A bit of a ramble about empty rooms and writing to no one

It's weird to think that anyone reads this stuff. Like a notebook chained to a table somewhere public. Available for perusal and largely untouched (the occasional scribbled phone number, quick arithmatic jotted on the cover, maybe the announcement that Sally was here). Most of the time anyone is online they are there to do something else. Why they would read this is kind of beyond me.

But by the same token, why do I write here? No one is really going to read this, so why write it?

When I started this it was to post fast moving articles, reference links I like, write labs and tech stuff that wouldn't quite be appropriate for my more static website. But as I started writing, I found the temptation to say something more than "if you click here, and select advanced, then a new option will appear, allowing you to..." or some such technical drivel (complete with screenshots, hoo ha) overwhelming. I started playing with the idea that words were more than something to make money with, to inform or instruct.

I feel like someone standing in an empty auditorium in front of a live microphone. Ha Ha, testing, testing. Hello Houston. And the crowd goes wild. La La La Laaa. Me Me Me Meeee. Y-o-d-a, Yodaaaa. And so I said to the guy, screw you? Why I don't even know you...... and then the next thing I know I am doing a brilliant stand up routine in front of a dusty room growing slightly overwarm.

What is it about talking to empty rooms I wonder? Is it just the sense of potential? The room could be full of people, they could be listening. But it isn't, and they aren't. But you are there, and there's a mic, and the chance may never come again.

What is that saying? "Dance, dance as if no one were looking." Or something like that. Well, this is sort of talking, talking as if no one were listening. Singing only when no one is there. I dress up alone in my room, but put on baggy clothes to go downstairs just in case someone might be able to see me. Silence (hard to believe but true) and frumpiness are protective camoflage really. The world is lucky that I am as plucky as I am. Boy, if they could see me when I'm alone, well that would be something. Yessirree. They'd be impressed then, let me tell you.

But instead, really, I think I'll stay here, where most people don't realize I am writing. It's safer. Not just because no one is there to criticise, but no one even knows I can do this. That I might want to. Heck, most people don't realize what I've written even when they read it. You see, I tend to write in someone else's voice. I'm basically a stand in. I write the boring stuff that fills books between the interesting bits. So the real author, the one with their name on the cover, can focus on keynote speeches and being shmoozed by vendors. Essentially, when I stand in front of the microphone, I speak in someone else's voice, I do my best to be someone else. I don't really have a voice of my own. At least not one that would make me money. I am almost afraid to try. I am pretty sure no one will be interested. My claim to fame is my ability to emulate someone else's style, not exhibit my own.

I know that throughout school, the reason I made good grades is because I was good at figuring out what the teachers wanted and then doing just that. C'mon, everyone does it. But somehow, when they grow up, they start writing on their own. Oh, maybe only letters to siblings or friends, the church newsletter, or even reports or speeches for work, but at least they have their own voice. I, for the most part, seem to be a literary schizophrenic, swinging from one style to another, whichever one I've been exposed to most recently. Wildly reeling from T.S. Eliot to Terry Pratchet to Windows help files (eek), and back again. I don't really have an internal compass when it comes to writing what I want to write the way I want to write it.

To make matters worse, the two styles of writing that I have studied extensively are journalistic- who, what, where, when, why, how, and to what extent, and poetic-- especially stuff that is free form and doesn't rhyme. Very urban, very intense.

As you may be aware, neither journalism nor poetry tend to lend themselves to technical writing per se. Yet that's generally all I do. Funny that. But that's most of my days' work. Set up a concept, walk the reader through the details, summarize the concept. If there is a step by step, do so clearly, briefly, stay on topic, smoothly, consistantly until the end. Don't forget the figure callouts for the screenshots. Spellcheck, compress, send away. Keep it humane, introduce new terms gently, when required, reiterate them before ending. keep your word count low, sentences short, words as small as you can. Avoid redundancy but embrace repetition. Tell them what you are going to tell them, tell them, tell them what you told them. It is the mantra of the classroom, and actually translates pretty readily to the technical writing field. Although, and this is where technical writing really veers from journalistic, when doing tech writing, tell them a lot about why. Why the product does what it does, why it was "created" to do what it does. What did the programmers intend, why the windows, buttons, dialog boxes look the way they do. Why the article is being written, who is expected to read it. Why the explanations were chosen. Why, why, why. Why, What, How, to what extent. No real who, except maybe who the reader should be.

I'm not sure how poetry ties in. I'm working on it though. Maybe it lends itself to bulleted lists, powerpoint slides, or anywhere quick, relevant, but unrelated instructions might be found...

..When saving a file
Remember what you named it
And where you put it
If you ever want to open it again...

...Hmmm, actually that one sounds more like a ransom note. But I'll keep trying....