Medium — Melts in your mind, not in your hands
Dear M,
Let’s talk. First, I like you. You know that. We’ve been buddies since March 7, 2015. (Not quite the Ides of March, but close enough for government work — and hand grenades.)
I joined Medium because my son (“The Lawyer”) said you were “The Next Big Thing.” Like Twitter — but smarter, deeper, niftier. So in I jumped. Since then, I’ve written, composed, penned, created. Some pieces have been read & recommended; scanned & clapped; skimmed & ignored.
I’ve found some friends, few enemies, several muses & a genuine fan or two. Thanks for that. But (and there’s always a but, isn’t there) after all that clicking & clacking — typing thousands of words, numbers & spaces — I’m less sure today what The Big M stands for than when I started. Muddled? Maybe. Messy? Perhaps. Magnificent? Probably not . . .
Don’t get me wrong. As I said upfront, “I like you.” (I like Mr. Snuffleupagus, too — but have no idea what he is.)
Here’s the deal: If Twitter is like Niagara Falls (fast-moving, chaotic, flashy-splashy, hazy-crazy) Medium is like Minnesota: “Land of 10,000 Lakes.” Pick a lake, make friends, go home at summer’s end.
Maybe that’s the problem: Too many lakes.
According to Wiki, Minnesota has 11,842 lakes over 10 acres in size. The state’s portion of Lake Superior is the largest at 962,700 acres. Medium well-serves its Lake Superior clients — smart, hip, high-tech, savants. (a.k.a. “The smartest people in the room.”) Everybody else? Not so much.
Me? I write poems, meditations, and (occasionally) something resembling humor. Will I continue to hang around Medium despite my misgivings? You betcha. Why? For starters, I don’t need a million friends/followers. 1,000 or so are just fine. (I’d hang around for 100; even 50.)
So where does that leave us …
How about this: While Medium never became “The Next Big Thing,” it became “Something” — though I can’t with confidence define what that “something” is: Duck-billed platypus? Rare eastern bongo? Central African okapi? Or a racehorse designed by committees.
Were I your best friend (I’m not, but let’s pretend) here’s what I’d say: Disregard the little trees at the smaller lakes — even if it means dropping me. Instead, go for rich, ripe fruit, not lavish loose leaves. Maybe that means growing “by invitation only,” like National Geographic used to do. Nurture the best and brightest, standouts in each field of endeavor: Highlight hot topics, leading edge, bleeding edge stuff. Pick people who are knowledgeable, but write right. For smart, hip consumers.
Yeah, try that. It might work.
So, dis-invite me if you must. I’ll go quietly into the night — poems in hand; meditations, too — wishing you well as I depart . . .
Oh, and one more thing: Below are a few more M designs to consider as your logo. I like the one on the lower left. Why? It’s messy — like me. jsl
