untitled poem about web development

I’ve just posted this to the Modern Evil Podcast, so you can listen to me read it, but I think it might work better on the page than read aloud. I just wrote it last night, so it isn’t much edited, polished, and isn’t titled, but as I mentioned before, I’m feeling pressure about falling short of my podcasting … so, here’s a new poem:

I’ve taken on a job
I am both
     loathe to do &
     wish were already done,
a job I am more than capable of
lowering myself
     and my standards
     and my
            productivity on
         my own work
to accomplish.
To do what I’ve been avoiding
   Working for someone else
   Building a generic
              corporate
              clone of a site
   Learning all that e-commerce
                     bullshit
   Sitting through meeting
             after meeting
             after meeting about it
   Waiting for groupthink
All in the midst of my own crippling
depression.
All instead of anything I’m interested in.
 (If I were to give the opposite of
  an Ignite Presentation
   (Talk about your passion!)
  I might talk for five minutes about
  modern web development.)
Troubleshooting the irrational behaviour of someone else’s CSS
/* Professionally-developed CSS */
frustrates.
I take long breaks.
I’m confident that with 8 good hours
I could show more results than their
last year’s work.
But there are so few
                     good hours
right now I’ll be lucky
to get 8 good hours all week.

I’ve taken on a job.
I wish someone else would.

 
—Teel McClanahan III

Success vs. Business

Sometimes I look at the things I’m avoiding, like using any of the increasingly-large offers for free AdWords advertising I keep receiving, and wonder whether I’m afraid of success. Literally, I do not advertise my books or art through any traditional means. I don’t think it’s because I’m afraid of success. I think it may be because I’m afraid of business.

I don’t like the parts of running a small business that are the business side of things. Accounting/bookkeeping, paperwork, taxes, marketing, even some aspects of customer service. All of which are things which increase in time investment & complexity, the more business I do. With the books side of the business, the side most likely to be able to create working advertising for, the amount of extra work that needs to be done for each book sold seems disproportionate with the amount of income earned, especially in relation to the same ratio re: art sales. But how do you sell my original artwork via a 2-line text ad? What search keywords are going to be coming from people who will like my art and will click on an ad? Books are somewhat easier, though I doubt the word “zombie” comes cheaply…

If I were selling enough paper books directly (I earn 2x to 6x more per book when I sell directly, rather than wholesale, so hitting any $ target is less copies/marketing/et cetera that way) to say with any seriousness that I was making as much or more than I could earn via a traditional publishing company & contract, the time and effort it would take to physically process & ship the orders would nearly be a full time job in itself, leaving little energy left for creation of new works. That is a scary thought. That is what I’m somewhat afraid of: that I’ll be doing so much business that I won’t have time to create.

So, yes, perhaps I’m doing this writing thing “all wrong” and I ought to have gone the “normal” route where I let a publisher take most of the revenue in exchange for doing all the business-side stuff I don’t like, giving up the ability to do the editorial, design, layout, cover design, and web site design aspects of the job that I do like along with them. Except that doesn’t really end up paying much better than what I’m doing now, for most authors, since they’re putting their own money into the publicity efforts I’ve mostly been avoiding… Out of the advances they’ll be lucky to ever earn out. Maybe.

Success, though… For me, it’s more about being able to create. To create what I want to create, when I want to create it. I semi-recently had a conversation with my wife about it, where she (effectively the sole income-earner in our household) questioned the very idea that I ought to be trying to earn any sort of living from my creations. Like, “where did you get that idea?” And I think she was right, and well in tune to what I actually believe & want than my own behaviors and projected beliefs represented.

We’re closer now to a financial situation where we don’t have to worry every month about how we’re going to afford groceries than we were last year, and I’m decreasingly thinking about how to turn my creations into a regular income. I have faith in my work. I believe in the act of creation.

I don’t believe in the value of money, business, the market, or marketing.

And yes, this post is a messy ramble. I wrote it on my iPhone while my iMac was occupied with actual work.

