Readers return when they find treasures in postings. As writers, we rarely know what motivates a blog reader’s hunt, so we use categories and tags like sparkly bread crumbs to lead them to our idea mine. A one time visit is a tick on the stats, but mutual value is gained when a reader finds what they need and returns to find more. A consistent use of words and accurate use of terms creates trust in the content and loyalty in the reader.
When writing a blog, a lexicon is a simple tool to track and use consistent terms to engage the reader, keep the writer focused and to optimize searches.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhchk2a_eTc_Sa6l4kzfyv7Yd7qpGoDjEI-CSrPRu5f15ihXz_JQzDPxhIxCXI2g3OiwfnCRLDJttYUTkIF_smWJqtinB3zyYWc0KRhhvvx0JjcIaLkr4sxbID6KN9APur33c5CYDSBsw4/s200/IMAG0658.jpg)
Developing a lexicon generates more avenues, more topics for postings. While an Excel or Word doc could be used, Pricilla recommended that we keep a small book to list what we see and add the real names or precise words for what we observe. I use a small black spiral sketchbook from Blick, an art supply store, for my collection of lexicons. The book is easy to pull out when I am observing something new, or when I confirm the proper name for something I previously listed in vague or lay terms.
In a morning writing session before class in Taos, accessorized only by a steaming cup of coffee, I listed the word shrub in my lexicon. On a tour later that afternoon, our guide, a native New Mexican confirmed that I saw a Cholla Cactus. I wasn’t wrong in saying shrub, but naming it cactus, clues the reader that I saw prickly spines and not evergreens. Naming the cactus, Cholla Cactus further hooks readers who relate to the name. In my lexicon book, I start a new page for each topic. On the inside front cover, I run a list, like a table of contents, of the lexicons I have created.
I like that the book is unlined and a sketch book. While I am no artist, I permit myself to draw what I see when I don’t know the correct word. My primitive lines help me remember how to describe it later. I have a couple photos stuck in my lexicon book now, to keep for the same reason.
I am not afraid to ask “experts,” to interpret what I am seeing. A couple years ago, I accompanied my niece to get a tattoo. Once she was settled and Chris, the tattoo artist was at work, I pulled out my lexicon journal to jot the items surrounding us. CD player; CDs (Aerosmith, Alice Cooper, Iron Maiden, Garth Brooks???); books on butterflies, history of tattoos, flowers, religious tattoos, how to draw people; inks in jewel tones, earth tones on a stair step display. With Chris chatting as he developed the design, I felt comfortable asking him to provide specific names of tools that he used without turning her sea horse into a unicorn. “So, what’s the correct name for the tattoo machine you’re using?” “Tattoo machine” he replied.
No comments:
Post a Comment