A Letter to the Audience

Photo by Justin Watson James

I have a history of making things that no one ever sees. It's becoming a pattern. My friends and I used to run a magazine and website that we updated rabidly. New content everyday. A new issue every month. We toiled long into the night at Kinkos meticulously folding, stapling, rounding corners, numbering, and signing all of them. Each month we made hundreds of them... which sat in my closet. The website, though updated hourly at times, was viewed by a grand total of no one.

For years I've retreated to the romantic creed of "art for art's sake," shaking my punk-rock fist at audiences. But audiences are wonderful and necessary. Architects design buildings that get built, philosophers write books people read and musicians write songs for people's ears. I believe you can involve your audience without pandering to them. They are vital to the success of these projects.

Audience,

I'm not going to lie to you, the majority of these blog entries are for me. Some are self-indulgent, others wish-fulfillment. But I do not write in a vacuum. I know you're out there and I keep you in mind. Perhaps it's not too late for a mission statement. These entries are personal to me, but not my diaries. I won't use this as a platform to vent or complain. I promise to start from a place of honesty, and apologize when I try too hard to make you laugh. These are my tiny truths and I invite you to see how these lumps of sugar taste.

In return I ask your honesty. If you love something, say so. If you hate it, feel free to say why. Your praise makes me fat; your criticism makes me better. My loyalty is to writing and not my ego. I'm making these little meals and inviting you to share. Sometimes they're just snacks. I get busy and we're going to eat out of the microwave now and then, but I still would like your company.

Thank you for joining me.

Best,
Nick