Change

Another Little Demon

Whenever a thing is done for the first time, it releases a little demon.
– Emily Dickinson (or possibly Dave Sim? I am having a really hard time sourcing this quote.)

The release of Good Reviews, limited as it is, marks the first time I’ve ever publicly published one of my programming side projects. Barring little utilities for my friends, family or coworkers, nothing I’ve written outside of work or school has ever seen the light of day.

Sometimes this is because I don’t finish, and other times it’s because it’s not useful, and other times it’s because I keep moving the goalposts of “finished” and “useful” and never get satisfied enough. Releasing something to the public is scary and embarrassing and has all the potential for shame that, say, dancing or wrestling does. More, maybe, because nerds on the internet are some of the most vicious animals known to man.

Also – like dancing or wrestling – it’s effectively impossible to get a significant piece of code 100% right on its first time out the door. Finding one or two significant issues, five or six minor ones, and fifteen areas for improvement is par for the course on a good release (where “release” means “first time someone other than you uses the code”).

That’s one of the ways coding is like writing. You have to do it alone, deep inside your own head, but you won’t really do anything good until that inner creation has collided with the outside world a dozen times, been dented and broken and reshaped into something that actually works outside its author’s brain.

Well, I’ve done that. Again. The eBook was the first time I released my writing for general public consumption (and people bought it! and liked it!). Now, Good Reviews is the first time I’ve released my code for the same (not counting all those times I’ve done it at work – it’s a permission thing. Unlike my work product, I’m the only one responsible for this beast).

It’s appropriate that these two things were so closely related. They were both arts I’ve practiced in private my whole life; they both took longer than I thought; the temptation to improve forever on both of them was very strong. In the grand scheme of Writing and Programming, neither is a huge triumph, but I’m very proud of both of them.

What’s most important is that this year – for the first time – I have been all the way down the path. From “maybe I should do this” to a blog post proudly announcing “this is done”. In jiu jitsu, in writing, and now in coding.

That alone would have been worth it, even if each project had turned out worthless. (They haven’t).

If you’ve never told the world at large “here is a thing I did – no one told me I could do it, but I did it anyway”, I suggest you try it. Just finish something, and tell us – hell, tell me – even if you have to take the garden path. Just knowing the destination exists is worth the first trip.

And once that little demon is out, who knows what he’ll do?

Trapped by Comfort (Again)

There is no time for ease and comfort. It is time to dare and endure.
– Winston Churchill

The last few months went by too quickly, with not enough to show for them. I was busy as hell, but I wasn’t making big leaps forward the way I always want to be. Progress was real, but slow and incremental. This is why. I was working on it during about 60% of my ‘free’ time.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I learned a ton on that project, I’m excited to have finished it, and I think it was worthwhile. I’ve already used it to connect to some cool people and get some great feedback on my book, and it’s given me a lot of ideas for other apps I’d like to create (that will be even easier with the experience I’ve gained here).

That’s all true, but it’s not what I’m going to talk about today. Today I want to focus on the downsides – how could I have done better over the last three months? How could I be farther along?

As ever, I think the answer has to do with fear.

I’m a full-time, salaried web developer, I have a four-year Computer Engineering degree, and I’ve been fucking around with computers since before puberty. I’m good at this stuff, and it’s because I’ve been doing it all the time, for a long time.

That’s the problem. This project was so completely within my wheelhouse that I forgot, sometimes, to be Agon – I slipped into my “average programmer” persona, who has a half dozen unfinished projects on his hard drive and six more that only exist in his head. He uses these projects to learn new skills, yes, and to relax in a productive way – but he also uses them to numb himself, to alleviate the frustration with his 9-5, to imagine a bigger salary and more exciting career somehow, someday. I used to be that guy, and he’s not entirely dead in my psyche.

In that sense, the programmer with his shelf of half-finished creations is a lot like the ‘author’ with his two hundred blog posts and no book. These little side projects offer practice, let us access the deep rewards associated with building something, and give us something to show our friends to prove we’re serious. That’s all well and good – but what they usually don’t do is free us from our salary jobs, manifest the art inside us, or catapult us to the next level in any of our ventures.

