Although I enjoy blogging, it’s almost always an activity I put off. “I’d love to write that post,” I tell myself, “but I need a whole day for that.” One of the many epiphanies from my recent series of Tiny Experiments is that I can write much faster, especially when I’ve made a public commitment to do so. I don’t suppose anyone would’ve chased me if I’d missed a day, but the very threat of shaming was enough. Admittedly, the posts from that week are sketchy, but some will be reincarnated into future book chapters.
Another epiphany was that I’m much more productive when part of a writing community. I’ve been using Focusmate since 2020, which was an absolute godsend for my first three books. That 1-2-1 accountability ensured I appeared at my desk every morning. But now I need to be part of something bigger. In January, I joined the London Writers’ Salon, who offer daily writing sessions, workshops, and expert interviews. By creating a schedule around 1-hour and one-day group writing sessions, I managed to complete both my blogging challenge and the second draft of my current book. I find it far too distracting to write in the same physical space as someone else, but benefit enormously from the virtual presence of other writers. Most importantly, I also have access to my own chair, loo, and teabags.
My Tiny Experiments also showed me the benefits of capturing my thoughts — or, “taking fieldnotes” to make it sound more scientific. This is something I’ve done since the first lockdown, but it had never occurred to me that they’d contain anything useful. I was inspired to resurrect my old journal that I’d maintained in Roam. Claude helpfully created a script so I could convert the entries into the correct format for my current favourite notetaking tool, Obsidian. It turns out I’d been experimenting on myself for five years. There’s lots of useful data here, not all of it edifying. Part of my entry for 1st January 2020 exemplifies the folly of thinking we can predict the future:
“There’s so much possibility this year. I have a greater sense of direction now and I’lll be able to achieve so much.”
Ha! Still, there are also some more sensible utterances, along with useful reminders of things I’ve tried that don’t work. I’m prone to thinking, “This is a great idea!” then finding a note from my previous self to explain exactly why it’s a terrible idea, or how much work is really involved. I suspect it would be helpful to analyse this data with Claude.ai, but I can’t face that degree of scrutiny yet. For now, I’m going randomly fish around for useful morsels.
Bohemian Catsody
I shall also keep going with Tiny Experiments. The idea of breaking things down and making it easier for myself was quite the revelation. This week I’ve successfully adopted that approach to learning Bohemian Rhapsody on the piano and getting back to the gym for the first time in almost two years. It’s fair to say that one of those activities was much more enjoyable than the other. Rather than being my own worst critic, I’m giving myself permission to start small and take it one tiny step at a time. I’m also finding joy in the process itself, rather than getting obsessed with reaching my goal. But reserve the right to perform a celebratory jig when I master all the fiddly bits in Bohemian Rhapsody.
The image is from this excellent YouTube video by Shirley Șerban. As fellow catlover Freddie Mercury once said, “I don’t care what you do with my music after I’m gone, just don’t make it boring.”