42point1

glad to be back in my own little corner

Okay, so it seems I'm not ready to let go of the subject of niches just yet, mostly because of in interesting discussion with Sylvain, who reminded me that in French, "niche" also refers to a doghouse.

Which prompted me to think about the irony of being "in the doghouse", and wonder how you could turn that negative idea into something positive (this is something that Sylvain is good at, seeing the good side of things).

Which, in turn, got me thinking about Snoopy's doghouse.

You know, Snoopy's doghouse?  Okay, ostensibily a doghouse, but really a place where Snoopy lives out his fantasies, whether being a writer, or a WWI pilot in his Sopwith Camel.  The doghouse also developed a reputation for defying the laws of space and physics, being, like a Tardis, much bigger and more splendid on the inside than it appeared from the outside.

So, in this sense, the niche becomes a place of imagination and creativity, something to be valued and perhaps envied.

The idea of being "in the doghouse" also got me thinking of that other punishment common in my own childhood, being banished to the corner (oh, come on, surely I'm not the only one?).  What else to do when stuck in the corner but to let your imagination run free:

(Sorry about the bouncing magic wand, but I wanted the version sung by Lesley Ann Warren, and that's the only one I could find out there.   I loved this version of Rogers and Hammerstein's "Cinderella" when I was a kid, which probably explains a lot about me...)

So, there -- I worry about the niche becoming a ghetto, but I forget that it can also be a place of great imagination and creativity.  We here in the niches of the world are often producing some interesting stuff, and maybe those of you outside the niche could take a few lessons from us.

ding, dong, the niche is dead

I've been doing a lot of thinking about the whole concept of niche podcasting lately -- it started when I was working on my presentation for Podcamp Montreal, on, not surprisingly, podcasting in the niche.

Then I went to the session on -- wait for it -- niche podcasting given by the delightful Jean-François Blais, an engaging storyteller who hosts the podcast Bordel de Mer, on what might, quite rightfully, be considered a niche subject, les chants de marins, or sea shanties.

(Aside:  go, run, listen, subscribe to Bordel de Mer.  It is *wonderful*, and has been accompanying me out to the farm to pick the last of the tomatoes, and handfuls of flowers for the vase in the kitchen.  Yes, I sing out loud, out in the fields.  It is enchanting.  The podcast, that is, not my singing.)

It was during that session that the idea that had been bothering me a little began to really pester me. And then, not too long after Podcamp Montreal, I was listening to an episode of the Canadian Podcast Buffet, in which co-host Mark Blevis interviewed Tyffanie, a podcasting drag queen from Kingston, Ontario, and host of the podcast Breakfast with Tyffanie.

At one point, Mark mentioned about being (pleasantly) surprised by finding out that what Tyffanie does in her podcast -- her niche podcast -- is not so far removed from what, say, the Scarborough Dude does over at DicksnJanes -- essentially, both are voyages of self-discovery that take the listeners along for the ride; both create a truly authentic, individual presence in their podcasts.

And that was the moment when I realized that niche is a word that should be taken out and stabbed until it is well and truly dead.

Don't get me wrong -- the term "niche" is useful in at least a couple of ways I can think of.  First, it's a handy organizational tool, providing a way to connect like with like, so if we're interested in particular subject, we can easily see what's available to us.

It's also useful in thinking about niches as kinds of "neighbourhoods", places that build community and provide safe havens, to give folks places to hang out with others knowledgeable about the subject, or just to create connections and supportive environments.**

All too often, though, the term "niche" ends up being some kind of ghetto, where podcasts that maybe don't fit into the mainstream (and who decides what that is, anyway?) get shunted off.  It's almost as if being in the niche means that the subjects dealt with in the niche are marginal or, horrors, not quite as worthy as those outside the niche.

And that's the point that's been bugging me lately, because more and more, I don't see myself pushing podcasts into niches, into corners. More and more, I see all podcasts as the product of the passion of an individual (or individuals, in some cases), reflecting the individual expression or personality of the producer.

I had, quite honestly, not a lot of interest in sea shanties before I met Jean-François Blais -- but he was so engaging, and so passionate about his podcast subject that I *had* to start listening to him.  I listen because of Jean-François.  The music has just been a huge side-benefit.

