I want to keep this blog alive, I really do. It
may not seem like I put much effort into it, but I currently have on my hard
drive four unfinished blog posts. They are a garbled, stream-of-consciousness
mess, unfinished and indecipherable. Much like life.
Part of the reason I have trouble focusing my
thoughts is my inability to be an active part of the theatre community right
now. I’ve whined about that in previous posts, I won’t go into all that again.
But it does create a disconnect that makes it a little harder to communicate.
Another issue that arises when faced with the
hodge-podge of words and phrases on my screen that stubbornly refuse to cohere
is the question, “Why?”
Why write this?
What’s the difference?
Who’s listening?
Now, stop right there. This isn’t a plea for ego
stroking, but a genuine question every theatre endeavor must address at some
point: Who is my audience?
I could say I’m just doing this for myself, but
then why publish it on a blog? Why post it to my facebook? Why not just keep a
little private theatre diary? Why?
I could say I’m doing it to advance my web
presence, but then why don’t I actively promote the blog outside of my own
circle? Why not spam other blogs with links to my blog? Why?
If you strip away the bots in my blog stats, I
would say about 10-12 sentient beings read my posts on average. Which, let’s
face it, is more sentient beings than I had at my last birthday party. Of
those, maybe half let me know they read it – either by commenting, or sending
me a message, “Hey, I read it!”. Of the ones that I know read it, about 75% are
theatre people, the other two are family. (Thank you, family!)
So if I need to suss out a reason for writing this
blog (and I do), then there is my audience. I’m playing to an audience of about
12, six of whom sit way in the back and slip out during curtain call. Two of
them stand in the lobby and wait for a moment when they can grab you and tell
you it was great before sliding out the door. The last four are the ones who
stick around, discussing and dissecting until the lobby goes dark.
We all want to play to a full house, but even a
small audience keeps me engaged. The ones who fill out the numbers on my stats,
the ones who are only there for support, and the ones who are actively
participating, all become a thin lifeline to the second most important part of
my life.
So I’ll keep that in mind as I try to get those
other posts blog-ready. If you’re curious, the errant posts are titled “Peas
and Carrots”, “The Friends and Family Plan”, and . . . well, I can’t find the other
two on my hard drive anywhere. Which means I have seriously misfiled them. If
they’re as brilliant as I hope they are, they’ll find their way back to me, and
perhaps one of those posts will be the one that brings me a full house, and
fewer people slipping quietly out the door.
And I will finish a thought one of these . . .
