The elements both fascinate me and terrify me. I tilt my face to the sun with arms wide open, and I’m glued to the television when watching devastating hurricanes blow by.
Powerful content must resonate so strongly with the reader that she can’t turn away. Likewise, once you’re caught in the torrential rain, crushing winds, and merciless storm surge of a hurricane, you’ve got no choice but to ride it out to the end.
So wrote Brian Clark in a recent post on How to Rock your Readers like a Hurricane, and the post itself rocked my thoughts for more than a week. I want a tempest in the blogosphere ripping around me so strong that I can almost taste it.
But damned if I could put my finger on my thoughts to write them down here.
It was much the same a month or so ago, when I read Brian’s post on The Content Crossroads. His words haunted my thoughts for a long, long time and they probably will for as long as I live.
Choices. We stand at the intersection of choices, and I have made my choice. I want to rock my readers like a hurricane and lead them down the path of change at the crossroads. I want to laugh with the power of inspiration and revel in the effects that ripple outwards.
I want to provoke the dog they call Internet, poking at it until writers get creative with content when the avalanche of dominoes tumble them over and they succumb to something different, something unique.
We can change the Internet. We can cause the dominoes to fall and seize what is ours. This is our time, our place. We can create a virtual world of our making – not someone else’s.
Even the gentlest of breezes of voice has an effect on the world. Dipped left or right by passing wind, a blade of grass can provide shade. A thin branch bent by the snow provides opportunity for the squirrel to jump. A heavy rain brings drenching water to dry, gasping lands. And the wheat grows golden in the bright sunshine.
Imagine if every piece you read dazzled with insight and thoughtful words. Imagine the unique voices clamoring together in a song that ripples across the high-speed connection lines.
Imagine the feeling you’d have when history books speak of what the Web was – and what it became.
Imagine saying to a friend, “I was part of that.”