Finding a Googlewhack

As we know many people spend hours searching Google with varying degrees of success but what a lot of people don’t know is that there is a Holy Grail within Google that urges searchers on to find this bizarre treasure. It is to find a Googlewhack.

 A Google what? A Googlewhack. This is the gold at the end of the rainbow for many intrepid explorers. A Google whack is when you get a single search result from a two word enquiry.

 My son has been trying for years to achieve a Googlewhack by entering obscure financial terms into the search box without any success. He was green with envy when I told him that I had stumbled across such a find entirely by accident.

 It happened when I was writing a tutorial for my computer pupils and I wanted to confirm that there was a town called Auchtermory in Fife in Scotland. On entering “Auchtermory” and “Fife” into the search box I got the Google whack of a solitary search result. It referred me to a single website on the subject written in Italian!!

 Funny how a little serendipity can bring sunshine into one’s life – either that or one realises that “little things please little minds”. 

Video Interview with John Wiley

So what happened at my meeting with John Wiley? Well it was all very exciting. The team seemed to have nothing but good news about the book.

I was met in Reception by Colleen who has been my staff and guide for the past year and taken through to the technical division’s annexe where I was introduced to Louise, my senior marketing manager; James, who is the IT guru of the whole project; Chloe, in charge of the video project and Shaun, the associate marketing director. We were later joined by Katy whose job it is to persuade the printed media to sit up and take notice.

First of all there have been a current total of 2500 orders for the book and that does not include Amazon or WH Smith who have yet to place their orders. They all seemed pretty impressed by this figure but I had no idea how good this result was until they explained that this was the type of figure they aimed for when marketing a really popular “for Dummies” title!

The next bit of great news is that the book is going to appear in the Daily Telegraph list of Christmas books and that there is a chance that it might feature in the WH Smith Christmas catalogue!

I actually got my hands on the first copy of the final print pages, stapled together in chapters, and it looks very good. They also gave me a copy of the cover of the book which is very stylish.

They are all so excited by the prospects of the book that they are using it to try out some innovative marketing ideas such as the associated website – www.pcwisdom.co.uk – and the video interview which will be edited to include images of the published book, photos of me teaching at Age Concern and a regular “instant messaging” session once a week for the next six months.

They are also looking into the possibility of a series of books for “the Older and Wiser” – something like the ‘for Dummies’ series but aimed at the more mature market. This is going to take about 3 months before they decide whether it is a viable project. Nevertheless it is all very exciting and could provide writing work for me for some time to come. There was even some light-hearted discussion about the possible translation of the book into other languages – but perhaps that is a bit of wishful thinking on my part. There was further talk about signing sessions, newspaper and radio interviews

It was fascinating to be part of a publishing process and looking at things from the other side of the desk. For instance, although the publication date is 17th October, it will take a couple of weeks following the publication before the book starts to appear in the High Street bookshops. The online book sites will get them within a day or two of the publication date. They wanted to know how many postcards I needed. To me postcards are things you send on holiday which arrive three weeks after you get back so they had to explain that ‘postcards’ to the publishing industry mean small flyers to be handed out like confetti to all and sundry. I though 30 would be enough but we finally agreed on a figure of 200!

The came the video session. I had rehearsed my monologue for several days and again on the train journey. This proved to be a mistake because it turned out like an oration rather than coming over naturally. Basically I had over-rehearsed the words.

The video was filmed in a rotunda-like room with me holding a copy of the book in front of the microphone clipped to my shirt.

“Don’t look at the camera.”
“If you need to pause then hold your posture for a couple of seconds to allow for the later editing.”
“We are getting glare off the cover so could you hold it further to the right. No, now your fingers covering up the title. That’s it.”
“Can you move round the sofa? We can get a better light from that position.”

The instructions came thick and fast. There had to be a number of different takes to allow the editors to make their choice of the best angles. The whole process – which I gather will result in a 3 minute video – took about one hour 45 minutes but this was considered to be a shorter than average time because everything had gone well. Personally, I thought I had been rubbish – fluffing my lines, forgetting to look in the right direction and, on one occasion, managing to drop the mike receiver box on the floor with a resounding crash. In spite of this they all thought it had been a successful session so I bowed to the experts and kept my trap shut.

One interesting result of all this is that I watch television interviews in a completely different light as a result of my experiences. My free advance copies should arrive in 13 days time.

I can’t wait.

A Day Out to Chichester

The day finally arrived when I was due to go down to Chichester to video and interview to promote my new book “Computing for the Older & Wiser”

 

It was a beautiful Autumn morning when I left home at 8.45 to drive to Colchester station – a light mist was still clinging to some of the sheltered meadows. I had already bought my ticket so there was no rush and I had to wait for about 20 minutes on the platform because the train was running slightly late. The journey to Liverpool Street was uneventful and I got quite a bit of work done in learning my lines for the interview.

 

The trouble started on the Underground Circle Line where there had been a security alert at Temple stopping all services on the Circle and District lines. Station staff suggested that service would be up and running within 20 minutes so it seemed better to wait rather than fight the London traffic in an expensive taxi.

 

The first Circle line train eventually arrived after 50 minutes – followed, like buses, by three more within 4 minutes. I declined the first train which resembled a can of sardines and joined the second train which had seats to spare. On arriving at Victoria I found that I had time for a quick cigarette in the street outside before catching the direct line to Chichester. This particular rain stopped at so many stations that it required three screens on the departure information to include all the possible destinations. But I had a seat and I could use the time for more rehearsal in my mind. The train rattled its way through old familiar stations like Crawley, Three Bridges, Horley, Horsham, Ford and Barham before trundling in to Chichester.

