By now, I think I’ve read at least 5 articles by different authors about how writing a fixed number of words a day has changed their lives. At the point of reading, it seemed like a perfectly logical thing that writing would aid personal development, since writing necessarily requires thinking and that thinking almost certainly involves some form of reflection. But it is, as with many things, easier said than done. What would I write about on a daily basis? A general observation doesn’t always warrant a 1,000 word reflection, unless it involves poor writing. Babbling hardly qualifies as something life-changing.

To find out how exactly daily writing would change me — not anybody else since this is a personal experiment — I will have to put it to the test. This means writing about something worthy of meditation, as Robert Pirsig puts it in his philosophical inquiry in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I prefer to write to think more clearly, which does not always translate to readability to a wider audience. That requires editing, which in turn requires reading what I have written. This can sometimes be fun but it is mostly a chore, mostly because I don’t know who I am editing for most of the time. Editors are supposed to make personal writing relatable to their intended audience, but the problem with this editor is that he doesn’t have a clue what kinds of people make up his audience. How does one get out of this quagmire and firstly find his audience and then his voice? Or is it the other way around…

I write reflections on what I observe and wonder. That makes for great journaling, I think. But how can I make it great for others? Writing in first person helps others to relate to what one is trying to say, and this is already what I do comfortably. My weakness, I think, is in feeling unworthy of being read. It occurs to me all the time that most people do their own meditation on multitudes of topics themselves, and my personal reflections would only serve to clutter people’s minds, no matter how succinct and valid they may be.

But I’ve also read countless articles published online and in magazines that a writer should not write to be read. Instead, he should write in an honest manner about the matters that matter to him. That is, he should willingly be vulnerable in his letters, reflecting and relating to the topic in a personable way to lead anyone who chances upon the letter into his frame of mind, hence, into engagement with the issue being discussed. The author’s job is therefore to effectively put ideas into the reader’s mind and to lead him to ponder on his own about the matter. Now, if this was the case, then I will not need to know my audience — it would consist of any human being. But principles of marketing would oppose this thought because that’s too many people to reach. Nobody can reach everybody, because people are different and are interested in a plethora of different things. I buy this argument, and think it foolish to attempt to write for everyone and anyone.

This brings me to the next question, which is a logical progression: am I only going to write when I have an audience in mind, or am I supposed to write to find an audience? As far as I can recall, I haven’t read any essay that answers this question directly. I must attempt an answer myself.

Let’s start by considering the first scenario — to write with an audience in mind. For this to be possible, I require the profile of my readers. Are they mostly male or female? Students or workers? Workers or professionals? Environmentalists, engineers, or philosophers? Conservative or liberal? Religious, atheistic, or agnostic? Assuming that I have somehow obtained this information, I must also know what these readers expect to gain from my reflections. Is it for insights, personal development, “life hacks”, or, God forbid, killing time? A quick note: if it is for the last reason, I ought to be writing fiction… at least that would make it interesting. With this two sets of information, I should be able to craft posts more effectively. The first set of information (reader profile) will direct the tone of the post, and the second set (reader expectations) will guide content. It is all swell, except… well, how am I supposed to obtain such information? Trial and error is one possibility. That would entail writing a predetermined number of posts that are catered to an imagined audience — say, professionals interested in philosophy who want to be part of a community of everyday philosophers — for a period of time, and comparing the readership to that of catering to another imagined group of people. But this goes against the grain of the wisdom of those who warn against “writing to be read.” I don’t think I can extract the amount of value that different sets of readers are gaining from my posts, which would be ideal in helping me determine what and who to write for.

What now, then?

Let’s consider the second scenario, that is to write to find an audience. This immediately appeals to logic: one should write about things that interest him since that would guarantee better writing, which would naturally attract some readers. But, as mentioned before, the writer wouldn’t know what tone to use since he (or she, I’m sorry it took me so long to realise my insensitivity to gender equality) is unable to discern whether young college students or older retirees are going to read his reflections. Assuming this lack of tonal precision isn’t as big a problem as I imagine and that some people will still be interested in reading, there seems to be one more fundamental issue that is difficult to address. It is a philosophical question: would the value of such writing justify the time and effort of producing publishable (or readable) content, or would that time and effort be better spent in creating other forms of work that may be more valuable to other (but not necessarily more) people? In other words, I am asking if I should write 1,000 words daily of something for someone (as opposed to for myself) or, for example, write professionally for a blog with an established readership? I am assuming here that the latter would reach more people but I am not presuming that it would be more valuable to them than my daily 1,000 words of reflection. Bear in mind that writing professionally requires one to follow the organisation’s content strategy, which necessarily means less reflective writing in my case, since I am no columnist at the moment (even if I were, I suspect content strategy still applies). My mind tells me that they are both difficult paths, but attempting to determine which is more valuable is even more difficult a task.

But what I have just done is complete my first day of writing 1,000 words — 1,180 to be exact. And I have essentially explored the idea of writing and being read… although a definitive conclusion has not been reached, I am clearer on the issue of writing — something I owe to this exposition. Maybe I have reached a conclusion. Writing is not just for the audience, it is for the writer as well. If that is true, the value of writing 1,000 words everyday will probably be tremendous, audience in mind or not.