Fan mail from some flounder?

Not from a flounder at all, actually — whatever that even means — but one of my most devoted blog-readers. Still I couldn’t resist tarting up this post by using the phrase. Know where it comes from? Here’s a clue.

Anyway. Today I did get fan mail of a sort, clearly intended to be sung to the tune of "Norwegian Wood." I suppose it’s more epitaph than epigram, but I’m taking a compliment where I can find it, okay? Here’s what I got:

Onnnnce
you had a blog
or should I say, once it had you.

Yoooooour
friends from the bog
often stopped by,
commented too.

I think you were coping with bosses you wished you could roast.
You work for yourself now and never have time left to post.

Now nobody reads
new posts from Mead
this bird is freed.

la,
la la la la
la la la la
la la la la.

In case you’d like to sing along, here’s something Fabulicious for your edification…



…along with my promise (yet again and not for the last time) to post more soon.

Happy Birthday to ME

In the interests of astronomical accuracy, my real solar return is still six days away. (I’ll be 74, thank you – one year younger than last time round!) The above-captioned milestone I refer to is actually the blog’s. Because at some point this morning, its site meter passed 10,000 visitors and slogged on to the current tally of 1,008. I have to love that number because it’s divisible by the number of prime numbers below – obviously!

As you might surmise, John Cage is the bodhisattva of the day, since I have nothing to say and I am saying it. Nevertheless and howsoever, I am astonished to have that many entities viewing this blog in the space of 18 months, especially since for the first third of that I only posted once every other month. So thank you, whoever you are, for checking in with me once in awhile.

To mark the occasion, today I thought I would abuse your patience by reverting to the age-old assumption that one’s medical symptoms are of intense interest to the entire blogosphere. Often, over the years, friends and others have accused me of being a space alien of some stripe or other, and not a human being at all. And I’ve come to realize that the evidence for this is mounting.

For ex:

1. I’m supposed to have a unique blood type – something about the blood cells having an odd shape, I don’t understand it.

2. My brain waves will not register on a biofeedback machine. This is true, it’s been tried several times. The machine will sit there as still as though I were dead.

3. Technically I’m hermaphroditic, in that my body houses vestigial oviducts. (According to my doctor, this is not actually unusual – he says one out of six men has this harmless condition. You might want to check into it for yourself if you’re of the male persuasion…)

4. I’m cursed with mixed brain dominance, which is also a mixed blessing. I believe it does have its peculiar advantages, but my leading symptom is that often when I’m trying to speak, too many synonyms crowd into my head at once and what comes out is a garbled amalgam. Hence public speaking is a horror show for me because I never know what will come out of my mouth.

Talking to a physician years ago about all of the above, she commented: “I would have to say that you’re either an evolutionary step forward…..or backward.”

Nice.

I just realized that all these disclosures are going to scandalize my cousin, who is so private that she leaves no trace on the Web whatsoever; she’s as gossamer as the Web itself. Yet here I am, warding away potential clients with all my weirdnesses laid bare.

Sorry, Cousin “Tabitha” (NHRN). But I’m sanguine. Any one of us could develop a list of idiosyncrasies just as odd, though perhaps some would scruple to keep it to themselves.

Happy Birthday to US!

GroteQuote

If you’re going to attempt being at all au courant in the teeny tiny universe of live theater, there are certain blogs you’d best keep up with: Parabasis, for ex, and Histriomastix, for a very different ex. And of course there’s that raving blogophiliac Jason Grote, whose portrait (by Neil Numberman) graces this post. There is also the indispensable Bamboo Nation, whose evil (but darling) creator has trained me to check every single day, lest I miss his latest contest giveaway or Diablo Cody quip or new Pork Chop video.

Below is recent comment from Herr Grote'g blog that I appreciated.

Like many of us, I have a love/hate relationship with theater. It's like a bad romance that is occasionally pretty great, but usually frustrating and annoying. I've been thinking a lot about quitting lately, but every time I start to think seriously about it, some experience draws me back in - most recently, Woolly Mammoth's production of David Adjmi's Stunning, directed by Annie Kauffman, a phenomenal piece of work that I got to see last weekend.

