Just the Facts Ma'am

Remember the hey look at my carrots guy with his sum total of twelve posts? Oh how I miss carrot guy. After last week with Michelle and her eight blogs I was really hoping for brevity, you know, that perfect starter blog of less than fifty posts. Instead I got The Bob Files, where Bob has thoughtfully written around five-hundred posts. Sigh.

Alongside a career in computer something or another, Bob writes professionally reporting on sports for a local paper. He has also been relatively prolific writing short fiction, comics and even poetry, but mostly, he reports.

He reports about his job, his hotel accommodations, the state of Chicagoland's icecream and his young son's foray into the newspaper biz. He conveys the facts in a straightforward manner. He covers the who, what, where, when and why. That's what reporting is and writing isn't. As a reporter you can't embellish, leave out details with abandon, condense characters, or create. Just ask Jayson Blair. As a reporter, you are a statistician, a recorder of happenings, not an alchemist.

Bob has a cache of his fiction stored on the blog but most of it is dated and his blog appears to be a repository for his body of work. Miss Missives delved briefly into the fiction but concerned herself mostly with the actual blog entries. That Bob reports rather than creates is my main complaint with the Bob Files. He begins writing about something that could build into a great story, but it never really goes anywhere. And Bob, don't tell Miss Missives nothing good happened, because if you are an observer, a natural storyteller, something interesting always happens. Remember Paul Harvey's The Rest of the Story? That's what kept coming to mind as I made my way through the Bob Files. Where is the rest of the story? Where is the hook, the meat, the twist, the thing that brings it all together?

Every so often, Bob hits the mark, makes the connection, shows his funny side and delves beyond the straight reporting. Still, it happens infrequently enough that I don't think he's going to grab people who happen upon the site.

As far as design goes, the space is clean and uncluttered. The drop down archive is helpful and the categories are manageable, making navigation easier. Bob, I would add a Home button to your tabs and perhaps a Best Of in order to get readers and keep readers. Bob posts regularly and has posts of varying lengths, so he's on track there.

This isn't a case of a blogger that can't write. Bob knows the difference between to and too, he doesn't split his infinitives. He can put words together in a way that is clear and readable, just very little I'd actually care to read. Now I'm not looking for sordid tales or BabyMamaDrama. One doesn't have to slide into the maudlin, dramatic, confessional posting to tell a good story. Is it fair for me to want Bob to spin his class reunion into a tale of boy makes good, or cheerleader got fat? Maybe not but why else will readers come back than for interesting material? Good writers who want readers do not just write for themselves. Good writers don't simply catalogue, rather they selectively add and remove details that make the colors of life a little bit brighter, the heroine a bit more ravishing. That's why we read them.

I will illustrate this with a bright, shiny example. If you look at this post, notice how she left out a slew of the mundane details, the minutiae. Notice that each piece of dialogue is fundamental in pulling together the moment. Notice how she tell you about her grandfather through his habits and actions and words, not a straight head to toe litany. What she writes in very few words builds two characters that you can just see in your mind. Now do you think it happened exactly this way? Probably not, but good writing made it larger than life.

My advice to you Bob is this, read over some of your favorite writers and figure out what makes them good. You can write and you like to write so put some time into making it good for the readers too. Writing is like sex and Old Man Dunphy was right, making sex is like a Chinese dinner, it ain't over 'til you both get your cookies. Because I didn't get my cookie Bob, you get this: