An interesting discussion has taken place over at scraplab about “delivering.” Whether it’s a program or a book, we deliver when we put something out for public consumption. We’ve taken our baby and sent it out into the big, scary world, and now it has to stand on its own. Or, as might very well be the case, fall on its own.
The second entry is a response on another person’s blog to the first one in the list. In this exchange, they talk about deliverables, and then about journalism/news. What about blogging?
Blogging seems insignificant next to a newspaper, though there are certainly blogs with larger readerships than many newspapers. Either way, both have to keep feeding the press, coming up with new words and putting them together for hungry readers. We still deliver, but I like how number 2 up there puts it:
It’s not that the media critics have never shipped, it’s that they do so much shipping they’ve stopped caring about product like anyone else would.
I still get a bit of nervousness when I publish something I’ve written, even though I publish something most every day. There’s a vulnerability inherent in putting words into the database, formatting that for public consumption, and sending it out into the world. Will anyone notice? Will anyone care? How many will hate or like this thing in which I have invested myself?
Some people point at the current state of writing as “the death of literature.” When everyone writes, can anyone be called a Writer? And if everyone is a Writer, is there anything special in it? If everyone is published, is it worth “being published?”
The shift is this: if anything, there is greater emphasis on writing for the self than for others, because in the great noise that is the Internet, it is becoming increasingly rare for others to notice that we deliver.
If no one notices, does it still matter? I dare say it does.