Tonight, I want to start with an admission. It’s not going to be revelatory. In fact, I’ve alluded to it here before. But it’s something that’s been bothering me most of the weekend. And then, today’s episode of The Gist compounded matters. During Mike Pesca’s interview with Eric Newcomer, they discussed the difference between people writing for journalistic publications and those writing for their own. And the chasm of resources, in both time and money, which then dictates what each can cover. I think my posts are a great example of this, which leads me back to my admission: These posts are quick and mostly easy for me to do because they’re limited only by my creativity and opinions. Both of which, it seems, I have in abundance.
When I think I have an idea for each day’s post, I usually jot it down in my notebook. It can be an idea spurred by a podcast episode, like today, or a book I just finished (I’m percolating a post about Michelle Obama’s recent book), or some new turmoil at Twitter. In all of these cases, though, the words which get put down here are nothing more than the thoughts in my head. There’s very little reporting. Or research. Or even fact checking. It’s just the mental machinations from a man of a certain age, usually sitting on his couch watching a soccer match on his DVR, while the rest of his family sleeps. Mainly because this is keeping him from Tweeting. Or reading Tweets. But I think, eventually, I want to use this time for something more.
That same notebook where I capture ideas for what I want to write about — or, more precisely, practice writing about — also includes a long list of notions which would take more time and effort to tell well. There are ideas for content design talks I want to give. And pitches for 33⅓ books I’d love to write. Even a few short stories I used to tell our daughter at bedtime that I want to preserve, maybe even so other parents can tell their kids (ugh, that’s just a pretentious way of trying to avoid saying, “I think I want to write a children’s book or two”). As it is, I’m instead spending the evening hours sorting through a morass of news headlines and podcast episodes and revelations about music or soccer or politics which have passed though my grey matter during the daylight hours, trying to capture a snapshot of where my head was at today. Besides at work.
As I sit here tonight, I’m not really sure what that means for these posts going forward. I know that I enjoy writing them. I’m not sure they’re anything more than a vanity project at this point, though. Or, maybe, something my family can look back on to get a sense of where my mind was at during what seems like these very strange, liminal times. So, in that sense, they serve a purpose. But, eventually, I think I’ll want to spend the time and energy I’m using putting these together on something that will work better together as a longer-form collection. I have lots of ideas, but much like Pesca and Newcomer mentioned, they’ll take focused time and attention. And intention, something I’d like to get better at in 2023. For now, I hope these little missives are providing the right amount of distractions — both for me and for you — from whatever else it is that could be a different use of our time. The upside is that if I’m writing these, at least I’m writing, And if practice makes perfect, that can’t be all bad.
Head Down
09 January 2023
Duly noted.
Tonight, I want to start with an admission. It’s not going to be revelatory. In fact, I’ve alluded to it here before. But it’s something that’s been bothering me most of the weekend. And then, today’s episode of The Gist compounded matters. During Mike Pesca’s interview with Eric Newcomer, they discussed the difference between people writing for journalistic publications and those writing for their own. And the chasm of resources, in both time and money, which then dictates what each can cover. I think my posts are a great example of this, which leads me back to my admission: These posts are quick and mostly easy for me to do because they’re limited only by my creativity and opinions. Both of which, it seems, I have in abundance.
When I think I have an idea for each day’s post, I usually jot it down in my notebook. It can be an idea spurred by a podcast episode, like today, or a book I just finished (I’m percolating a post about Michelle Obama’s recent book), or some new turmoil at Twitter. In all of these cases, though, the words which get put down here are nothing more than the thoughts in my head. There’s very little reporting. Or research. Or even fact checking. It’s just the mental machinations from a man of a certain age, usually sitting on his couch watching a soccer match on his DVR, while the rest of his family sleeps. Mainly because this is keeping him from Tweeting. Or reading Tweets. But I think, eventually, I want to use this time for something more.
That same notebook where I capture ideas for what I want to write about — or, more precisely, practice writing about — also includes a long list of notions which would take more time and effort to tell well. There are ideas for content design talks I want to give. And pitches for 33⅓ books I’d love to write. Even a few short stories I used to tell our daughter at bedtime that I want to preserve, maybe even so other parents can tell their kids (ugh, that’s just a pretentious way of trying to avoid saying, “I think I want to write a children’s book or two”). As it is, I’m instead spending the evening hours sorting through a morass of news headlines and podcast episodes and revelations about music or soccer or politics which have passed though my grey matter during the daylight hours, trying to capture a snapshot of where my head was at today. Besides at work.
As I sit here tonight, I’m not really sure what that means for these posts going forward. I know that I enjoy writing them. I’m not sure they’re anything more than a vanity project at this point, though. Or, maybe, something my family can look back on to get a sense of where my mind was at during what seems like these very strange, liminal times. So, in that sense, they serve a purpose. But, eventually, I think I’ll want to spend the time and energy I’m using putting these together on something that will work better together as a longer-form collection. I have lots of ideas, but much like Pesca and Newcomer mentioned, they’ll take focused time and attention. And intention, something I’d like to get better at in 2023. For now, I hope these little missives are providing the right amount of distractions — both for me and for you — from whatever else it is that could be a different use of our time. The upside is that if I’m writing these, at least I’m writing, And if practice makes perfect, that can’t be all bad.
See you tomorrow?