I’m not famous or successful, so why should you care what I think? Well, I have some observations about the dynamics of writing on the internet that I think my (even more non-famous and non-successful) self would have benefited from when I started.
Thanks, this changed my mind on some things. When you described getting non sequitur responses from people who didn't read the article and wrote that you regarded it as your failure, I thought "nooo, this will drive you insane, don't write for the most insane/comprehension-impaired/uncharitable people on the internet". But if a gentler tone fixes it, well, then I was mistaken, and that's great.
I've been averse to the awfulness of internet comments, which has led me to mostly avoid writing in public. But I like your reframe, where if there's a negative reaction, then I can consider it might be pointing out a problem, even if it's not well-articulated. That seems productive.
I recently arranged user testing for some software I worked on. It was very useful and I was looking forward to doing more of it, so I'm delighted by this realization that you can do user testing for writing. (What other kinds of user testing have I not thought of? User testing for music? for events? for talks? for interior design?)
Fuck best, yeah. Read Pirsig's LILA to have that over with.
Quality is a here and now thing - you versus the night sky, the taste of the sludge you shovel into your mouth, the sound of the car door as it closes, the firmness of lips etc.
No, I do not want what I want. I want what I don't want. If I want it - apart from things keeping me physically alive - I already have it. In my mind. I want something else. Something outside of my expectation, something that makes me work for it, something that I can never have again and therefore cannot use to set a future standard. Ideally. I know I am not alone in this, and also that many will disagree. But I don't care. Stepping away from expectation is like oxygen into a crowded room.
Writing was something that I pondered for decades, then I actually started about a decade ago. It's definitely not led to fame and fortune...and now I wonder why it's something that I want to do at all. It's an eternal torment sprinkled with occasional joy. I don't know what I'm doing or precisely why. It's my weird dance in the corner. Sometimes I scream.
Anyway, you captured a lot of my feels on the subject. Thanks.
This post makes me more optimistic that I can positively contribute to the comments sections of blogs/substacks/etc. (That's the closest I come to writing on the internet, haha.) Sometimes I'll start to write something that a post made me think of, or elaborate on a minor point in the post, and then think, "Oh, this isn't relevant enough, even though it's within my area of expertise/a particular interest of mine/relevant to my hobbies/etc." And then I'll delete it. But maybe that sort of comment is worthwhile, and perhaps I should try lowering my threshold for whether a comment is insightful/relevant enough.
This was amazing, you’re the best!
Thanks, this changed my mind on some things. When you described getting non sequitur responses from people who didn't read the article and wrote that you regarded it as your failure, I thought "nooo, this will drive you insane, don't write for the most insane/comprehension-impaired/uncharitable people on the internet". But if a gentler tone fixes it, well, then I was mistaken, and that's great.
I've been averse to the awfulness of internet comments, which has led me to mostly avoid writing in public. But I like your reframe, where if there's a negative reaction, then I can consider it might be pointing out a problem, even if it's not well-articulated. That seems productive.
I recently arranged user testing for some software I worked on. It was very useful and I was looking forward to doing more of it, so I'm delighted by this realization that you can do user testing for writing. (What other kinds of user testing have I not thought of? User testing for music? for events? for talks? for interior design?)
Fuck best, yeah. Read Pirsig's LILA to have that over with.
Quality is a here and now thing - you versus the night sky, the taste of the sludge you shovel into your mouth, the sound of the car door as it closes, the firmness of lips etc.
No, I do not want what I want. I want what I don't want. If I want it - apart from things keeping me physically alive - I already have it. In my mind. I want something else. Something outside of my expectation, something that makes me work for it, something that I can never have again and therefore cannot use to set a future standard. Ideally. I know I am not alone in this, and also that many will disagree. But I don't care. Stepping away from expectation is like oxygen into a crowded room.
Writing was something that I pondered for decades, then I actually started about a decade ago. It's definitely not led to fame and fortune...and now I wonder why it's something that I want to do at all. It's an eternal torment sprinkled with occasional joy. I don't know what I'm doing or precisely why. It's my weird dance in the corner. Sometimes I scream.
Anyway, you captured a lot of my feels on the subject. Thanks.
This post makes me more optimistic that I can positively contribute to the comments sections of blogs/substacks/etc. (That's the closest I come to writing on the internet, haha.) Sometimes I'll start to write something that a post made me think of, or elaborate on a minor point in the post, and then think, "Oh, this isn't relevant enough, even though it's within my area of expertise/a particular interest of mine/relevant to my hobbies/etc." And then I'll delete it. But maybe that sort of comment is worthwhile, and perhaps I should try lowering my threshold for whether a comment is insightful/relevant enough.