And if you think that a middle-aged straight housewife and a younger (much younger) Drag Queen have nothing in common apart from the fact that we both live in university towns of similar size, well, you only have to listen to Breakfast with Tyffanie to hear that you're wrong.

Okay, it's true -- I'm probably not in what Tyffanie might have considered her target market -- and she is providing a place to share information on what the queer community in Kingston is up to.  That's my definition of niche as neighbourhood -- you sit down with your cup of coffee, just like Tyffanie does, and you listen to what's going on, a nice Thursday morning chat, if you will.

But over the course of the episodes I've listened to (I'm still catching up), Tyffanie covers a wide range of topics that are interesting to *me*, too. 

I like to think that this breaks down barriers between niches.  I like to think that it proves that we're all, each of us, just human, just trying to make sense of our lives, our worlds, and that all of us have much more in common than we realize.

And the term niche?  I see it as just one more thing that divides us, instead of bringing us together.

If I push this argument to its extreme, I might even say that every single podcast is a niche of one, because it's not the subject or theme of the podcast that's most important.  What *is* most important is that every single podcast is the product of someone who is passionate about *something*, whether that "something" is sea shanties, knitting, music, social media tools, technology, comics -- you get the idea.  The point is the passion.  The point is the person.

If you stick me in a niche as a podcaster and say, "Oh, well, she just podcasts about knitting and that's not my bag", then you may very well miss out on everything else I share or explore about my life. 

I sure don't want to miss out on what others think or believe, I don't want to miss out on what I can learn from their individual journeys of exploration, just because I make the mistake of shoving them into a niche.

I don't know about you, but my life has become much richer because of a lot of these so-called niche podcasts.

Sometimes you learn the most when you cross the boundaries...

_______________________________________________________________________

**As an aside: Sylvain Grand'Maison has some excellent and interesting thoughts on niche podcasting on his new site, Fono.  In French, but totally worth it, and the discussion continues in his comments.  Most particularly, I think we should be having discussions about niches -- and Sylvain points out the positives in working in the niche, which do exist.  I note with some interest that Sylvain, like me, talks about the passion behind the endeavor.  There is no point doing any of this if you aren't passionate about what you're talking about, whether it's yourself, your hobby, anything...

i dunno, i thought it was funny

So, Rob *is* going to put in a proposal for a podcamp session, and this is the title and description I suggested to him:

"Five Easy Pieces" : a podcast tech menu that lets *you* create the podcast you want. Rob will introduce you to five low-cost or no-cost tools that will easily get you from idea to finished podcast -- without having to tell the waitress to hold the chicken between her knees.

He didn't even crack a smile.  And said he'd come up with something -- what was it? -- a little more young and hip.

I dunno.  Nicholson is eternal, isn't he?

but they do realize i make no money podcasting, right?

Okay, so I'm torn.

I got an email today from the accounts manager of a major publisher of knitting publications, inviting me to submit the makings of an ad (they'll make the ad, they just want me to provide logo/images/copy for them to work their magic with) that will go into a special Canadian-focussed edition of one of their magazines this fall.

Now, on the one hand, I'm flattered.  I'm flattered that my wee podcast managed to find its way onto their radar (though I will say, I already got a mention in the most excellent "Made In Canada" column written by Lee Ann Balazuc in one of the magazines associated with the aforementioned published, an event which probably thrilled me more than the email I just received).

On the other hand.  Dudes.  I'm a writer, podcaster, knitter, and occasional pattern writer, and, most importantly -- I make no money.  Zip.  Nada.  Zilch.

Oh, I'd *love* to make money, especially with the writing stuff, but it's not happening, and I can't see it happening any time soon.

So the point here?  I do not have the $500 required to place this ad.  And honestly, even if I did have the money to do so, I'm not sure I could see the point in doing so, because I can't see how an ad in a knitting magazine (no matter how prestigious, though I suppose that is a matter of taste -- I rather like it, if truth be told) would really do me much good in the whole podcasting scheme of things.  I mean, getting the mention in the "Made in Canada" column didn't even result in a blip in my podcast stats, which caused much anguish and weeping and wrenching of hair --   

(okay, it didn't, but it did surprise me that I didn't even see *any* change in stats, though I point out that I have said that stats lie and are, thus, not a terribly useful tool for measuring much regarding one's podcast)

-- so as flattering as it is to be noticed and offered this opportunity, I think I'm going to pass. 

come together: how to earn instant karma and communitize your podcast

I've been thinking a lot about community lately, and what it means -- I move in two pretty active communities:  knitting and podcasting.  And I think there are parallels in both of them, often eerily so.

