He was building a platform. You can’t be a writer without one – so he’d been told. The problem was he didn’t know what sort to build, let alone how to build it. Some sort of stage, perhaps. He’d stand and perform – a juggling act. Toss words into the air and they’d come down in the right order. Hopefully.
Eventually, if he practised enough, he’d get spectators. How many? 300 by the end of the year? Yes, that would be a good goal.
He’d have to perfect the juggling though. Add variety, special effects, be up there every day, if only for a few minutes. Eventually build a whole routine, so they’d know which bits they liked best. He already had a couple – Thursday Interview, Pic’n’Post, every so often an update on the WIP too. But the rest was vague, so that was a second goal – refine the acts and print a big poster, ABOUT, so passers-by could take one look and see what was in the show.
Not that he’d hold their attention all the time. Quite understandable – they had so much to do. Some might come back regularly, though, see how the routine evolved. And he’d get to know them, swap a few stories, and they’d be more than spectators, they’d be friends. Goal number three. You couldn’t put a number on that, though. It happened or it didn’t. It wasn’t quantity but quality.
For the moment, in any case, the platform wasn’t even built. And when you’re hopeless at DIY, that in itself is a challenge.