Thoughts on Why I Write

I’ve fallen considerably short of my Project 52 Goal. But, what I have done is discovered a lot about the Why behind my writing.

The most illuminating discovery is that I write as a creative last resort. If I find a creative outlet elsewhere, my need to write diminishes rapidly. There is a bit of irony in that writing awakens other creative desires and thereby destroys my own need of it. But there is a lot of comfort that at the root of everything I want to create dwells the word.

I enjoy writing. I wasn’t sure I would when I started the project but digging up stories from inside turns out to be a pleasurable experience. As such, I will continue the initial project but shed the time constraints I originally placed on it.

The biggest obstacle to my writing is also, sadly, writing. I write about 1000 words a day as part of my work. Sometimes less, most times more. Of course, this isn’t polished prose or a finely (or even poorly) crafted story. They are hard fought words. They are the words that survive.

When I write an email, a company blog post, a forum response, or anything in an official capacity I typically try to be as brief as possible. Brevity is my watch word. I don’t claim I succeed, its just my goal. As such, I will often rewrite an important email six or seven times to see how much I can eliminate in an effort to clarify my intent. I would say I do this for about 1 in 10 emails. Email is just an example. This is true of just about everything I write professionally.

This is taxing.

I can see in my stories that this style and skill emerges. I don’t have enough experience in creative writing to know whether its good or bad, for me it just is. I’m at peace with it. I just need to internalize and except that this is a taxing way to write.

I have friends and I’ve read in many an essay where people describe the act of writing as therapeutic. This is not true for me. I have no desire to expose my internal monologue in written form. I’m not referring to blogging, but to writing in general. I would much rather work things out as a sketch, in prayer, or in talking to a trusted friend. Most preferable is finding quiet time to open my heart to my wife, who takes such excellent care of me.

In order to write effectively, both on this blog and at work, I need to have already taken care of my demons as it were. The pen does nothing for them.

Writing does turn out to be an effective way to solve a problem. When I’ve clarified an issue internally, writing provides a great platform for exploring solutions. In this case, analog writing awakens a part of my brain that the keyboard does not. This is so true for me that I purchased a Bertha Whiteyboard for my office along with an assortment of colored pens.

My work week typically starts by covering a good 4 or 5 feet of physical wall space with notes, brainstorms, and other important squiggles. I’ve tried this process digitally, with some success, but good ol’ analog is still king for that kind of written problem solving. I analyze Bertha, and put all her important bits into Taskpaper or Omnifocus (TP for immediate, but less complicated projects, OF for longer term projects that also require other digital assets).

I get the greatest joy from writing when it is personal and met to be shared with a small group I know well or a specific individual. The writing I am most pleased with is the writing I do for my wife. I am ashamed to say this does not happen very often. My public writing would improve tenfold if I could figure out how to inject the joy I get from private correspondence into public form.

Part of the issue is fear. I fear that I will be misunderstood or worse yet, misinterpreted. I have a fear that people will come to conclusions about EllisLab, about me personally, and generally succumb to the temptation of an easy conclusion.

Intellectually I know this fear is unfounded. Its been my experience at EllisLab, even before I was an employee, that the web community at large does not do this. Comments on YouTube, Gizmodo, and other such sites may lead one to believe otherwise, but those are the outliers, not the norm. If there is one thing about my job that never ceases to amaze me, it is the authenticity that can be found in online communication. I do not think it rare. It is my experience that it is instead well hidden. It is also uncelebrated, which I find troubling.

Also, I have no love for editing. Bless all of you who do.

If you made it this far, you may thank Kenny Meyers, who posed a question to me via email that prompted the SFD of this post.