the year so far— this post, for example, dated January 12th, was actually written on May 6th!
I’m not very good at most things. Mediocre is the best way to describe me. Not incompetent, to be sure, but mediocre. I’ve tried my hand at stand-up comedy, playing acoustic guitar, writing movie reviews, collectible card games, learning French, photography, running, biking, cross-fit… I could go on, but as a mediocre person, going on would probably require too much effort.
I’m mediocre in other walks of life as well. I’m a mediocre husband, although my wife is fairly self-sufficient, so that’s okay. I usually get birthday cards and anniversary cards to people in my family a few days late. At my job, I do a little bit more than the bare minimum (I’m writing this while half-listening to a conference call).
But when it comes to writing, I’d like to think: I got this. I know how to string words together. I can write about anything, in any tone, as many words as you want. (Assuming you’d never want more than a thousand words or so. That’s how long it takes me to get through a cup of coffee, and my wife doesn’t like me to drink too many of those).
I don’t know if you ever look to free-lancers for material, but let me assure you: I’m no free-lancer. I’m not writing things in the hopes that you’ll see them and want to put them in your paper. No, I’m more of a mercenary type. Pen-for-hire. I’m hoping you’ll read this blog now and again, and then one day, when you realize “Oh snap, we need three hundred words about standing in line to buy an Apple Watch,” you’ll think of me.
“Get me that self-deprecating guy who talks about 7-11’s frozen burritos all the time,” you’ll say. To yourself. Because you’re the only one who reads this nonsense. And you know I’ll work cheap.