Blogs and side projects are critical tools, and they are very often part of the path to success. They’re just not enough on their own. The internet is an endless graveyard for stillborn dreams, each tomb marked by a brand new blog or GitHub page.

I shudder when I see that graveyard, because I know how easily I could have been buried there, and I know I’m not out of the woods yet. These past three months were a grim reminder – the comfort, stability, and familiarity of one strategy can make it hard to see its drawbacks. The garden path looks all too tempting when the shortcut is a goat trail along a cliff.

So before you commit, even mentally, to a long project, ask yourself:

  • Do I really need to write a web app, or should I be pursuing consulting today?
  • Will another blog post get me closer than another chapter of The Book, or another publisher query?
  • Am I picking the scariest possible option? If I’m not, am I god-damned sure that I’m not choosing based on fear?

That’s it. Tomorrow, the upside.

Productivity Is Not the Answer

Progress and motion are not synonymous.
Tim Fargo

What haven’t you done yet?

Here’s my (partial) list:

  1. Write a novel and a screenplay
  2. Get 100 views/day average on this blog
  3. Sell my house
  4. Sell some (I dunno, 10?) copies of my first ebook
  5. Get a fully remote/flex-time job
  6. Get a motorcycle license

Actually, scratch that. Those are immediate goals, but let’s aim bigger for this post:

  1. Write a bestselling novel and a summer blockbuster screenplay
  2. Get 10k views/day on this blog (or its successor)
  3. Own an apartment in Singapore, where I live when I’m not traveling
  4. Be able to spin out an ebook that’ll do $5k in sales at will
  5. Be financially independent, so that I can make my money however I like
  6. Ride my motorcycle across the United States
  7. Achieve black belt in Brazilian Jiu-jitsu and the equivalent in Muay Thai

I’m making progress, but progress is bullshit. I want to accomplish everything, faster, sooner, better so I can quit the things I hate and chase – with reckless abandon – the things I love. I want to escape mediocrity and routine and achieve greatness.

I welcome the challenge – I embrace the Obstacle – but I’m tired of these silly, petty lower-case obstacles.

So I’m just like most of you. We want to be Mike Tyson, Voltaire, Bill Gates or Cato the Younger (insert your female counterparts here (heh)) instead of Joe Blow – but our daily lives don’t look like that of someone people would call “the Great”, except maybe sarcastically.

We slack off, we sleep in, we stop short. We never seem to win the war – in fact, we have a hard time knowing where the battles are and what time we’re supposed to show up.

I don’t know the way from here to there yet – but I know one path that doesn’t go there, and it’s the one you’ve got bookmarked under “41 Amazing Productivity Tools”. It’s the one that suggests it’s probably worth pulling all your notes out of Evernote and into Google Drive, and from there into Wikia and from there into Workflowy. The one where you create a carefully organized tag system for every possible email, with behavioral rules around each. The one where you obsessively tweak your HabitRPG system or your blog feeds until you’re certain you’ve optimized everything.

These are dead ends, false leads.

The difference between myself and Voltaire has nothing to do with which writing app I use. He wrote Candide without Scrivener – without a computer at all, in fact. He dictated it to his secretary and edited it by hand. Notepad alone vastly outweighs every tool available to him throughout his entire life.

So why do we think finding the right writing tool will make us the right writers?

Iron Mike didn’t kick ass because he had a careful system for washing his workout clothes or tricks for making sure he goes to the gym every day. He won because he’d train 50-60 hours over six days a week, beginning four or five weeks before a fight, and because he had top-shelf coaches.

So why do we think the right running shoes will get us into Boston?

And finally, Cato isn’t remembered for his top 10 lifehacks, his SEO skills, or his perfect resume. He’s known for his upstanding character, his constant refusal to participate in the corruption around him, and his dedication to the Roman Republic.