The on-line knitting community started as a kind of grass-roots, share the information, drag a dying craft up by its bootstraps kind of movement (okay, I'm over-simplifying here, but that's the gist).

The podcasting movement started as a kind of grass-roots, share the know-how, allow independent creators of media a chance to share what they do (also kind of over-simplified, but close enough for horse-shoes).

In both cases, once the popularity of the activity was realized, then the monetizers moved in. 

Don't get me wrong -- I don't think making money at either of these things is wrong or evil.  And there are some very talented people out there sharing what they know, creating great stuff, and earning some kind of living from it (or at least earning some extra pin-money, never something to sniff at).

What I object to are the folks who are like those characters in animated cartoons, their eyes all bugged out with dollar signs and the ka-ching of an olde-tyme cash register sounding in the background.

So invariably, my reaction to the question, "How do I monetize my podcast?" has been, "Why don't you think first about how to communitize your podcast?"

Yes, the dreaded "C" word.  I'm working on getting rid of it, but since I started floating some of these ideas the last few months with an eye to either submitting a presentation or a Jolt to Podcasters Across Borders, it's a word I've used (not unvented, I won't say that) in a tongue-in-cheek, slightly ironic way to counter the thunk of "monetizing" that I was starting to hear everywhere.

Because here's the thing -- I think you can build community without ever having a thought about money, and while I think you can make money without thinking about community, I don't think you can do it sustainably, over time.  I don't think you can do it if the first thing you think after, "Okay, I've learned how to use the tools, I've put up the first episode, " is "so now, how to I make money from this?"

So here are a few things -- (I've got more written down somewhere, but these are the top three I can come up with off the top of my head, and I think they're a good place to start) --   I think you can do to communitize your podcast, and build the kinds of relationships with people that can lead to some pretty interesting things.  Including money.*

1.  Forget about the numbers.

I know, I know -- numbers are something you can measure, it's almost scientific, right?  So if you see big numbers, that means you're doing something right? Right?

Not necessarily.  The first problem is that old conundrum of lies, damned lies, and statistics.  There isn't a tool out there that can measure your numbers properly, or in a way that is consistent.  Okay, you can get some vague ideas, and I'm not saying that stats aren't important.

But I don't think they should be the first thing you look at in order to measure success.

Instead, I think that you should be looking at quality instead of quantity.  Okay, you've got lots of downloads, but is anyone writing to you?  Is anyone giving you feedback?  Is anyone contributing to your podcast?

Even a handful of thoughtful comments is worth more than bunch of amorphous stats in FeedBurner, and are a better indicator that you're building community.  And never forget that good relationships take time and nurturing to flourish.

2.  Be a podcast listener first.

I can't emphasize this enough -- if you want to be a part of a community, you've got to give something back to the community.  Don't send in comments just to give yourself a plug -- in fact, don't even plug yourself when you do.  Send in the comment because you love the podcast, send in something that adds to the conversation, send in feedback, ideas, without thinking of getting something in return.

The interesting thing?  Others will mention what you do once they get to know you -- other people will recommend you, once they respect you, and they're going to respect you when you act in a way that commands respect.

Be a fan, first and foremost. 

3.  Go out to meet-ups.

This is a hard one for me, because I often say I'm better on the internet where I have time to think about what I'm saying.  But go out to meet-ups, and add to the conversation there.  Share what you've learned, listen to what others have to say.

The podcasting community is filled with interesting, diverse people.  Not everyone I meet will become a friend, but some have, and some are folks who might not become friends, but are still interesting to meet and spend an evening talking to/with. 

Okay, that's three -- can you think of more?  (It'll save me going to dig out my notes, god knows where I've put them at this point...)

