Wednesday, 31 December 2008

LIVING DANGEROUSLY

You know what? Maybe I was a bit hasty when I said that my life could not compare with blockbusters for thrills.

Have you ever seen one of these films where the hero gets mauled by a lion, or hit by a bullet? Not only doesn't he start screaming with pain like you and I would, but he then proceeds to tend the wound himself, extracting the bullet with his trusty (or should I say rusty?) bush knife, with only the occasional wince to remind us of the ordeal he is going through.

Well, I did pretty much the same today. Okay, I did not indulge in DIY surgery, but I helped somebody get rid of a cast on their wrist, armed only with, ahem, garden secateurs... Hey, I'll have you know that secateurs can be a very dangerous weap..., err, tool, and those were dead sharp. If you don't believe me, take a look at the mangled remains of the cast after we had finished with it.



And if you think this is scary (I don't know, maybe you've led a very sheltered life), you should have seen the 4-foot long hedge shearers that were our first choice as surgical instrument.

Suffice it to say, I feel now that I belong to the elite of the blogging community. Especially since we also managed to bake some gingerbread. And the day is still young!

See you next year.


Tuesday, 30 December 2008

LIKE A BEACON

With all these people telling about their life more or less faithfully on the Internet, what is going to make your blog stand out? Let's assume for a moment that you are not going for the easy options, like peppering your production with photos of naked women (on reflection, I am not sure how much it would make your site stand out on the Internet...). Then, you have to lead a really fascinating life to have a hope of competing. The blogosphere (awful word!) is full of pages from people who raise their five children single-handedly while living in a war zone, have a successful career as international spy, make their own Christmas cards, and still find time to bake seven different types of cake every day, not to mention write about it in their blog.

Now, I am not saying that my life is boring, or even very typical, but I'm not sure I can measure up in terms of daily thrills to those love children of James Bond and Martha Stewart. If their life is a blockbuster, mine is more like a French art house movie, rich in inner turmoil and pithy monologues. I'm sure you're glad you came to this site, now...

Anyway, since it seems I have little chance of attracting a very large audience, I think I will be focussing instead on the quality of it, and make sure I have the most discerning, sophisticated, intelligent, cultured readers: people like you. See what I did there?

Still, don't be surprised if you come back in a few weeks and find this page covered with photos of naked women.

Ingres, The turkish bath (Musée du Louvre)

Sunday, 28 December 2008

SO, WHAT'S IN A BLOG?

One obvious advantage of a blog over a book, is that you are free to decide what is published, and when. No need to wait until you have written 200 impeccably chiseled pages, no need to submit your masterwork to the arbitrary judgement of a reading committee made up of failed writers and spiteful misfits whose perverse pleasure in life is to prevent the work of anyone gifted from ever seeing print... (No, I promise, I have never had a manuscript turned down. Although I have a strange feeling that the odds of that happening in the future have just increased significantly)

Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, freedom. That freedom is not total: by posting more or less on a daily basis (let's be optimistic) you are creating an expectation in your readers (assuming you have some - I did say optimistic, didn't I?) that you will sustain this rhythm forever, or at least until they get bored. But where are you to find the subject matter for such regular delivery? Most people try to find it in their own life, hoping to combine a steady supply of material with the cathartic effect of a candid reflection about the events of the day. Of course, whether a life that leaves them unfulfilled enough that they feel the need to write a blog is going to be of interest to other people, remains to be seen. You will tell me, won't you?

In any case, I must warn you that I make no promise about candidness, or indeed about regularity. If you don't hear from me for a few days, I will probably tell you I was busy, but you can safely assume that I was too lazy to write. Or that I lost my password. Or that I got a life... Stranger things have happened!

Friday, 26 December 2008

HELLO WORLD!

Have you ever wondered why any normal person, let alone one who values his privacy to a point bordering on the neurotic, would want to publish a blog? Probably not: I dare say you have better use for your time. Well, I have pondered this at length - blame it on the interminable holiday digestions - and I have a few insights on the subject, that I will gladly share with you.

First, let's give up the pretence that we want to update our friends about what's happening to us. Chances are, the close ones are already informed. I don't know about your friends, but if one of mine learnt of my impending wedding through my blog, I'd never hear the end of it! As for the others, I confess I don't want so much to let them know what's happening to me, as to know what they've been up to themselves. With the secret hope that it's not quite as exciting as what I did...

In fact, friends are the last audience we want for that kind of venture. We have to face them again some day, so we need to avoid both embarassing truths and blatant lies. And then, I ask you, where's the fun in it? No, the truth is that we need to cast our net wider, and reach perfect strangers. Although any stranger will do really, let's not be too demanding; in fact, even a potential reader is enough to justify baring ourselves on the screen (metaphorically - this is not that kind of blog!). In short, what we want is to be PUBLISHED!

I admire you so much. I would have liked to have written a book, like you. To feel that I escaped from the multitude...

© sempé