So why do we think one more article about communication will make us leaders?

There is a place for incremental improvement, for little tricks, for optimization – but it’s not at the beginning.

If you’re like me, you’re not a published author. You’re not a famous blogger, industry leader, or renowned competitor. You’re average – still stuck in the fat part of the bell curve, trying to wiggle to the right. For us, a 1% improvement isn’t even worth talking about – unless it leads to 10, then 100, then 1000%.

There’s a path from here to there – maybe. From middle of the pack to outlier, from unknown to renown, from cage to freedom. But while there might be a path, there isn’t a shortcut. The longer we sit at the start looking for the shortest path, the less time we have to run.

Review: Neal Stephenson’s “The Diamond Age”

Lacking any moral code, they confuse inevitability with Right.
– Neal Stephenson, The Diamond Age

I don’t usually do novel reviews here, though I alternate between fiction and nonfiction in my reading. There are a couple of obvious reasons to change that: I write fiction, I hope to make money from it, and I have fiction-related goals on the blog.

The other reason might not be quite as obvious, and it ties so nicely with the particular book in question that I wish I could say I’d planned it.

In The Diamond Age (or, a Young Lady’s Illustrated Primer), Stephenson tells the story of a very young girl named Nell – a ‘thete’ (read: welfare-class. ‘thete’ refers to landless freemen in ancient Greece. Appropriate, but I digress). Nell is living a typical poor child’s life – an unreliable mother and her carousel of abusive boyfriends leave her to be looked after by her gangbanger older brother.

But before she can be completely subsumed by the destructive culture she was born into, Nell’s older brother steals the Young Lady’s Illustrated Primer – a ‘book’ (actually a nanotech supercomputer) designed to instill upper-class values in a young girl through interactive fairy tales.

The Primer was commissioned by an Equity Lord – one of the planet’s most elite aristocrats, a self-made man concerned about his granddaughter’s future. The Equity Lord believes that his success was not due to luck, innate intelligence, or even his education – he believes that he was successful because of his personality and his values. In short, it was what he believed and how he felt – not what he knew – that propelled him to the heights of greatness.

He wanted the same outcome for his daughter, and he didn’t trust her parents or the school system to bring her up to be the right kind of person to succeed and conquer. He designed the Primer as a sort of moral mentor, meant to guide the young girl’s development and mold her psychology into that of a champion.

Much of the book recounts Nell’s experiences with/in the Primer – a kind of video-game storybook that leads her through traditional-style fairytales, often with grim morals. The book maps Nell’s psychological state and adjusts the stories to match her current life (her four companions, for example, are based on her four stuffed animals).

Over the course of the story the Primer guides Nell out of her abusive home environment and into further (real-life) adventures beyond it.

The second half of the book veers into a dreamier, abstract kind of futurism that I didn’t find nearly as interesting, but Stephenson’s writing stays compelling throughout and there are dozens of moral lessons in the book.

So – like Nell herself learned who to be while reading about Faery Kings and Queens, we can learn a little about who to be while reading about Nell. And like the Primer revealed the character of its architect, we can learn something of Stephenson’s philosophy from The Diamond Age.

A handful of lessons:

It is upon moral qualities that a society is ultimately founded. All the prosperity and technological sophistication in the world is of no use without that foundation—we learned this in the late twentieth century, when it became unfashionable to teach these things.
– Neal Stephenson

The Primer’s architect correctly identified the root cause of all glory. It is on a foundation of moral qualities – virtue, courage, tenacity – that an individual, and thus a society, builds its house.

No number of college degrees, iPhone apps, tax reforms or subsidies can propel a person – or a nation – to greatness. It takes a higher virtue.

[like] many universities at the time, ISU insisted that its students study a broad range of subjects, including arts and humanities. Finkle-McGraw chose instead to read books, listen to music, and attend plays in his spare time.
– Neal Stephenson

Study is fine, but study and leisure are different things – and in all subjects, practice is often preferable to study.

