Castaways

To whom it may concern:

Every author has an audience. Well, at least that's the assumption he makes when he sits down to write. Otherwise, what's the point? This blog writer is no different. Besides, unlike some who craft words and mold ideas in other ways, I get direct feed back, either via comments or stats Blogger feeds me daily. I don't have many readers, but I see you there each time I post. The numbers creep slowly upward. And you know what they say, the numbers never lie.

I read a blog recently where the writer described her mental audience as a conversation with her readers around her kitchen table. Sounds warm and cozy. Who wouldn't like that? Naturally, it made me think of how I see myself in relation to my readers. Oddly, no image at all came immediately to mind.  

Obviously, I don't visualize my audience anything like the way she did. I didn't feel as close and cozy with my readers as she does with hers. However, I didn't take that to be a bad thing, just a different way of seeing one's role. 

What shocks me as I write this now is, that as a writer, I had no clear vision of my audience. Yes, I knew the type audience related to the topics and tone, but I'd never given any thought to a mental perception of them. 

After a few days, this deficiency began to haunt me. Why couldn't I come up with a simple analogy? Just how did I see myself interacting with those who take the time to read what I scribble here? So I set to work trying to create, no, discover my image. 

Last last night, and early this morning an idea crystallized into clarity. For what it's worth, I feel like a castaway on some deserted island who has discovered that his radio still works. He knows that if he broadcasts on a known frequency, someone, and he doesn't quite know who, but someone will hear him. He also knows that that same someone will respond - eventually. It's just a matter of time or maybe a matter of method. So, not to push the analogy too far, I feel that way: solitary, singular, but in no way stranded or lonely, writing to you, plural - a you somewhere else, maybe far away, maybe near, maybe a follower, maybe a casual reader, maybe a first timer - an only timer. Yet, I know you are out there reading. Eventually, I'll say something which will strike a nerve just right and you'll pick up the mic and respond. 

Please don't take this as a plea for any attention. I merely mean that I see myself as here alone at my keyboard spilling my heart and mind to you who are "out there somewhere". I'm not lonely. I'm not digging for comments. I just needed to tell you how I see myself in this capacity. 

I enjoy very much writing here. My mind needs a way to empty itself without burdening those with whom I live with the minutiae of things they might not understand or care about. Blogging gives an active mind an outlet it desperately needs to vent or sometimes flush itself and reset. That's the important function you serve as my readers. Like the fisherman, I can't see the fish who is biting on my line, but I can feel your tug on the other end and I feel the connection. I thank you for your participation.

Until next time,

Contemplate the mysteries, and remember to breathe.