You've just got to figure out which ball to hit...
Surely, sooner or later, one of them is going to go in the pocket!
Not a problem Paul Newman had, obviously. Fast Eddie Felson hardly missed - and he was Paul Newman…
Attempting to engage with a readership - including choosing what to post on Substack - is a little like deciding whether to go after the 12- or 14-ball. And then you need to decide how hard to hit it, backspin or topspin, left or right sidespin. Or just plain ball. Some people just slam something in hard and fast - the ‘soundbite post’ that’s vacuous but quick to read and easy to like - while others attempt the delicately finessed shot that has a bit of everything on it and in consequence goes on forever. (8 minutes for a pool shot? Really?!)
TL;DR
Okay, I confess. I had to look it up. “Too long; didn’t read.” I should also confess that I’d assumed it was something less prosaic, belonging to a younger generation, part of a dialect I wasn’t qualified to understand never mind use… But no. Too long; didn’t read
When you think about it, playing pool is an excellent metaphor not only for Substack engagement but for writing in general.
I have two metaphorical tables in my writing study.
The first is my Substack pool table. Resisting the easy ‘slam dunk’, I spend a lot of time trying out new shots (delicate or otherwise), loving the sensation when a spot or stripe disappears from view. However, after 8 months of playing on this table I’m pretty sure I’ve still not quite got the rules, and - based on the available evidence (the ‘dashboard’) - I am nowhere near working out the secret as to how to get on the 8-ball!
My second table is a traditional snooker table. At 12’x6’, this is where I play ‘the long game’. Books are written here. Mind you, it’s a much harder game - the pockets are so much further away! - and it can take you an awfully long time to clear the table… One of the challenges is that, when you’re bent over the snooker table, the nearby pool table looks as if it will be much more fun! Bang! In the pocket. Crash! In the pocket. On it’s bigger brother you often find yourself stymied behind the yellow when you need to go after a red some ten feet away…
So where am I now?
Well, obviously on the pool table - and about to drop the five ball in the far corner (i.e. this post). Behind me, another frame’s nearly over, the snooker table’s almost empty: the final pink and black are sitting over the pockets and I’ll drop them in soon enough (6th July). Then it’s time for a re-rack - and that nervous moment when you send the white ball down to table to break-off, never quite sure how the reds will scatter…
I’ve decided it’s good having both tables - even if I haven’t mastered pool yet.