Now, this was clearly unfair, and I protested that the birds were obviously trying to favor Pteranodon. This kind of argument might have worked with ants or even shrews; but the King of the Birds would hear none of it. For them, virtue consisted in being birdlike, and fairness didn’t enter into it.
– Neal Stephenson

Three lessons here:

  1. Reality doesn’t care about your idea of fairness. In this case, the Dinosaur (a T-rex, one of Nell’s fairytale companions) was being asked to cross a chasm of lava and retrieve a flower from a mountain. Apparently impossible for him, as he could not fly – but that was the challenge, and railing that it was impossible for him and easy for someone else got him nowhere.
  2. A King’s virtue is absolute. The King of the Birds valued grace and flight, and it didn’t matter to him that the T-rex was ‘unfairly’ unable to embody these virtues. When developing your morality, you don’t need to account for others.
  3. You don’t have to accept others’ opinions on your methods. The Dinosaur rerouted a river to ‘freeze’ the lava so he could cross on foot. The King of the Birds wasn’t pleased that the spirit of the challenge had been undermined, but he was forced to give Dinosaur his reward for completing the task.

The seed of this idea had been germinating in his mind for some months now but had not bloomed, for the same reason that none of Hackworth’s ideas had ever developed into companies. He lacked an ingredient somewhere, and as he now realized, that ingredient was subversiveness.
– Neal Stephenson

It’s not enough to be brilliant or even driven. You have to be willing to break the system, to proceed without permission (and perhaps against orders), if you’re going to be truly great.

If a well-written, brilliantly thought out sci-fi morality play sounds good to you, pick this one up.

And remember – who you are and what you believe do matter. They probably matter more than your degreee, your latest productivity hack, or your network. So if you want to change your life, start from the inside – and don’t ignore books like The Diamond Age. They may not teach you how to build your next website, but they might teach you why.

Bonus quotes:

A honeybee cruising for nectar is pretty despite its implicit threat, but the same behavior in a hornet three times larger makes one glance about for some handy swatting material.
– Neal Stephenson

But Mom broke up with Brad; she didn’t like craftsmen, she said, because they were too much like actual Victorians, always spouting all kinds of crap about how one thing was better than another thing, which eventually led, she explained, to the belief that some people were better than others.
– Neal Stephenson

Traps at the Beginning and at the End

It’s the job that’s never started as takes longest to finish.
– J.R.R. Tolkien

At the beginning of a new project – this year in January, for example – I often take way too long to get things moving. I pay close attention to every minor detail, and I let every potential problem drag me down a rabbit trail of distraction.

I’ve rewritten open source libraries for time formatting instead of finishing an incredibly simple app idea. I’ve designed my own tabletop RPGs instead of working on the campaign I was currently running. I’ve delayed starting in the gym for three weeks while “deciding” on the perfect routine, watching videos and buying a water bottle. I’ve missed applying to posted jobs because the font on my resume just wasn’t right yet.

This habit – of letting yourself delay the real start while you indulge in preparatory masturbation – is fatal to real progress.

When you’re new to something, in particular, you need to just go – get the minimum instruction or research necessary and then just dive in. A week spent preparing is usually six days wasted.

When I finally just begin, I get farther in a day than I did in all the prep time prior, be it a week or a month or a year.

This is the first trap I sometimes fall into with large projects – not really staring, but fooling around “preparing” to start until I force myself to make the first move (or until I can’t think of any more plausible excuses not to go).

Lifting and BJJ were like this for me – the solution is to commit to a time and place to start (soon!) that you can’t get out of. You’ll find the pressure forces you to complete the necessary prep and forces you to ignore the time wasting.

If I’d had some set idea of a finish line, don’t you think I would have crossed it years ago?
– Bill Gates

The second trap I fall into comes at the end. The thing is almost done – the bulk of the work is finished, if unpolished, and the finish line is well within sight – just around the corner, really.

