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3 hours ago
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A colleague recently asked how I find time to blog about technical writing after hours. The answer is surprisingly simple: I prioritize writing above other things. I could have posted that exchange on social media and called it a day, but there’s more nuance to that simple reply. Let me elaborate, it might be useful.
I write because I need to write. I need to write because I need depth
My main goal with this blog is to vent. I care deeply about things, work being one of those, and I have strong opinions. Writing is my civilized way of letting off steam. If I take the thoughts out of my head onto a sheet of virtual paper, I can go back to normal and function like a good citizen. For me it’s like dragging tangled thoughts through a thresher: painful going in, oddly satisfying coming out.
I prioritize writing over other things. Sometimes I joke that I can write on my blog because I’ve no social life, perhaps to clumsily make the other person feel good about it (Oh okay, he’s a poor sad hermit, I can now continue binge watching HBO). There’s a bit of truth to it: I hyperfocus and obsess over writing in ways I don’t over most other things. It’s my strange addiction.
My belief that professional growth happens through self-imposed intellectual challenges is a factor. Writing and putting my posts out there for others to read is a way of challenging myself. Debates – of which we’ve too little in our field – energize me. Uncontroversial and shallow takes are boring. I aim for depth and drama. I like to shake trees. It’s my Nietzschean leaning.
Writing is a background process in my brain’s operating system
I don’t write that much, nor do I write often. Since I started this blog, I have published 1.5 posts every month and have been quite consistent at it. This rhythm suits me. I could post more often if my goal was to increase organic reach and monetize through ads, but it isn’t. No, that’s not my goal; I’m not a (sigh) fractional content creator.
New posts usually come out of things I’ve read on the Internet. I don’t keep a backlog nor maintain an editorial calendar (good riddance). I turn ideas into a pair of glasses through which I examine my day-to-day activities; ideas, in this sense, are assignments. Once I’ve reached a critical mass, I sit down and fire an ICBM (or bleed, as Hemingway put it).
My significant other understands that I sometimes need a couple of hours every now and then to write, which I take while everybody else at home is taking a nap after lunch. I try not to let writing disrupt my duties, though at times it does. Would it be simpler if I were alone? No: I write best when I feel in good and hibernating company.
I keep writing because it’s both immensely useful and gratifying
Writing is first and foremost a way of thinking. Putting my writing out in the open allows me to further refine my thoughts and move forward or change my stance on things. Wrestling abstract thoughts into sentences helps me understand why I feel the way I do about things. Writing is, in a way, the factory of my thoughts, the most powerful form of self-debriefing at my disposal.
As it happens, writing this blog has also helped me in letting other people know what I think about, say, FAQs or LLMs. I often have links at hand. At the same time, since there aren’t many folks writing about technical writing, my blog has built a small but loyal following, which allows me to reach more people and chat about stuff. It’s my way of socializing.
So, when I say that we should be blogging more about technical writing, what I really mean is: write about technical writing if that’s what you need. Don’t force yourself to write. Your thing might be different: it could be coding apps, growing flowers, painting, raising ducks, or playing video games. Don’t see it as unrelated: From those angles, you could bring something interesting to our craft.
If this made you pause, nod, or even roll your eyes—then good. It means we’re thinking together.
