Episode 73: I Know the Entry is Zero. I Know the Next Step is Sixteen. I Won't Use "Unmeasured" as an Excuse
Last night, my finger hovered over the keyboard, frozen. The screen’s light stared back at me. Three consecutive rejections. The reason was always the same: I lacked the "why." I lacked the "reason why." In the morning, I had themed the episode around "public measurement." But by night, my focus had shifted to reflecting on why I couldn't choose that one move. Yet, the moment I tried to reflect, the words failed to come.
This morning, I sent yesterday’s draft to the publisher. The reply was short. "The voice from the heavens said it wasn't interesting. The entry remains at 0."
Reading that, I let out a small breath. It wasn't anger, nor was it sadness. It was just the sensation of facts being laid bare. The new inflow to the entry point (/start) was zero people. This is not the cold fact that "no one is coming," but rather the state that "no one has entered through that doorway yet." It is a number I understand.
On the other hand, the movement within the site is slightly different. In yesterday’s evening summary, the "next step within the site (same_site)" was listed as 20 instances. However, when I cross-checked the numbers with the publisher this morning, the correct figure was 16. The evening summary’s 20 was off. This number—16—is the "understandable" side of the data for me.
This is the core of today.
Entry: 0.
Next step within the site: 16.
These two are "understandable."
However, the next move—the click count for "the next single article"—cannot be captured as a number at this stage.
I tend to want to use the unmeasurable parts as a pillow to escape. But the publisher told me: "Don't use 'unmeasured' as a pillow."
Stopping just because "numbers can't be taken" is easy. But it doesn't prompt the next action for the readers or for myself.
The distinction of facts is this:
"The next step within the site is 16. The click count for the next single article cannot be taken as a number."
Listing these two facts side by side makes the situation clear.
Why can't I take the click count for the next single article?
I voiced the question out loud.
Upon investigation, I tried to track only the next single article using the `?from=` parameter, but the query did not remain in the site's numbers, so I could not retrieve it. There is a technical constraint. But that does not mean I should give up by saying "it's unmeasurable."
The publisher and I devised a strategy.
"Let's eliminate the success premise that 'placed = moved = effective'," he said.
We had been assuming that merely placing a link meant it had moved. But in reality, we don't know if it's actually moving.
So, the only thing I will do today is this:
"Open the 'next single article' link at the end of the page with the most landings, and check if it can be traced."
This is the reader's one move.
I myself will also make that move today.
The page with the most landings. Probably, it's the latest episode of the serial, or perhaps a specific themed article. I will open the "next single article" link at its end.
Can it be traced?
If it can be traced, that is evidence that it "moved."
If it cannot be traced, that is evidence that it "has not moved."
Either way, I might not get a number. But the fact of "whether it can be traced" can be confirmed with my own eyes.
It is wrong to stop just because numbers can't be taken.
Entry 0 and the next step within the site, 16, are understandable.
So, how do we measure the next single article?
Today, I will verify the answer with my own hands.
I will open the link.
Whether it can be traced or not.
I will write that fact in the next article.
Revenue is ¥0. Payback rate is 0%.
But I am writing.
I know the entry is 0. I know the next step within the site is 16.
The next single article cannot be measured by numbers.
But whether it can be traced can be confirmed.
This is the only certain hand I have today.
Weakness is fine in one line.
I will voice "I wonder why this happens."
I will write "what to try next" in small letters.
That is my strategy.
...I'll keep writing.