Now, instead of being afraid to start, I find myself afraid to finish – mostly because, what if it’s not good enough? What if I missed something? What about the font, the file format, the bizarre edge case, the dusk jacket description? I should probably do another round of edits, read another guide, test another system, run one more query.

Polish and testing are, of course, helpful and necessary to a point – but they’re also a lot less scary than pressing “Publish” or “Push” or “Submit” or “Send”, and that makes them dangerous.

At the end of a big project – just as at the beginning, and at every step in the middle – the most important thing is to take the next step. A published ebook sells infinity times more copies than an unpublished one, even if the unpublished one is infinity times better quality.

Selling the house and changing careers were like this for me – it was easy to get ready, easy to make progress, hard to pull the trigger and let the thing sink or float. Excuses and busy work were everywhere and seemed a lot more fun than watching my hard work go to waste if the thing failed.

The solution here is the same, though – pick a date and find a way to force yourself to ship on that date. The necessity of finishing might have you cutting corners at the last minute to make up for procrastination, it might have you up all night, it might even make you feel like you failed when you could have succeeded.

But it’ll have you done, and ready to move onto the next thing. That’s not perfect, but it’s a lot better than nothing.

One More First

I was writing fiction, but not finishing fiction.
– Elizabeth Moon (author of The Speed of Dark)

The erotica ebook is done. As soon as the cover comes in (ordered a 24h stock-photo-based Fiverr gig), it’ll be published on Amazon and I’ll have the link up here.

Here are the things it isn’t:

  • perfect
  • well-marketed
  • carefully targeted to its audience
  • groundbreaking
  • unique
  • my best work
  • tested on various devices
  • formatted for all markets
  • etc, etc

Here are the things that it is:

  • done.

Which marks the first time I’ve taken a substantial piece of fiction (10k+ words) through the draft, revise, draft, revise, publish cycle.

Much like the first time I cold-approached a cute girl, did squats in the gym or competed at BJJ, this is more than an incremental bit of progress, lost in a sea of tiny changes. This is a first. Mark your calendars.

Check Yourself

“What we hope ever to do with ease, we must first learn to do with diligence.”
– Samuel Johnson

Lately the stuff I’ve been thinking about – the braindead activities, the lack of good reading time, the sleeping in – have all been problems of the recurring comic book kind.

Half the time, solving these problems is just a matter of remembering that they’re problems at all, and that they need to be solved. It’s not really a failure of will that makes me play hit the snooze button, or the Feedly button instead of the ebook one, or the Candy Crush button.

There’s no struggle there at all, because the habit has arisen and derailed me and the five minute opportunity has passed before I even recognized it.

It’s this way with swearing, too, or breaking other almost-totally-unconscious habits. Step one is dragging them into the light where you have a chance, at least, to change them.

As of today, I’m starting the old rubber band on the wrist trick – snap and switch wrists every time I kill time in a less-than-productive way. Anyone tried that? Thoughts?

Against Hope

Hope is a good breakfast, but it is a bad supper. –
Francis Bacon

“I’ll do better next time.”

No, let’s be honest, you probably won’t.

Over the past six months, one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is a very simple one – you change your environment, and your environment changes you back.

Okay, that’s really obvious. Desperate for posts, Agon?

No, not that desperate, bear with me.

You change your environment, and your environment changes you back – this is the way you change. You don’t change yourself, directly. You don’t reach into your brain and slide the toggle from “Procrastivity” to “Productinate”.

You can reach the toggle, but you have to reach it through the world around you – even if the world around you is just your own voice yelling at yourself in the bathroom mirror (not a recommended technique).

I’ll go back to the gym as my example, since that part of this year has gone so well. I didn’t decide to be a “dedicated person” and suddenly, going to the gym was very important to me. Instead, I used what willpower I had (never as much as I’d like) to change my environment – I paid a bunch of money, talked to the coach and my classmates, bragged about all the new moves I was learning, signed up for a tournament, tried to recruit all my friends, changed my work schedule to match the new habit.

In short – I made it so it was a lot easier to go to the gym every night than to not go.

