[End-of-the-month commentary on blogging. List of previous.]
“The best things are the things you never knew you wanted until you got them.”
The Unknown Unknown: Bookshops and the delight of not getting what you wanted
by Mark Forsyth [Icon 2014]
The author blogs at The Inky Fool: On Words, Phrases, Grammar, Rhetoric and Prose
For Forsyth, a “known known” is a book already read. A “known unknown” is a book you would only read if stranded on a desert island. An “unknown unknown” is the eureka moment.
When I go into a bookstore, I’m happy to see books that I have read and liked. Seeing old friends makes me trust the judgment of the store. But it doesn’t give me anything to read. I’m delighted to see the latest book of a favorite author (an unknown known?). Now I have something to read. But I could have ordered it myself from the Borg. Like Forsyth, what I want from a bookstore is a book whose identity I had never previously suspected, yet now must read.
That’s how I feel about my blog.
First, I’m happy with the blog as is. So long as it continues to amuse me, it continues to fulfill its primary purpose, viz “to keep me from going batshit crazy.” [Back] However, I’ve been to two blog talks this year [See Jane Write, Acronyms]. Other bloggers have all manner of plans. So I ponder.
If I were in need of the pittance available from monetizing, I’d make more money as a greeter at Walmart. If I were burning to write for magazines or to speak at conventions, I’d be better off contacting editors and organizers directly, not sitting about, twiddling my electrons, waiting for someone to notice my blog. I want my blog to … to … I don’t know. That’s my point. It’s an unknown unknown. If I knew what I wanted, I’d make efforts in that direction.
If I had to define a stretch goal, I would want my blog to open doors that I don’t even know were there.