On Writing

by Kent Aitken

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I have an interesting relationship with writing. I actually frequently feel unqualified, unsuited, or presumptuous in writing anything.

In my head, every sentence I write starts with “I think,” or “I believe,” or “It appears to be the case that.” My fingers edit those parts out, for two reasons. One is that you, reader, can infer that I believe the things I’m writing by virtue of the fact that I’m writing them. The other is that it would otherwise make for a terrible read.

But it belies how doubtful I am. I’m really not that self-assured.

So why do I write, and publicly?

1. Practice. Writing is an invaluable skill, and consuming the writing of brilliant others will only get you so far. This is part of the impetus behind Tariq’s writing challenge (which I've, embarrassingly, missed for two weeks). I think that I’m pretty good at putting together sentences. I’m far less comfortable in my ability to draw connections between concepts, and to organize thoughts logically to make it easy for readers to follow. Structuring things on a blog adds psychological incentive to write more, and write better.

I believe that almost all skills are learnable, like music, and that we’re probably all writers, too.

2. Insight. “Writing is the art of discovering what you believe.” I typically spend a few days writing in my head before I ever approach a piece of paper or a keyboard, but it is rare that I finish a post without coming up with something novel to add while getting everything down. I never know quite what is going to happen, and the surprises are sometimes really worthwhile. Part of it is imagining the piece from the perspective of readers and listeners, and part of it is simply a function of staring and obsessing over an idea for hours. It’s a close and clear lens.

Of course, this happens in conversations with other people, too. But I have a complex relationship with “other people” and like to spend time exploring ideas myself.

3. Perspective. Somewhere in your mind, there’s a switch labelled “I write about things.” When I cajoled that into the On position, my relationship with thoughts changed. Faint traces of ideas waft by, and I chase them down and hold on to them for dear life. I carved out a cellar for them, stowing them away and taking stock periodically to see if it is their time yet. Or if new ideas have appeared that I can mix with the old. Sometimes they sit for years.

I compared it to hiking with a camera. I don’t think it detracts from the raw experience: enjoying nature with your eyes, ears, nose, and skin. But it adds another layer, and keeps me alert for unconventional ways of framing and seeing my surroundings.

4. Resonance. Less reliable than the other reasons, but every now and again, something I make resonates with someone. It’s incredible when it happens.

I’ll point you towards Andrew Kurjata’s fantastic piece on why he creates, Shut Up and Say Something. He nailed it.

I’ll just add that if you create something, and don’t share it, the chance of it resonating with someone else stays exactly zero.

5. Because the world keeps not ending. I started small with sharing, and the world didn't end. Then I opened the doors a bit wider, and the world didn't end.

So I’ll keep writing as long as catastrophes keep not happening when I do.

Originally posted at Tothedogsorwhoever.com.

Think, write, repeat

While you may be able to download an application that turns even your crappy cell phone pics into something hipsters will rave about on Facebook, or transform your worst karaoke showing into a pop song that would make Bieber proud, there isn't an app on earth that can make you a better critical thinker, or compensate for deficient writing skills.  In a world where (almost) everyone is a publisher, good writing skills and the ability to think critically are likely key differentiators.  

They are also mutually reinforcing

The more you think critically the better you are at expressing those thoughts in writing, the more you express those thoughts in writing, the deeper you can push your understanding.  

The thoughts I share here are ones I bat around in my head for weeks at a time.  What goes live on Friday mornings is always something that has been written, rewritten, completely torn apart, and slowly pieced back together.  I understand that the process, while often brutal and stressful, ultimately leads to a depth of understanding that I couldn't achieve if I simply shot from the hip and riffed on a particular subject.  In fact, over the years, I have collected a number of unfinished blog posts (over a hundred in fact) that I simply haven't been able to frame properly yet.

But this blog is not just a training ground for my skills, it is a living and growing portfolio that demonstrates those skills in action, and as such it's become far more valuable than my (traditional) resume alone (more on this below). 



It's a knowledge economy, stupid

The problem with a conventional resume is that it actually doesn't demonstrate any of the abilities listed on it (with the possible exception of effective communication). This week I came across a post called "Github is my resume" (via Ycombinator).  In it, a Python coder (named pyDanny), argues that, while traditional resumes are a passive inventory of tasks and responsibilities (and thus ripe for embellishment), an online repository of your work (in his case Github) is an active demonstration of those abilities. The comments on the article brought some nuance to the discussion, which eventually settled on the idea that a static resume is still a valuable tool, but what programmers really need (and what a service like Github can be) is a portfolio.

Given, I'm not a coder (you might not be one either) but the logic is the same (paraphrasing pyDanny): 


If you write every day or every week, over time your writing will get better; you'll also be able to demonstrate a consistent body of work, and your passion will be obvious. 

Where's your passion?

Where is your living portfolio? 

Isn't it time you started thinking, writing and repeating?



Originally published by Nick Charney at cpsrenewal.casubscribe/connect