*Here's the thing, and this comes from experience on the knitting community side:  if people know you, if they've had a chance to see where you stand and what you produce and how you treat them, then they are more likely to become *your* fans, and, more importantly, maybe even your friends.  They'll be more likely to spread the word about what you do, buy a product you're producing, try a workshop you're teaching.  If you've built that community, if you respect people and they've come to like you and respect you, then they will be your biggest supporters.  And that's something you can take all the way to the bank.

personal branding

I want to get a few thoughts about personal branding down here.

There's a lot of talk about "personal branding" out there in the podcasting world (and in the blogging world, and -- well, let's face it, everywhere).

The concept comes out of the marketing world, and just like companies want to develop a corporate or industry brand (you can be sure that the company that makes those shirts with the little alligator on them wants you to associate them with a certain level of quality and a certain standard of living, and if you want to be like that, you'll be wearing that brand), for very good reasons, we are, all of us, all of us hanging out here on the interwebs, advised to develop our own personal brand.

On a conceptual level, I get it.  My personal brand is how I market me, myself, and I to the world.  I want to be sure that people know who I am, what I do, what I stand for.  I want them to know what to expect when they read a blog post, when they listen to a podcast.  I want them to have a consistent and accurate idea of who I am and what I'm trying to convey.

On a personal level, though, I have to say the whole idea makes me really uncomfortable.  As I said at Podcamp Toronto, when I think of personal branding, it makes me think that I've turned into a box of soap, an object to be bought and sold.

Okay, honestly?  It's an idea that makes me more than really uncomfortable.  It's an idea that makes me really, really, really, really, (really), uncomfortable.

I've been turning this over in my head all week, because I do think that at Podcamp, what folks saw was this cranky old hippy broad who thought that anyone who wanted to measure success in stats and find any and every way to put advertising on their blog or show page or who (heaven forfend) actually wanted to make money from podcasting was -- well -- I dunno.  Wrong.

So let me say that I understand why businesses want to make use of new media tools and concepts in order to, well, further their brand.  I do understand, up to a point, why knowing how to gather stats and how to interpret them could be interesting (and thank you to the young woman who pointed out that depending on what kind of stats I was looking at, I could be getting ideas about the community I'm trying to reach out to, to connect with, to build on-line, I thought that was a brilliant point, and one I hadn't thought of).

And believe me, as someone without an income, I can understand how you might want to at least make podcasting revenue neutral (meaning the money you make covers your costs), and at best, make a modest living out of it.

I understand why you'd want to invest some time and thought into your personal brand, on how you present yourself to the world.

Perhaps what makes me uncomfortable in this is that I know that the "me" that people see sometimes isn't an entirely accurate or complete reflection of who I am.  I often think I'm best hiding out here on the internet -- I write decent emails and comments, mostly because I have the time and space and isolation behind the computer to allow me to stop being nervous or worry about what people are seeing when they meet me in person.  Because the physical me doesn't make a great first impression, and believe me, if you think I don't know that, then you're wrong.

But what assumptions will you make about me?  Will you know that I am very shy and quite introverted, and if I'm quiet when we meet (even after exchanging emails or comments), it's just that I need some time to get my bearings? Will you understand that maybe I just don't have enough money to invest in some hip clothing and a little make-up, that what I do have is better spent on a Y membership (oh, let me tell you sometime how that keeps me sane)?  Will you know that I have thyroid problems, and no matter what I try, I just can't lose the thirty pounds I gained before getting things under control?  Will you understand that I'm often tired and sick and occasionally depressed, and it means that I'm not always in top form when it comes to putting some cohesive thoughts together?

I suspect a lot of folks would just see me as a loser, as a slob, as stupid and not worth their time.  (On my bad days, I would think they were right.)

So much for my personal branding.

And this makes me sad, because what you'll miss is someone who actually has a not bad sense of humour, who, when she's on form, can be sharp and insightful and thoughtful and optimistic about the world, who is willing to open her mind and change her opinion if you can give me good reason to do so, and who is someone who cares very much about other people and what they do, who loves to see people making their dreams come true.

If I like your energy, if I feel the passion behind what you do, I'll tell you so, and I'll pray like crazy that you get what you need in life and get where you want to go.  If I know someone who can help you, I'll connect you with them.  If *I* can help you, I'll do it, as far as my limited energy will let me.

