African souvenirs displayed with new and old knick knacks. A menagerie of beauty and significance adorn my living space. An eclectic collection I call home.
This hodgepodge taste moved from my walls to my writing. Wanderings and pauses gathered and woven into stories. From the North Carolina coast with Big Earl, to a Tanzanian market for a red dress, and into Judges with Samson’s mighty momma. Life happens and words follow.
But podcasts inform me to maximize audiences, numbers, and growth, a niche is needed. Not too broad, not too narrow, but just right. Quality words focused on a sweet spot equates to more of YOU. Visitors who will search, click, read, and repeat. YOU: the audience, platform, and following writers dream of and hope for.
Why do I bulk at the experts’ advice? Why do I resist? Perhaps some rookie-writer ignorance but also fear. I fear a niche will confine, restrict, and squeeze like my jeans. Limited and forced.
My words flow from life in the shadow of His Presence dipped in His Truths. And because I can’t ignore the chicken that crossed the road during my walk. Nor dismiss the dollar bill washed up in the waves. Or overlook the green and purple mylar balloons tangled in the tree top. Or forget the letter from a young boy in Peru who asks for prayers for the homeless children in his country.
That’s me. Just like my decor, a bit scattered, mixed and matched, and all-over-the-place.
As I wrestle with the pros and cons of niches within the writing world, Colossians reminds me:
And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Colossians 3:17 (NIV)
Maybe my niche is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you will get.