I wrote a blog post every day for a month, and all I got was this lousy collection of incoherent ramblings
It's done. I made it to the end. A Finnish proverb fits the situation perfectly: > Paska reissu mutta tulipahan tehtyä Which translates to something like "A crappy journey but in any case it's over now". I forced myself to do this. It was not fun. I rarely enjoyed writing. Every day I kept looking at the word counter, hoping that it would be over already. Sometimes the text was not done when I reached 500 words, which meant I had to write more. I did not manage to keep any buffer. Each text was written on the day when it needed to be ready, except for this one which I wrote five days in advance because why not. Sometimes I had fragments or notes ready, but most of the time not even that. Once or twice I wrote two posts back to back around midnight, but most of the time I finished a text and then did something else for the rest of the day. Doing it again tomorrow was bad enough. I managed to not neglect my work too badly. Sure, I skipped a day or two because I had to write instead, but it's not like I don't do that to play videogames every now and then, something I completely avoided this month. The thing I did neglect was the quality of text I produced. One could imagine that if the top priority for every day is producing a blog post, you could actually put some effort into it. I managed to put in a lot of hours, but I'm not happy about the level of effort spent. Hard to distinguish between quality and effort though, but most of the time I was tired and just wanted it to be over and picked the first topic that I could manage to find 500 words in. I did barely any editing except for spellcheck with ChatGPT. I didn't even read most of the texts myself. Scott Alexander's quote from the Inkhaven site was something that motivated me to do this in the first place: > "Whenever I see a new person who blogs every day, it's very rare that that never goes anywhere or they don't get good. That's like my best leading indicator for
Don't be sorry. While I didn't like it, it was worth it; no question about that. In the intro post on the 1st, I wrote:
That was achieved. I ought to feel proud of myself, but right now I just feel numb.
My motivation was in a way a mix of all four categories, the division between them quite unclear. I don't think it was so much about writing, though, and more about expressing ideas. I want to be the kind of person who is known for having the kind of ideas I do have. And on... (read more)