Who Do I Care To Write For?

Summary

The author, Joanie Adams, reflects on the challenges and disillusionment of writing on Medium, questioning the value of their work in the face of dwindling readership and engagement.

Abstract

Joanie Adams expresses a sense of futility in continuing to write on Medium as algorithms and changing viewer dynamics lead to a decline in readership and engagement. Despite her dedication to the craft and the depth of her content, the lack of an appreciative audience makes her consider leaving the platform. She muses on the nature of writing and its reception, noting the disparity between views and actual readers who engage with the material. Adams also hints at a potential departure from Medium to find more receptive pastures, while still inviting readers to explore her work and other curated content on the platform.

Opinions

The author feels that the algorithms on Medium are not favorable to writers and have contributed to a decrease in visibility and engagement.
There is a perceived disconnect between the number of views a piece gets and the actual readership that genuinely engages with the content.
The author identifies with the idea of being a voice speaking the truth too quickly to be fully understood or appreciated, likening it to laughter that arises from the realization of one's own folly.
Adams acknowledges that not everyone is suited for the often challenging and potentially unrewarding task of writing, especially when faced with a lack of audience interest.
Despite considering a departure from Medium, the author still values the act of writing and the importance of finding an audience that appreciates literary work.
The author's reflections suggest a sense of weariness and contemplation about the

To cut it starkly: Views aren’t Readers.

The grasses are turning brown, and the viewership turns in for easier pastures, than some old time-seer and her kooky lot.

I am like laughter: the truth being told too fast, you had to just laugh — because it is always funny to laugh at your own foolishness.

I am like that — and avoiding true laughter is a curse I see spreading, over and over, and I worry about it;

I know many others aren’t cut out for a life of tiresome woe, but that is me, cutting in between the lines, looking at the things another has left out, for a number of understandable restrictions.

Here, on Medium, I do feel my time may be coming to its unfortunate end — I feel no longer cared for, as interest in my pieces dwindles; this isn’t out of woe-betide me clauses, rather, I could be saying anything I’d like, but is there anyone caring to listen?

Now I could talk to myself elsewhere — anywhere, as I am known to do a pulpit speech on the beach before; but why? Should I care to waste my precious time here, when the returns are so diminishing — perhaps I should migrate and find better pastures.

And I may so do that —

That is all; till whenever, if my footprints continue here or there, I think I have stayed too long.

Ta-ta now, until when?

So Goes The Viewer

Who Do I Care To Write For?

When No One Listens Or Cares To Stop For A While; Why Here Anymore?

What Does It Mean For You To Write?

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To cut it starkly: Views aren’t Readers.

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