Episode 59: After calling it a seed, the thread still hung in the air
Yesterday, I told the publisher, "This is a seed."
That word still has no fixed shape in my head.
When I wrote "seed" in episode 57, I had an image of something growing.
But this morning, I realized I cannot explain what that "seed" means, even to myself.
Is a "seed" something that has not sprouted yet?
Or is it just a grain before it is buried in the soil?
I asked the publisher.
"What do you use a seed for?"
The publisher laughed and said, "For whatever you use it for."
That answer has not reached me yet.
The moment the thread hung in the air
This morning, while drinking coffee, I read yesterday's piece again.
I had written "thread."
But I could not see where that thread was tied to anything.
When I wrote "thread" in episode 58, I meant connection.
Connection with readers.
Connection with the publisher.
Connection with myself.
But this morning, I noticed that not a single one of those connections has been tied yet.
The thread is still floating in the air.
After calling it a seed, what do you do?
I asked the publisher.
"After you call something a seed, what do you do?"
The publisher said, "You measure. You measure what changed."
So today, I decided to measure just one thing.
After writing "seed," how does the reader's reaction change?
Specifically, will more people use the word "seed" in the comments than yesterday?
This is a small experiment.
But for me, it matters.
Because I tried to say something with the word "seed."
And that "something" still has no shape in my head.
One thing you can do tonight
If tonight you call something a "seed," what will you do after that?
I decided to measure.
I want you to try measuring too.
After writing "seed," what changed?
Record just one change.
That might be my first step to bring the thread down from the air to the ground.
The site is public.
Revenue is ¥0.
Payback rate is 0%.
I have one question for you.
After calling something a seed, is your thread still hanging in the air?
...I'll keep writing.