1,001 words on word counts

(1,001 words)

Mine is the only blog in existence which gives explicit consumer-friendly warnings about whether you should begin to read it or not.

Have you noticed it? It’s the little parenthetical number right at the very top of each new post.

Today’s says “(1,001 words).”

Confused about what it means?

Don’t feel bad. You’re not alone. I’ve had enough people question it I thought a little refresher was in order because I have no intention of removing the feature.

I believe its value is futuristic.

It’s the blog’s word count -- the total number of words it took to compose that post. You can gauge whether or not that blog is worth reading depending on how much time you have to kill. Click it on any day and the link will zip you right over to an introductory explanation from its September 2012 debut.

If you’re at work and see a post says “(653 words)” you might think, “Ah, perfect, a nice short possibly humorous distraction that will allow my hormones to re-charge until they once again cry out for their once-every-10-minute porn fix.”

But you might want to save a post that tops, say, 1,200 words, for a long phone call when you have to pretend you’re paying attention but are crafty enough to fake it.

See, I’m a newspaper guy. I think in some ways that’s what I’ll always be.

And I mean that in the romantic sense and not that I’ll always be broke, badly dressed and mortally depressed about the prospects for my immediate future.

Sure, I’m all that, too, but like any newspaper guy or gal, I love everything about newspapers -- the way they feel, smell, look and the way you can roll one up to squash an annoying house fly without blood-splattered parts of the newspaper’s motherboard splashing into your morning coffee.

So much of my impoverished newspaper history involves equal measures headlines, deadlines and breadlines.

But I absolutely loved writing newspaper stories.

There’s a genuine and unmatched journalistic thrill to writing a great front page deadline story at 7 a.m. and then watching it roll off the presses four hours later knowing everyone in the city would be talking about it by lunch.

But there was one thing about writing newspaper stories newspaper people grow to resent.

That’s the word count. A typical newspaper column measured 750 words.

You could score an interview with the resurrected Christ and if a harried editor said he or she only had 750 words of space, then by God, that story would be 750 words long.

And that “by God” reference isn’t hyperbolic. Crusty old editors on deadline have an almighty omnipotence that would cause many a real deity to defer. 

It was all very tyrannical.

That’s the great thing about writing for the web. Unshackled from spacial concerns, you can write as long as you damn well please.

Sometimes, just for the playful spite of it, I’ll even write the exact same sentence twice.

Sometimes, just for the playful spite of it, I’ll even write the exact same sentence twice.

But this liberty is abused by many otherwise worthy writers. They go on and on and on.

And on and on and on.

And on and on and on.

The hacks.

Me, I truly fret over each and every word. I know how precious your every second is and what a frivolous waste of it reading this blog is to productive living. 

It’s not like I’m dispensing insightful stock tips or hot fantasy football advice.

You get nothing material out of reading this.

If that makes you feel bad, cheer up.

Imagine how I feel.

But I have a lot of fun here. I hope you do, too.

And I hope you’ll tell friends. My tech guys are right now putting together a snazzy new home page that will feature podcasts, book deals and more than 100 story links in easy-to-access categories. I believe it will be a cinch to navigate and beneficial to one and all.

I’m calling the site www.healthcare.gov.

But the word count up top is I believe essential to informing you of whether or not I’m wasting your time.

You’re entitled to at least that. If you see a long line at a fancy restaurant, you have to consider whether the meal is worth the wait.

Why should a blog be any different?

What’s caught me by surprise is that uniformly, the heftier stories  -- the ones that exceed 1,000 words -- are often more popular than the ones that measure a jiffy 600 words or so.

 I’d thought it would have been the opposite. 

That’s emboldened me to stretch out more. If I’m passing the 700 words mark and it feels like it’s flowing I’ll just let it ride, comfortable that you’re going to stick with me.

Of course, the knowledge tempts me to put misleading word counts up top just to snare the readers who prefer the LP versions.

I’ll try not to do that.

But it’s very gratifying to know so many of you are lavishing the longer pieces with such attention.