I think, were I to quit (switching to screenwriting, comedy, and prose full-time), I'd miss the sense of instant gratification and collaboration that one gets from doing theater, but not much else. There is one place, however, that I would always come back to from whatever greener pastures call me, any time, and that place is Soho Rep. Last night I gave a speech to introduce the Writer/Director Lab reading of Mike Daisey's The Moon Is a Dead World.

If you’d like to read the full text of his appreciation of Soho Rep, here ‘tis.

Part of what I like about the above quote is that it mentions three of my favorite writers in just a few centimeters.

Even if I am miffed at Mike Daisey right now.

Lurkers vs. Commenters: a coda

I happened across this posting tonight whilst looking for something else. It should come as no surprise that there are blogs about blogging, but this post, from Blog about Your Blog, addresses what so many of you said recently in one way or another that I thought I'd share this treatise. Bon appetit.

.................................................................

Everyone likes comments.

There are bloggers who put comments above visits when judging their own success. I’m always pleased to see in the morning several comments stretched over my blogs. In fact nothing makes the process more enjoyable for me than reading a new commenter and seeing them come back.

Over at Jakob Nielsen they determined that reader participation often more or less follows a 90-9-1 rule:

· 90% of users are lurkers (i.e., read or observe, but don’t contribute).
· 9% of users contribute from time to time, but other priorities dominate their time.
· 1% of users participate a lot and account for most contributions: it can seem as if they don’t have lives because they often post just minutes after whatever event they’re commenting on occurs.

Now it’s true that this ratio is something that you’re just going to have to accept, there will always be a much higher percentage of lurkers. It doesn’t matter who you are. There are some ways to improve upon them though. I’ve sifted through a lot of them and here are what I consider the best ten ways to squeeze those comments out of your readers and of course in doing so make you smile (go on it’s ok - at least a grin).

1. Ask for the comment. Invite your readers to leave a comment or participate. For new readers to your site they may feel a little out of your community. This is your chance to say ‘hey I want to hear what you’ve got!’

2. End your post with a question. This gives a springboard for your readers to know what they can say if they want to comment but not sure what to say.

3. Make it easy to post a comment. If it is too hard to leave a comment who is going to bother? You’re already batting against the 90:9:1 ratio. Don’t make it so your readers have to a particular account to leave a comment. I’m not against the verification text myself to stop spam either.

4. Make friends with other bloggers, by leaving comments and striking up conversations you will often get loyal readers in return. It’s never a good idea to go out of your way to be negative on someone else’s blog because you’ll only hurt your own reputation in the long run.

5. Interact positively with your comments. If someone takes the time to leave a comment you should respond! Even if you don’t agree with what’s said you can always discuss it like an adult without turning it into a negative conversation. Others will see you responding and be encouraged themselves.

As with anything some of these will work for you and others may not. Why not pick one and force yourself to do it for at least 2 weeks to see what difference it makes to the comments.

Blogophilia, case study 1: Splattworks

In case you don’t have the [time / inclination / scientific curiosity / existential dread / procrastinating skills / insomnia] to constantly monitor my additions to the list of other people’s blogs, over there to the right, allow me to draw your attention, from time to time, to one of my many favorites. These days my fave rave is Splattworks, the virtual lair and mental lumber room of playwright and blogoholic Steve Patterson. I love this guy’s writing, and any day that Google Reader fails to provide me with a fresh installment of his musings, I feel peevish and froward and start attempting to hack into Steve’s site meter.

Okay, I don’t really do that, but my own blog has a devotee who does attempt this almost daily – knock it off, Mr. T!

Anyway. If you only have time today for a taste, check out his blog entry of October 17, entitled “Flashback: Winter Cascades," which is full of somber wist. Or his Halloween post about the success of our Frenching the Bones escapade. (Yes, it went splendidly and was SRO, thank you, not that you asked or anything but thanks all the same....)

And this Sunday lucky Portlanders will be treated to a reading of Mr. Splatterson’s latest opus, Turquoise and Obsidian, at Miracle Theatre Company, as the posted poster postulates below. Come on down!