Who’s Your Target Audience?

The views and claps you’ll never see

I have a theory: writers write for writers. I don’t think it’s original, but it’s important to reiterate because when you’re entrenched in a culture, world, or discipline, it’s difficult to see the proverbial leaves on the trees.

My theory is based on a similar observation of audiences at classical music concerts. In all my years of singing and associating with other musicians, the audiences were comprised almost exclusively of other musicians.

If you attend a lesser-known opera company’s production of Rigoletto, at least one of the people sitting next to you is bound to be a singer or musician (the usher counts too if you’re sitting on the end). If you attend a violin concert, you’re likely to find a disproportionately high number of string players in the house.

If you browse profiles on Medium, you’re going to find a lot of writers or people with writing-intensive jobs.

I’m confident that if we tested the theory or observation with real numbers and statistical analyses, we’d find this trend is pretty pervasive across most fields that thrive on peer-level support.

So who is the real customer?

This phenomenon is big in entrepreneurship and other professional development offerings all over the internet. There’s usually a Facebook group, mastermind, inner circle, or some other kind of community buy-in where you find other aspiring __________s who want to reach that evasive “next level of success and prosperity.” You see this trend in coaching quite a bit, and on the one hand, it’s fascinating, but on the other, it can be troubling depending on your perspective. Sometimes I wonder

if coaches’ rosters are full of other coaches, who are the clients they’re coaching the coaches to coach?

Questions like that make me wonder who we’re really writing for.

For example, there’s a strategy among YouTubers that basically boils down to like-for-like. The way it works is if enough creators get together and subscribe to each other’s channels, they can all monetize their videos once there are at least 1,000 people in on it.

It’s a means to an end, but what is the meaning of that end?

What value is being created for the rest of the world if we’re in our bubble collecting a few dollars by watching each other play Pink Floyd riffs on our bitchin’ guitars or Liszt transcriptions on our Steinways?

The Ripple Effect

So I have a complementary theory: writers write for writers who carry the message to non-writers. I don’t think anyone will argue the first point is accurate. Initially, we write for each other.

The magic is in who we interact with outside this circle of creators.

I learn so much on a conscious, unconscious, and subconscious level about life, art, music, language and the way the world works simply by reading and interacting with a body of like-minded people. Whether I intend to or not, I take those rich perspectives out into the world with me when I interact with others every single day.

It sounds a little lofty, but communities of writers are like the reticular activating system. The RAS in the human brain sifts through data and filters out the noise, leaving only the most important information. Conscientious consumers of information — who more often than not turn out to be writers — are typically very good at producing useful information as well.

What message are you carrying?

While it’s easy to stay in the bubble and settle into the solitary work of creating, it’s equally important to share it with people who would not otherwise have access or motivation.

For example, I have a very close-knit group of friends who have zero interest in reading for the sake of reading or writing for any reason outside of obligation. They read pieces I write out of curiosity or kindness, but that’s typically where it stops. They’re brilliant tradesmen, accountants, and project managers, but this brand of work isn’t in their wheelhouse. To be fair, I pay people to do my taxes and I can barely use a hammer, so it goes both ways, but I think the point still stands.

A lesson you learned and shared in something you write here may make its way into my friend Brandon’s ear because he’s having a baby soon and struggles with self-efficacy. An experience you had dealing with a difficult patient may help my friend Michelle in her work as an opthalmologist. Many of the nuggets I mine here are at work in the lives of the people I interact with every day.

So writers write for writers, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Good writing carries a message that ripples out to the most unlikely places.