Comments: the agony and the ecstasy
When writing for a print magazine, it sometimes seems like you’re throwing your articles out into the void, because you hardly ever get any feedback from readers. You might get a ‘thank you’ from the researcher whose work you’ve written about, but that’s usually about it. And the few times that you do receive any feedback, it’s usually some kind of criticism or to point out an error.
The obvious downside to this lack of feedback is that you never know whether anyone’s actually reading your work. But the upside is that you can work in a comfy, little fur-lined cocoon (figuratively speaking), where you can produce your work while remaining almost completely shielded from the opinions of readers. As long as the magazine editors like your work and keep using you, then you don’t really have to worry about anything else.
But that handy shield tends to disappear when you write for internet publications. More and more are now allowing their readers to post comments on the articles they publish. For some of the more specialised sites I write for, such as Biofpr, readers still don’t tend to leave comments even though they’re able to. But for web sites such as New Scientist, which obviously has a broad readership, you can expect to get comments on your articles.
Now these comments are interesting in their own right, although some are simply annoying, but they also give you an indication of the amount of interest generated by your article. The most recent article that I wrote for the New Scientist web site was published on Friday and detailed the development of a new type of paper that is stronger than cast iron. So far, this article has received over 60 comments, by far the most comments that any of my articles has ever received.
The vast majority of these comments are discussing the potential applications and implications of this tough paper. As the writer, it’s obviously tremendously satisfying that this article seems to have sparked so much interest (although it’s the research that really sparked the interest, rather than my wonderful way with words). Nevertheless, I’m still feeling fairly pleased with myself.
But I’m also slightly unnerved by the immediate feedback offered by comments, being much more used to throwing my work out into the void. It’s great to know that your work is being read and I’m more than happy to receive any complements, but I’m not so keen on criticisms.
However, that is what I’m now going to have to get used to, as even this blog can be commented on. No longer can I beaver away in obscurity and then simply hand over my finely crafted article to an imagined grateful readership. I’m increasingly going to have to hear what the readers think of those articles and whether they agree on the fine craftsmanship. They better had.