 

I was proud of the precautions I had taken to prevent any problems arising through he day when my hearing aid battery failed at Gatwick airport. Well done! I had remembered to pack a couple of spares in my briefcase.

 

Searching for a taxi rank to complete my journey to the publishers at The Atrium, Southern Gate I was really chuffed to see that the building in question lay some 30 yards beyond the line of cabs.

 

I had rung ahead to inform them of the delay in  my journey so a selection of cling wrapped sandwiches and a cup of coffee were awaiting my arrival. The John Wiley team were all very friendly and excited by the prospect of the book. (There will be more on the actual meeting in the next instalment.)

 

The meeting and video took about 2½ hours so I was ready to make the homeward journey by 4.30. A few small cumulus clouds hung in the blue sky over contented cattle grazing the water meadows alongside the river Arun. Venerable oak trees provided shelter for ruminating sheep – the tail end of a lovely day but it was all about to go downhill. 

It started at Barham where we were joined by a large number of passengers permanently connected to their mobile phones. The girl in the seat behind me was chatting loudly to a girlfriend for the hour long journey to South Croydon. If said said that she had taken the day off once she must have said it fifty times. We all heard about the problems she was having with her boss, her hairdresser, her family – especially her mother “who never does understand” – her lack of a current partner and the fact that she could never buy a pair of shoes that fitted her. Those of us remaining on the train at South Croydon gave a collective sigh of relief as she got off the train – only to be replaced in the same seat by a corn-rowed rapper who was endlessly explaining to his ‘crew’ dat he was comin’ in to Victoria and would meet dem at de usual place before goin’ on to de gig.

 

The Victoria thoroughfares were more like the arrivals hall at Gatwick airport with non- English speaking tourists toting huge suitcases who seemed unable to workout the automatic check out gates. T o give then their due only two of the available seven gates were actually working at the time. In what felt like a stampede of wildebeest during the great Masai Mara migration I felt sorry for two startled pensioners looking like baby giraffes caught up in a lion attack.

 

Once more to the Underground, my friend, once more. The first ten trains were destined for Upminster of all places and there was no sign of a Circle line train. What is the population of Upminster anyway? The chap beside me asked if this was the right platform for the Circle Line and received a vaguely confident reply from me that it was. He went off in search of a member of the Underground staff – he must have had the confidence of a Livingstone hoping to find the Victoria Falls. In spite of this he was back after 20 minutes with the news that there had been an electrical fault at South Ken but the line was running smoothly again. The line may have been smooth – well it was for the endless succession of Upminster trains – but it took another 15 minutes before the first Circle line train made its applauded appearance. I swear that during the journey from Victoria to Liverpool Street I never once heard the English language spoken. There was a French conversation going on around me and further up the carriage were the indecipherable sounds of Eastern European tongues. People were reading newspapers in Greek, Italian and what looked like Russian. I felt like singing “Where have all the English gone? Slow time passing.”

 

Most of this international community joined me in getting off at the main line station to the East. Checking the noticeboard I reckoned I just about had time to grab a coffee from a bunch of Slavs serving caffeine at one of the station outlets. Unfortunately none of the Slav servers or their Eastern European customers seemed to grasp the concept of British currency and I had to abandon the queue to catch the Norwich express whose first stop was Colchester. I felt as though I had to race past seventeen first class carriages before reaching one that agreed to transport us ordinary mortals on the long journey.

 

I believe there is a chain of drinking houses spread throughout the capital called TGIF – standing for Thank God it’s Friday. This train should have been christened OGIF – Oh God It’s Friday! Every seat was taken! Standing room only throughout the cattle class carriages.

Inevitably there were several people who need the ‘bathroom’ during the journey which meant a series of exercises that experienced mountaineers would have relished in preparation for their ascent of the Matterhorn. To give them their due most of the passing traffic offered mumbled words of appreciation or apology – except for one man who made the journey three times without a single word of thanks. He was in his mid thirties so it was unlikely to be prostate trouble so what was his problem? 

I am definitely a country boy and only use the capital’s transport services on an irregular basis so I consider myself fortunate compared to my fellow passengers to have to endure this week in, week out. They have all adapted in different ways to cope with the vicissitudes of modern travel even if it means reading a book on the hereditary DNA of leaf-cutter beetles. I kid you not. That is what the seated passenger was reading below me and the ticket lying on the table in front of him showed that he had the rest of the journey to Norwich to complete his research.

 

About three quarters of the seats had those little booking slips perched on the top of the back rest. Does anyone understand what these billet doux mean? People seem to grab a seat whether it has a reserved ticket or not.

 

But enough of this complaining, I was on my way home and Colchester was the next stop. Oh no, it wasn’t! The loudspeaker system soon burst into life offering us the sad information that a gentleman in Carriage G needed medical attention and therefore we would be making an unscheduled stop at Witham where the paramedics were waiting to bring him back to life.

 

Thirty minutes later we were back on track again and the train exhaled a large part of its load onto platform 2 into the Colchester night. The down, under and up again walk to the exit reminded me that I had two replacement knees and a recently operated on Achilles tendon but the car was only half a mile away and I was nearly home. Once in the car I tried to ring Jen on my mobile only to be informed that my pay-as-you-go tariff had run out and therefore my attempts to ring home were being denied.

 

I pulled into the driveway at 8.45pm exactly 12 hours after leaving for my day out to Chichester. It had been an enlightening day but I am glad we live in the rural backwaters of East Anglia with birdsong for loudspeakers.