But if what you want is a box of soap in a happy, shiny package?  Well, then, I can't really help you there.

Z2P: From Zero to Podcasting in Two Days

I should have mentioned this earlier, but I'm fighting off a bit of a bug and find myself slow to get to things.

Z2P:  From Zero to Podcasting, is a two-day session that will be part of PodCamp Toronto 2008 (February 23 and 24, 2008 -- click on the link in my sidebar for more information), and will be especially interesting for those who are curious about podcasting and how to go about creating their own podcast. Even for experienced podcasters, there will be some useful opportunities to both learn from the experiences of others and to help others by sharing your own experiences.

In addition to the campfire talks, there will be technical workshops (including some “hands-on” sessions) presented by Mark Blevis and Bob Goyetche of the Canadian Podcast Buffet. Whether you’re a total noob wanting to know how to start podcasting or are already podcasting and want to improve your game, their workshops will have something for you.

Also bringing their podcasting experience to the campfire talks / circle discussions will be Sage Tyrtle of Quirky Nomads, the Scarborough Dude of DicksnJanes, and Michelle Sullivan of the Aquinas8788 Podcast.

Rob and I will be along to help out and offer up what we can, too -- and we're looking for others to come out and bring their experience to the circle discussions.  We all have a range and wealth of experience to bring to the table, we all work in different ways.  And, you know, the more, the merrier.  Contact me if you're interesting in participating, and I'll add you to the list.

nuntii latini

So, let's say you're an ancient Roman, and find yourself suddenly gifted with the ability to time travel.  And you do, and you find yourself in the twenty-first century, but you have No Idea what's going on.

How would you find out?  Where would you get your news?

Well, you'd probably get yourself a computer (shut up, yes you would, if you're clever enough to time travel, you're clever enough to get yourself a computer), and head over to the Nuntii Latini.

What's that?  What are the Nuntii Latini?  Why, none other than a weekly review of the news of the world delivered in classical Latin, courtesy YLE Radio Finland.

Leave it to the clever Finns to come up with this.  Have I not said I love Finland?  I do, I love Finland.

BTW, you can also get it as a podcast.  Why, of course, I subscribed.  Carpe diem, and all that.

(For the record, I tried to get this translated into Latin, but the on-line translator I found managed to butcher it royally.  I only had one year of Latin before the school declared it a Dead Language and pulled it from the curriculum, which I regret.  Mind you, I decided to switch over to studying Italian, which was definitely a good thing.)

comfort zone

Here is a thing I believe:  if you want to stay creative, if you want to avoid writer's (creator's) block, then there's no better way to do this than to do something outside of your comfort zone.

No, I'm not talking about bungee jumping or skydiving, it doesn't need to be that extreme.

It's as simple as choosing a book, a magazine, a blog, or a podcast that's on a subject you know nothing about, or that normally you wouldn't bother picking up, for whatever reason.

This is what I did recently:  after hearing so many raves for Mitch Joel's podcast "Six Pixels of Separation" (okay, that's a great title -- don't you wish you'd thought of that?), I decided to give it a try.

Now, those of you who know me know that I'm probably a marketing person's worst nightmare.  I'm opposed practically everything marketing stands for.  I don't like ads, I try to avoid them, and when I can't, I pick them apart to try to figure out what the seller is trying to push at me.  I quite honestly do not understand why we need more, why we need shiny, why we have to have The Latest Thing -- I'm the kind of person who figures out what I need, what would be the best thing to fill that need, and then I take care of that thing until it finally disintegrates into dust, and then I make a decision to replace it.

I like things that are solid, well-designed, reliable, and that do the job I need done. 

So it will probably surprise you that I decided to listen to Episode 84 of Six Pixels of Separation. 

Quite honestly, I don't remember a lot about the whole episode, but I did find myself rewinding and grabbing a piece of paper when Mitch got to his list of ways to make 2008 count.  I wrote down three that I thought would be useful for me to consider:

-  choose one social network and really get to know how to use it well. 

