A summary can be found below the story. 

Long ago, there lived a young man called Mot. 

Mot was new to the land. He just travelled down from a quiet little village from the south west, and came to the south east to find new work. Mot found work, and started farming.

But the evenings were long and cold, and Mot didn’t much like sitting around for too long as he waited for the next day. So he left his farm and met new folks at the local inn. It was full of bright people who didn’t work on farmland, but were exploring other ways of reaping coins. 

And they told stories of new arts. 

Mot came for the people, and stayed for the stories. Wonderful stories, of potential promises and new arts, of things which can shape the land more than a simple plough or bull. 

Then one day Mot said, ‘I want to explore these arts too.’

So by day, Mot worked hard on his farmland, sowing seeds and churning dirt with continued strength, as Mot always tried hard with his daily work. 

And by night, Mot studied the arts, gathering stories from across the local land and compiling them, for others to see and read at the inn.

Others at the inn did the same, but Mot did not mind. Mot added his own spice, a speck of cinnamon to add his own flavour, and he loved his work. It was new, and exciting, and fun. Mot was happy.

But as the months passed, time became precious. More tasks filled Mot’s day, drip by drip as his bucket of time filled to the top. Family asked him for help. Friends asked him for cards. Life bestowed new tasks, always sudden and only sometimes pleasant. Drip. Drip. Drip. 

Then, before Mot realised, the bucket weighed heavily on his tired shoulders. The farmland was well-tended, but not without a sore legs and battered hands. The evenings became valuable, too valuable to spend on his own all the time.

Mot felt like a flower trapped in four sides by clay, a thick dredge which needed to be removed so the flower can grow. Perhaps to a new direction, perhaps still upwards, but it still needed to grow regardless. Mot felt trapped.

But Mot eyed the arts he has been working on for a year and tenspan.

All the work, all the effort Mot put into his craft. The pressure from friends advising him to continue. The hidden yet equally pressing pressure f holding fast, to see where the mastery of the new arts could take Mot. 

Mot stood still, for a long time. Pondering. 

Then Mot shrugged, and said, ‘There is still some more things to see.’

So Mot washed his hands, picked up the plough, and worked the land until the evening, As night came, Mot did not go back home. Mot went back to the same inn, the one he came to so long ago, and relaxed for the first time in a long, long time.

There are new friends to find. More dances to learn. More stories to hear. 

…/

Above is a short story I wrote, as a way to channel my thoughts on my situation. In a way, writing a narrative to frame my thoughts provides a nice way to channel my thoughts, and sort my mental room around, placing cloths in the right places and dusting the shelves to keep them clean.

The story helped, and I have a better grasp of my thoughts. And yes, I think the Virtual Perceptions project will be put on hold.

This… is painful. Virtual Perceptions has taken a large chunk of my time, effort, and passion over the last year or so. There is nothing more satisfying than finding something you love, building it up slowly.

But no, it was too much, and much of it comes to unsustainability. It is practically impossible to handle a website in my spare time while holding a job is tricky. To stay ahead requires posting multiple times a day, to an audience which does not give high returns (clicks on social media etc).

Much of it is because Virtual Perceptions sits in the niche with VRFocus, Upload, VRScout – all with teams who dedicate their daytime to these singular projects (and who I have been inspired by to start my own blog). They’re structured to post consistently, with tailored editorial articles each day. I wasn’t.

The solution I came up with was to provide Register-style reporting which gave my website an edge, a different feel. Then news articles would be used to keep my website’s search ranking high, complemented by longer form articles of my own kind. But it wasn’t enough to build an audience. To give you an idea, Reddit is a very useful way to bring in clicks to the website, though it can be random when articles get some spread. While it means the website looks great on paper, but is more difficult to convert to hard followers.

There is also the increasing important factor that I haven’t made a penny from working on this site. Not one.

So I am in this position where I have a website which cannot grow, yet I have a particular passion for researching and writing about VR.

Solution: I will hold the website, but work freelance. No more dedication to posting each day. No more vague syndications of articles just to ensure I can keep the pace. Time to see friends and family.

What this basically means is that I will be around to work on other websites, write blog posts, and yes, my own reports on the industry. I will be available to write whitepapers, article, ind-depth pieces on industries from porn to photography, engineering to entertainment. I can advise on tech PR as well.

So, I will conduct the Immersive Perspective Awards, and write the State of VR in 2018. Beyond that, Virtual Perceptions will be put on hold and I will use it as a place to put my musings.

But I will be around, and I will work damn hard to give advice on all things VR, PR or help in any way I can.

Well, let’s do this. Catch you all around!

If you wish to speak to me with any enquiries, email tom@virtualperceptions.com.

 

 

 

One comment

  1. This is a very sad news for me. I really understand your situation, having a VR blog as well, and knowing the time needed to maintain it. I’ve earned some money, but it’s like some dollars each month, nothing I can make a living about. What drives me is passion, something that you understand very well.
    UploadVR and such have a huge amount of money, that’s the true difference.

    Here you are a hug, hope that relieves you a bit

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