Since I’ve been interviewing other builders for the niche design zine, I've noticed a few recurring patterns. One is “building as gardening” which seems like a healthier way to build software in our age.

This is how Cab of Are.na described to me this approach:

You can be like “we’ve got to plant these here!” or “this is not working, let’s take it out!”.

But you can also choose the other way which is more like “oh wow, this thing is growing, that's really cool” or “let's see what else we can put here”.

It's a different kind of perspective.

And this, unrelatedly or not, how Herman of Bear Blog put it:

I’m trying to build a similar product with Bear Blog. Something niche but valuable. Something I can spend time on because I want to.

Being able to talk to, and interact with the people using my tools is fulfilling. Spending time meticulously improving subtle aspects of the product is enjoyable.

My product is my garden

I’m no poetic person, so I admit this metaphor was a bit hard to digest at first. However, after pondering on this perspective for a while, I suddenly could make sense out of it.

For the longest time, I’ve seen people building software like in a greenhouse mode: carefully controlling and forcing conditions to make something grow. That often means building more “necessary” features, paying people to participate in “research” surveys, committing early to investors, or rushing to catch the “right moment” in the market.

The common thread of this build-fast-break-things-pivot-repeat culture is the sense of urgency. There’s a collective pressure to grow something faster than it naturally would. Instead of letting things grow more organically, we’re forced to grow them more artificially. Then everything feels urgent.

But that's just one way to view this world.

Then there's the gardening approach, which is a different process; a different mindset. Walking this path isn’t about the classic solving problems mantra through countless plans, strategies, and checklists to mark. Nor is it about taking the hammer and knocking a few components and forcing them to fit together.

Gardening is rather about tending something slowly until it (or not) reaches any height, while giving it the necessary time to mature and evolve. It’s not about forcing a solution, but rather about allowing growth to happen more organically.

Building software is much the same. It’s not a science-backed formula—it’s messy, unpredictable, and resistant to being rushed. There are countless unknowns along the way, and just as many ways for something to take shape.

On a personal level

I’ve been experiencing this gardening mindset with these words—my writings.

It didn’t take me long after starting this blog to realize there’s no way I’d keep up at a weekly publishing pace. Some writers find the “writing on a deadline” with more ease, but I just can’t force an idea to grow and mature on a schedule.

I rather find writing to be more of a musing process: lingering with an idea for a while, writing a few sentences here, thinking about a concept there, and sharing it with the void—until some emerging patterns reveal themselves.

In other recent news, there’s URList—a new project I’m working on. (tl;dr: it’s a tool for making lists by curating links of bookmarks, research, etc.)

The background story is that we planted the seeds and made the soil almost a year ago, but never harvested it. We ditched it even though it was nearly ready to be launched: life happened, and I got burnt out of making software, and so it sat in the dark for months, waiting to be revived.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, we took some time to fix all the small remains and released it to the world. What appeared has gotten me in a surprise. The attention this little thing got wasn’t expected at all. I’ve received some really nice DMs, emails, and even got mentioned in newsletters and blogs like The Verge Installer, Hulry, and Webcurios.

This might sound like a decent story, but it’s very much different than our history of building products. This time we’re not running to raise money, or going into the endless loop of meeting people and creating presentations with some grand plans. We just hope to tend it over time and grow it more naturally for whatever direction it may go. We’re also not trying to over-push it or set strict goals. The only thing that matters is that people actually use it.

Like writing this blog, I need to recognize there's only so much I can do. I can’t speed up the process—it will take the time it needs.

One small big caveat

I want to publish more so this blog would seemingly grow faster, which means monetization would be more feasible, but at the same time, I acknowledge it can’t be hastened as much as I wish.

And I also want URList to generate some income in the very near future.

This entire financial aspect is a constant frustration to me. I noticed my instincts have been to monetize everything I do, and I guess many would agree. It’s just natural to measure progress and reward effort with money.

I’ve been thinking forever about building a product from a strict business perspective: it needs to generate money, or at the very least, earn some public recognition.

Starting without big goals or a plan to make money might not sound like great business advice. But as they say, it takes time to build anything meaningful.

Neither Are.na nor Bear Blog started with big funding. Both have taken long journeys to reach where they are today. The former has been in the making for more than 13 years, while the latter has been for more than 5 years.

I think the hard thing about software nowadays is that the end goal tends to be the financial upside—an exit or an IPO.

But we’re actually just interested in working on our product. That’s our interest and it's the only thing that can sustain you over a long period of time.

Cab, the niche design zine

I’m not sure about my patience, but I keep growing my gardens—slowly but gradually.