I'm not sure what to choose, as I'm only really involved in two social networks, Facebook and Ravelry, and both only out of curiousity.  I will say that Twitter intrigues me.  I'm not interested in people tweeting every minute of their day, I could care less about that.  But when my friend Sylvain starting putting out a daily thought on creativity, that was the moment when I realized that there could be more to Twitter than meets the eye.  So if I can figure out what *I* could do on Twitter that might be this valuable or interesting, that may be the one I choose to focus on this year.

- share:  blog/podcast/comment/write reviews/share who you are

Well, what can I say?  I've been blogging for years, podcasting for a while, but I don't think I take it all as seriously as I should.  I lurk on a lot of blogs/podcasts, and I have started making more of an effort to comment.  My aim for this year was to do more of that, to let people know when I've appreciated something they've created, and to share more of the things I've read or enjoyed.  Mitch has reminded me that this really is important.

- get yourself a new piece of hardware

As I said, I'm not interested in owning all the latest and greatest gadgets, and though I think Mitch was probably referring more to something in the tech line of things, there are a few things on my list that I really would enjoy having:  a Zoom H4 portable recorder (okay, I would practically sell my soul to afford one of these, this is the exception to my No Bling or Fancy Gadgets rule); a food processor; a bread-maker; a new Mac (mine is not well.  Rob has done some surgery on it to keep it limping along, but it's only a matter of time, I think); an iPod video.

But since I live on a limited budget, I'll probably only be able to save up for one thing this year, and as much as I drool over the Zoom H4, what I am going to invest in as my one piece of hardware?

A freezer.  If I really want to get serious about local eating, I need a freezer.  I live in Canada, and in the winter, the only local foods available are what can be stored:  carrots, potatoes, parsnip, beets, onions, some squash, some apples.  Even Barbara Kingsolver wrote that if she lived in our more northerly climate, she might have to consider supplementing with non-local foods during the winter months. 

My aim is to get my freezer this spring, and then start freezing local produce for use over next winter, so that even if I have to supplement with non-local produce, I'll be able to keep that to a minimum.  My main goal will be fruit, since that's what we lack most during the winter, but I'm going to think about some veggies as well.

So, the shiny, impractical Zoom will have to wait for another time.  Which is okay, because I'll really enjoy the fruits of the freezer, and when I finally am able to afford the Zoom, just think of how much I'll enjoy that, too.

There is, after all, something to be said for deferred gratification.

(Oh, and Episode 85 of Six Pixels of Separation is cued up -- because Mitch Joel does seem to have a few things to teach me.)

and since we were speaking about community

I love how I get thinking about something, and then I'm reading someone else's blog, and they're thinking about the same thing.

This morning?  I was mulling over the "Bring Da King" campaign, and then went over to see what Mark was thinking about today, and lo and behold, he's posted about it.

So, what is it? 

Podcasters Dave and Isabelle (from the Broca's Area podcast) and Scarborough Dude (from the DicksnJanes podcast) decided that it really was important that we get James Whittingham of the Regina Radio podcast to Podcasters Across Borders 2008.

Let me take a step back -- for the last two years of PAB, James has been unable to attend, but provided his own "live" coverage of the event.  It was absolutely brilliant and very, very funny (James is a very, very funny guy).  I remember saying to Rob that someone should pass around a hat and collect up the funds to bring James to PAB, and whammo -- there were Dave and Isabelle and Scarborough Dude with the idea.

As Mark noted, they're trying to collect up $1000 to cover travel and accomodation for James, and so far, they've managed to collect about $200.

Here's the thing -- they're not asking for much from each person, $10.   They'd probably happily take $5, and if enough people donated just that small amount, $5 or $10, the total amount would probably add up in no time.

I've kicked in a few bucks, and I'll probably kick in a few more, because I would really love to see James come to PAB. 

What I love about this?  It's more of that communitizing that I'm starting to harp on about.  It's about people pulling together and helping out another member of the community -- in the end, it'll benefit us all, because I'm sure that James'  actual live coverage of PAB would be even more brilliant than his virtual "live" coverage of PAB.

So, to quote Mark -- "I'm helping Bring Da King.  And you?"

(Note:  you don't have to be a podcaster to donate.  You can be a podcast listener, you can just be someone who would get a kick out of seeing if we could pull this off.  Every little bit will help.)