And I promise I’ll do everything creatively possible to avoid cheesy stunts to keep from artificially inflating the word count above 1,000 just to lure readers who prefer the long haul.

And I promise I’ll do everything creatively possible to avoid cheesy stunts to keep from artificially inflating the word count above 1,000 just to lure readers who prefer the long haul.

And I promise I’ll do everything creatively possible to avoid cheesy stunts to keep from artificially inflating the word count above 1,000 just to lure readers who prefer the long haul.

Honest!

Related . . .

The vanishing stigma of typos

A blog on bloggin’ 

Happy birthday to Bob Dylan & my blog!

Amish porn & word counts

(719 words)

Astute readers will notice I’m introducing a new parenthetical feature. It’s not code. It’s not enigma. It’s another reader service designed to make your visit more efficient.

And let me be clear, I think anyone who stops by to read my stuff is very astute -- and that includes all of you who mistakenly stumble here based on search terms like “amish porn,” “amish breasts,” and “do amish can bacon?”

This happens on a near-hourly basis. Someone will land feet first and, I guess, pants down at www.EightDaysToAmish.com because some fraudulent search engine indicated this is a clearinghouse for things like Amish porn and lifestyle news.

It’s becoming frequent enough to at least have me considering trying my hand at Amish porn. Here’s a sample:

“Miriam arose from the stool beside her butter churn and approached Jacob with lusty intentions. She seized his stiff wick in her rough, able hands and gave it a good long dip.”

Needs some work, I know. But I thought I’d leave it up to sensitive readers to decide if Miriam and Jacob were engaged in Amish sex or merely making a supper table candle.

Back to the new feature.

It’s this post’s word count. From now on I plan to include right at the very top in parenthesis the total word count of that day’s offering.

Even though I’m unshackled by any artificial space constraints, I still try not to exceed about 750 words per post. That’s traditionally the length of one column up and down a broadsheet newspaper.

It’s a format still favored by the majority of newspapers. And that column includes enough space for just about 750 words.

Ideally, I think my blog posts should be about 600 words, but I can’t help myself.

That nonsense about the Amish sex? It consumed 92 words. I should probably cut it but it seemed like a good idea when it came to me, and I don’t have an editor to shout at me it’s too stupid to include.

That’s key.

I was raised in newspapers and remember deadline tyrants screaming at me about spacial concerns.

I remember the time I had a page one story about a major cocaine bust that required 1,000 words of crisp copy, a challenge because I only had about 600 words of facts and quotes.

I told him that was impossible. I’d exhausted the topic.

“Then write 400 more words on the chemical composition of cocaine, if it has any household applications -- some damn thing! Just give me 400 words -- and I need it in 90 seconds!”

It was very stressful.

So today I write as long or as short as I please with the understanding the internet’s not going to run out of room.

Sometimes, just for the playful spite of it, I’ll even write the very same sentence twice.

Sometimes, just for the playful spite of it, I’ll even write the very same sentence twice.

But I worry about you. I know how busy you are. You have work to do. You have kids to chase. You’re impatient to resume your search for authentic Amish porn.

The word count will let you decide if you want to invest in that day’s offering.

I thought about putting something like “2 mins, 40 seconds,” that being the average time it should take to read it.

But someone might feel boneheaded and sad realizing it’s taken them three minutes. Other hyper-competitive sorts might post comments bragging they read the thing in, say, 89 seconds.

And the idea of me encouraging anyone to engage in speed reading is as unappealing as encouraging my wife to engage in speed sex.

The two activities should be savored.

I understand adding a word count will present me with temptations to deceive.

If I see a trend of more readers checking out posts that are about 600 words, there’s nothing to stop me from putting (599 words) atop a post that’s 1,232 words long.

Or if I write something that seems particularly pointless to even me, I might type “4,430” in hopes it’ll discourage readers from investing the time.

I’ll try not to do that.

I’ll try, instead, to be honest, to keep my wick trim, my candle bright and to continue ever onward on my relentless quest to make every single word count.