Good morning peoples.
It is indeed 4:59am and I am trying to go back to sleep. Well, I was at 4:30. But after laying in bed since 3:30 wrestling with the formatting problems I had with my last post (it would be so helpful to know HTML5 right now), plus the dwindling views I have gotten on here last week(s) which is never an encouraging fact for a writer. You just lay awake thinking about all the meaningless drivel you could write in order to get pageviews up. You could write about the moms who annoy you. You could totally throw them under the bus and talk about what strollers they use and why they’re stupid for using them, or suburban mother culture, which is just rife with possibilities to nitpick.
You could write reaction posts to the news. You could talk about weight loss, weight gain, body image, dietary stuff, gluten free weight loss tricks (lies), or how my astrological sign is preventing me from finding my true calling in life. You could totally do these in order to get more views.
And yet, you don’t. And your statistical popularity suffers…is it for a martyrs’ cause, or is it because you are a bad writer? What’s going on?
Right now the house is very quiet. Everyone is asleep. There is no one sitting on me, or asking me for breakfast, or a diaper, or help with math, or for another bagel (“no, you just had two bagels! No more bagels!“), while I type this. It’s just me, my blindingly bright laptop and a bottle of Blue Moon at 5:00am.
I have to admit something.
Yeah, I didn’t know what this meant, either.
So, here’s the deal with Anorak:
“In British slang an anorak // is a person who has a very strong interest, perhaps obsessive, in niche subjects. This interest may be unacknowledged or not understood by the general public. The term is sometimes used synonymously with geek or nerd.
(Background) In 1984 the Observer newspaper used the term as an alternative term for the prototype group interested in detailed trivia, the trainspotters,[1][2] as members of this group often wore unfashionable but warm coats called anoraks when standing for hours on station platforms or along railway tracks, noting down details of passing trains.”
The other day Ben was at the store and he texted me saying that Angels’ Envy (a lovely bourbon) was a pretty good price; did I want a bottle?
I simply replied, “No. It’s a blend.”
(which it is…it’s a blend bourbon, and right now I am preferring straight bourbons. But it is still a lovely bourbon. For a blend.)
And Ben simply replied, “Anorak.”
So off I go to Wikipedia to save face and not admit I have no idea what this means. It’s either some archaic slang term, or Ben is having a stroke. And I’m just going to figure he can’t text while having a stroke…
“Anorak” is the British equivalent for the American “geek.” Someone who has a very specific, very particular hobby or interest.
The fact of the matter is that I have written about poetry all week. Every single day this week, except for the “What Would Peter Quill Do,” which I liked quite a bit. I took the kids to a pool party yesterday and spent an hour and a half ranting about the state of poetry these days to my friends (thankfully, they were kind of interested. They at least found it interest-ing). But no one is going to want to read about poetry. Poetry is nice, but it isn’t a conversation starter.
It’s an Anorak topic.
Now, I’m not planning on giving up on poetry…I am a poet by nature, and I have a stack of poetry books that I’m studying right now. There is a poetry manuscript that I have begun to fashion. I have plans within poetic plans.
However, for the blog I really, really, need some balance. Because Anorak topics are going to bring Anorak readers…which is all 2 of you (okay, maybe 3).
So I have to rethink my categories. Obviously I’m one of those people who have a million Anorak hobbies. But how can I refine my writing to actually connect with my audience.
Because if you can’t do that as a writer, then even all the bottles of Blue Moon in the world won’t help you make a difference. And that’s the whole point of writing, in the first place.
Not that Old School.
I also balanced a tomato, because I got fed up with the egg after a while. Although, the tomato might not count.
The Platypus Directive 