I originally wrote this essay on an earlier version of jensimmons.com. I wanted to redo the website, but I also wanted to start writing before I’d have time to build a new site. Turns out, I didn’t. This was the last post I made on the earlier site. This new site is built on a fresh new database, and I wiped out the old database. But I thought I’d move this one essay over.
I have so many blog posts I want to write. I’ve been waiting forever to get started. I’ve been waiting for the time to be right. To be ready. Really ready. To be done with this other project, first. Oh and that other thing. And these other 57 million things.
Plus my website looks horrible. The layout is incredibly boring. How can I travel the country, inspiring people to change up their boring layouts, while my layout is the most boring of all? I better to not post anything, ever, and not have anyone go to my website and see how bad it is. And worse, never mind how it looks — the content is a mess! What in the world is going on on these pages? The home page? The speaking page? The site is full of weird rambly lists that sort of have good content, but mostly are repetitive and weird. Can’t Jen do way better than that? I thought she was a great web designer. I aspired to be like her. Clearly, I was wrong. She sucks. This is useless.
So my plan is wait until I totally redo my website before I post anything. That’s a great plan. Such a good plan, it’s been my plan for the last two years. No, five years. No, longer. Which is why I’m not publishing anything.
But isn’t it weird that I’m starting now? Why now? Why not 12 years ago? Ten to fifteen years ago is when all the cool kids started blogging. I missed the boat. I should have started 5 years ago. I could have written about responsive web design when it was new. Or HTML5, when people were looking for information. I could have written so many things. I missed them all. So why start now? Isn’t that awkward and stupid and weird? Just out of the blue? In August 2015? Just because I say so? Haven’t I said all this before?
Well. Plus. I mean. I secretly think I have to potential to be a great writer with a lot to say. To have a voice. To have an audience. To accomplish something. But if I actually start to attempt to make such a possibility real, and then it turns out none of this is true — and I suck, my ideas are flimsy, and no one cares or worse you hate me for it and harass me — then what? Then what will my Big Grand Scheme of How Awesome My Future Life Will Be Just As Soon As I Get It Together? What will I have left to imagine about my fabulous future? I’d rather have a plan for my amazing future then have a memory of a train wreck in my past.
Yeah, it’s time for that era to be over. Seems like I’ve… well, I finally have gotten it together to an extent. Not in a way that was pre-planned, but I have removed one obstacle after another until there’s not much left. There is really no reason to not be writing. In fact, now I’ve done gone setup my life so I have to write. It’s my job to blog.
“Write like no one is reading.”
You aren’t reading this anyway, are you?
“Write like no one is reading.”
This is something Zeldman is saying on stage at An Event Apart this year. Well, I’m going to take the advice.
I have a lot to say. A lot. It’s busting out of me. And I’m ready to let it.
And you aren’t going to read it anyway, right?