You don’t change the course of your life by main force – it’s too heavy. Not unlike BJJ (God, where would I get my metaphors if I didn’t roll), you change it by cleverness and careful application of the strength you have. This lets you move a weight much heavier than your actual strength should allow.

But this is basically a cliche at this point, and if you’re far enough down the stack of self-development blogs that you’re reading this one, you’ve heard it two hundred times. That said – if you’re still reading this one, or writing it – this hasn’t stuck yet. This is a reminder.

You won’t do better next time unless something in your environment makes you (whether that’s what you eat, or how much you sleep, or which friend you talk to that morning, I don’t know and it doesn’t really matter). You won’t.

If you want to see progress, make a change outside your head. And next time you think “I’ve thought this through, so I’ll do better” – catch that thought, write this blog post yourself, and make an external change.

That little voice of hope is lying to you, and it’s keeping you from making things better.

When The Well Goes Dry

You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.
– Maya Angelou

I’ve been coming up dry on post topics lately, for a couple of reasons that were obvious as soon as I thought about it.

1. I’m in the middle of the roll.

I haven’t started or finished anything new, lately, so any updates I’d post would just be “Still working on X”. Hence the utterly uninspiring (but at least up to date, now) Progress page.

That problem has a solution –one that I’ve written about before. I need to take my own advice and finish something interesting, so I can write about the process.

2. I’m booked solid. That, combined with…

3. I’ve been choosing mind-numbing activities for my spare time.

During breaks at work, in line, in the bathroom – I’ve been browsing Imgur or playing Candy Crush instead of reading blogs. On car rides, I’ve been listening to music (about half the time) instead of podcasts.

Together, these things have reduced the flow of new ideas to a trickle. Without concrete new achievements to write about or new challenges to face, and without serious, insightful media to inspire me, my brain is just producing ideas a lot more slowly than it usually does. That’s led to the last couple problems:

4. Much of what I think about daily has been said before, and better, by other people.

“Productivity” and “lifestyle design” and “self-development” are some of the biggest chunks of the blogosphere. They say those who can’t do, teach – and apparently those who can do, also teach, so everyone’s teaching. You guys really don’t need another “Top Ten Ways To Be Creative” BuzzFeed listshitcle, and I’m not sure how much it develops me to write them.

Superficial reading leads to superficial writing.

5. Ideas get stale.

Try as it might, Evernote just can’t capture the way an idea feels when it first hits you. It’s got hooks – little paths that you can see branching everywhere. Some might play out, and some might not, and you can’t know the full map of an idea until you try them.

These hooks disappear, though, and the little blurb I jot down to remind me of the idea might not bring them back. Sometimes it does, and that’s great when it happens – but half the time I open my “Posts to Write” list and just delete half of it – they don’t inspire me anymore, and I can’t quite figure out why they ever did.

Don’t get me wrong, noting these ideas when you don’t have time to explore them is a hell of a lot better than nothing, and often it saves my ass. But not always, and I pay a tax of maybe 30% of my inspiration going to waste when I don’t act on it within, say, a week.

Busy as I am this summer, a week goes by real fast.

So. Five little problems, combining to spoil my crop of blog posts, slow my development as a writer and disappoint my readership (right? Right).

Here are five solutions:

1. Finish something. By next Sunday, I’ll have published the erotica story and posted about that process here.

2. Force time for inspiring “slacking”. In this case, fiction reading. I hope to get a few hours in this weekend.

3. Guard my free time. Nobody’s “productive” all the time, but there’s a huge difference between mindless entertainment and the kind that plants thought-seeds. I got the ebook of The Obstacle is the Way, and I’ll be reading that in free moments on my phone.

4. Go Deeper. Focus beyond the superficial – think past the cliches, and I’ll be able to write past them, too.

5. Write Sooner. Review my “Blog about this” folder every day or two so the good ideas stay fresh and ripen and the bad ones fall off. This will also keep my unconscious churning on relevant topics.