3 ms·

Getting Too Good at the Wrong Thing

4 points by cdme 3y ago

turtleyacht 3y ago
It's supposedly worth the effort to invest in an analog zettelkasten, to focus on screenless writing, the output of which is to publish. The natural extension of sit-and-study with one's second brain is a long-form read. It's anathema to the application of the agile, iterative, rinse-and-repeat development cycle applied to books. We want to support the work of sustained, considered arguments, supported by heavy bibliography and a curated index. These tomes to sit on the shelf, to be read (and read again) in their season. For the work of a book is that thing which a program is not: accreted code runs itself, stays running, and passes its tests. A book dares to be erased in entries, reorganized, maybe even abandoned, based on its reasoning and research. The book requires its creation, whereas the program simply collects--or resists, as its creator is wont--certain features. Maybe we could consider the book as a materialized view: it's a render of some backend data, subject to change, but not in its core thesis (else it would be a new book). But change comes slowly, if at all: rewriting and such. If a book is simply a graph of nodes, expanding into an outline, discoverable, explorable, and cross-referenced--then we are approaching something of a data model or semantic form, something programmatic. But we lose the diction and verve of a specific voice. Or maybe a book is like the maintainer's dilemma: no one shall care but for its break; no one shall fund it, or read it, or anything except to package it alongside other bundles--with no question for utility, but otherwise just to have it, and what more is needed but authorship? (Well, bills and living.) Then it's silent labor, and marketing (what's that?) So if a writer desires to write, having no domain but one's own experience, then living is the core input: listening, learning, and experiencing. And the words come out as they will, and it shall not stop, except as the muse sees fit. Now we have social media and attention currency; we have busy lives and fires to fight; in solitude, to choose between paper scrawls or view counts. Maybe the thing to do is to keep a journal. Divorce the idea of consumption from creation. Join in some thread spanning civilizations, not just in the next emergent worry.

4 points by cdme 3y ago

It's supposedly worth the effort to invest in an analog zettelkasten, to focus on screenless writing, the output of which is to publish. The natural extension of sit-and-study with one's second brain is a long-form read. It's anathema to the application of the agile, iterative, rinse-and-repeat development cycle applied to books. We want to support the work of sustained, considered arguments, supported by heavy bibliography and a curated index. These tomes to sit on the shelf, to be read (and read again) in their season. For the work of a book is that thing which a program is not: accreted code runs itself, stays running, and passes its tests. A book dares to be erased in entries, reorganized, maybe even abandoned, based on its reasoning and research. The book requires its creation, whereas the program simply collects--or resists, as its creator is wont--certain features. Maybe we could consider the book as a materialized view: it's a render of some backend data, subject to change, but not in its core thesis (else it would be a new book). But change comes slowly, if at all: rewriting and such. If a book is simply a graph of nodes, expanding into an outline, discoverable, explorable, and cross-referenced--then we are approaching something of a data model or semantic form, something programmatic. But we lose the diction and verve of a specific voice. Or maybe a book is like the maintainer's dilemma: no one shall care but for its break; no one shall fund it, or read it, or anything except to package it alongside other bundles--with no question for utility, but otherwise just to have it, and what more is needed but authorship? (Well, bills and living.) Then it's silent labor, and marketing (what's that?) So if a writer desires to write, having no domain but one's own experience, then living is the core input: listening, learning, and experiencing. And the words come out as they will, and it shall not stop, except as the muse sees fit. Now we have social media and attention currency; we have busy lives and fires to fight; in solitude, to choose between paper scrawls or view counts. Maybe the thing to do is to keep a journal. Divorce the idea of consumption from creation. Join in some thread spanning civilizations, not just in the next emergent worry.