Tag: Jan Johnson

Posted on

“Stats” or Bridge?

by Jan Johnson

 

A couple of weeks ago I blogged about my book giveaway drawing… you know, the drawing nobody entered?

Well, I wrote about it partly to tell you where the book ended up, and partly in the interests of full disclosure–I don’t want to give a false impression that I’m some wildly popular, successful blogger or anything. But later I re-read the post and thought it may have sounded a bit… whiny.

I hate whining.

I should write a post, I thought, to emphasize that I’m okay with my small start and am definitely not whining. But I got busy and didn’t write it… yet…

Then I went to the Faith and Culture Writers retreat and conference in Portland, as I described last week. Excellent speakers taught on a wide variety of topics relevant to us creatives. Looking back over my notes, I found one common thread that appeared, one way or other, in every single talk. Here’s the gist of it:

To really connect with your readers you must know your identity and write authentically from your passion. Do not chase market trends or compare yourself to anyone else.

No kidding, this idea popped up in every session, from “Embrace Your Inner Weird” to “Learning from Great Literature” to “Ten Things I Hate About Your Blog.” After hearing it twelve or fifteen times, phrased in a variety of ways, it made quite an impact on me. (I may have mentioned that during the conference I suffered from information overload. Otherwise it might have had that impact sooner.)

I don’t obsess about the number of subscribers my blog has. Besides the “comparison” thing, blog statistics are pretty much meaningless anyway. Many people click “subscribe” if they see one post they kind of like, or if they want to sell me something–and they never come back. One time someone followed my blog, leaving this comment on one of my especially heartfelt, carefully crafted posts:

“Follow back?”

Did she even read any of the post?

That lack of depth or engagement sends a message: “Jan, you are just a commodity this person wants to use.”

A four-digit number of followers would feel good, but only if those individuals benefit from what I have to say. I want to build a bridge between myself and my readers and, hopefully, between us and Christ. So why pump up my statistics with two thousand people who have spent no more than fifteen seconds–ever–with my blog? As near as I can figure, it’s better to connect with two dozen real live people who actually, you know, enjoy some of my posts.

Like Marlece, f’rinstance–mom of four boys in Washington state. She documents the joy and wackiness in her blog “Son Up ‘Til Son Down.” We connected online, and got to meet when I was in the area for the conference. After encouraging each other for a couple of years, I can’t tell you how satisfying it was to see her and deliver a real, live, warm, 3-D hug right there in Starbucks! She writes authentically and from her passion. As we talked I found I already knew her. She is just as wise and wonderful in person as I’d thought.

That’s how I want to write, too. So, if you’ve read this far, know that I truly love sharing my hectic, goofy and often-discombobulated life with you. You are the one I write for, and again I say…

…thanks for reading.
Seriously!
Jan

Connect with Jan:

Website

 

Posted on

Stirred and Settled

Riding in Hawaiiby Jan Johnson

 I’d been looking forward to it for months: the Faith & Culture Conference for writers and other creatives. We met last weekend at Warner Pacific College, on the edge of Mt. Tabor in Portland, Oregon.

Brent and I actually flew out to Portland a week early to visit our two sons, their wives and our grandson, all of whom have relocated to the Pacific Northwest in the last year. Good times!

The whole region is gorgeous, hills bursting with plant life including enormous Christmas trees and tons of flowers. The lakes and rivers were full of water, which almost seems weird to a Texan whose state has been in drought mode for, what, four or five years?

The city of Portland thrums with an exuberant, youthful vibe. Artfully dressed people in all their picturesque hipness were everywhere. (Sometimes a middle-aged small-town grandma needed to go look at a blank wall for a minute. I just couldn’t keep up, you know?)
But the pre-conference retreat, and the conference itself… whoa. Fabulous times of worship. We drank deep from a fountain of pure joy. Honest conversations, learning over and over that “I’m not the only one!” Making new friends, some of whose convictions, values or doctrinal beliefs differ from mine.

On the flight home to Dallas I spent some time considering the “Big Takeaway” — What had God said to me overall about my life as a writer and especially as a believer?

I’m glad you asked.

Most importantly, I heard the warning not to mistake my own tradition, paradigm or interpretation for biblically sound doctrine. My belief could be misinformed. My doctrinal position could actually be (gasp!) wrong. Or at least a matter of individual conscience.

On the other hand, depending on the topic and context, my particular belief or conviction could be right. While it’s certainly healthy to question old traditions, it’s equally healthy to question specific ideas generated in a youthful, freestyle, “anti-tradition” paradigm.

After all, we wouldn’t want to throw out the nuggets of holy truth along with the gravel of tradition and personal preference. As Peter points out in 2 Peter 1:20-21, “But know this first of all, that no prophecy of Scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation, for no prophecy was ever made by an act of human will, but men moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God.”

Either way, pursuing doctrinal correctness is not enough. I must also make sure my heart, my attitude, are right. I must seek my brothers’ and sisters’ highest good, with humility and love and respect for their sincerity.

I learned tons of stuff about writing, too, but I won’t burden my longsuffering readers with those concepts. Besides, marvelous bits of wisdom kept coming at me… so fast that too many escaped before I could jot them down. So my notebook is a little disjointed.

I’ll sign off for now, with loving greetings from the heart of Texas, y’all.

Thanks for reading,
Jan

Connect with Jan:

Website