Podcasting pressures

So, I’ve recently passed my 150th episode of the Modern Evil Podcast, having posted 2 episodes a week almost entirely without fail (there was a week or two where the episodes were a few days late, but no actual gaps in content) since I started it. I’ve just put up the penultimate chapter of Dragons’ Truth, and the final chapter will go up on Friday. ((Yes, Dragons’ Truth was the first of my books I made available, through Podiobooks, almost two years ago – but since I didn’t start the Modern Evil Podcast until  several months later, it hadn’t yet been in the Modern Evil Podcast feed.)) Then, starting a week from today, I’ll be podcasting the short story ‘Second Thoughts’.  It comes from a short story collection I haven’t yet released (I feel I need at least one more story before I can put it out, possibly several more.  They’re long-ish stories, but right now I only have 4 of them, and it comes together as about 150 pages so far.) but this story is one I’ve made available as a limited edition chapbook.  I should put those online for sale…

Anyway, ‘Second Thoughts’ will run for 3 episodes. I’ve got it recorded but not yet edited. Then I had planned on alternating between episodes of the Lost and Not Found – Director’s Cut (on Fridays) and new poetry (on Tuesdays)… and when I drew up that schedule a couple of months ago, I’d expected to have been able to write the 5 new poems such a schedule calls for… but I haven’t written any new poetry.  I could grab 5+ more poems from my 3 existing collections. I could cut the podcast back to once a week. I could *quick* write some poetry in the next 2 weeks. I haven’t yet decided.

Regardless of what I do, after I finish podcasting ‘Second Thoughts’ and the Lost and Not Found – Director’s Cut, I’m out. If I only do 1 episode of LaNF-DC per week, I’ll run out of content April 9th. Including the presumed mid-week poetry episodes, that’ll be episode 167. I don’t have anything ready for episode 168. Yet.

Theoretically I could podcast the remaining stories from More Lost Memories… though I have been reluctant to do so. I could podcast all the remaining poetry from both volumes of Worth 1k… I could edit and polish the other stories from my unfinished collection and podcast them. I could … write a new book. I could let my podcast go on ‘hiatus’ pending new content. I don’t know.

I should be able to write a new book between now and then, but I have a lot of other things going on. A major factor of which is that the book I’m currently researching for … I expect not to be one of the quick ones. I expect to spend at least the next month researching for it, actually (though I suppose if I cut back on crochet work, I could get through my reading faster), before I write word one. I expect it to come out to be one of my longest novels yet, if I want to do a good and thorough job with it. I suppose I could do what some other authors have done before, which is to podcast the unfinished, unedited work as-I-write-it. Or I could write some other book in between researching for it, and podcast that.  I don’t know.

What I don’t want to do is podfade. To stop podcasting. I really would prefer not to go on hiatus. I don’t want to lose my momentum. I also don’t want the quality to drop, or the nature of the feed to change – it’s a podcast of my writing. It isn’t some guy jabbering, it isn’t an interview show, it isn’t topical or political or humorous or informative – it’s a podcast of all the literature I write. Twice a week, every week. I’d like that to continue.

Working with other people

The people who do it insist that it’s better. Are shocked that I don’t. In fact, usually don’t know the extent to which I do everything myself. Over and over and over they ask “Who does your…” this, or “Where do you get your…” that? The answer being “I do it myself,” 9 times out of ten. Maybe more.

They tell me that if I’d just let other people do B, C, D, E, et cetera, then I’d be able to focus on A. Depending on who I’m talking to, and what they think should be my focus, feel free to shuffle those random placeholder letters. Often without first-hand knowledge of my work, they assume that the quality of B, C, D, E, et cetera are insufficient – in fact, they also often assume that whatever A they’ve picked as my focus is also not up to par, on account of my spending so much time & effort on the rest of the alphabet.

Alas, I have an aversion to working with other people, and I never bought into the idea that any one human could only do one thing well.

So I spend most of my time alone. And I do most everything on my own. When I farm out part of my work to another entity, I try to farm it out to robots and other automated systems; when I put together a new book, it goes from a set of digital files to a book both in my hands and for sale anywhere without my having to communicate directly with even one other human. Even that, I’ve been considering doing myself. A few months ago I was looking into acquiring a small offset printer (& looking into binding solutions) so that I could print and bind my own books. It’s still something I’m considering. I like doing things myself. (Not to an extreme, such as making my own paper, weaving & stretching my own canvas, or creating my own pigments, but most of the way there.)

I write my books. I edit my books. I create the layouts. I design the covers. I write the copy and design the web sites. I record and edit the audiobooks. I compose the music for the podcasts. I sell most of the books by hand, standing in the street. When orders come through my web site, I pack and ship the books; I hand-address the envelopes. I paint my paintings. I photograph them. I put them online. I sell most of them by hand, often standing in the street. I am the creator. I do all the creating, then I personally put my creations into the hands of the readers and art lovers who want them.

In the few areas where my control ends and a human’s control begins, I have found that rather than getting excellence I get delays, complications, mistakes, and disappointment. I have come to accept that, for example, Podiobooks.com is not fully automated, so that whether my episodes go up on time is based on what’s happening in a particular human being’s life – a particular human being with no personal stake in their timing. So I stopped caring whether they went up on time there, and started my own podcast/site where I have full control over when episodes are posted. I have to work with people in order to participate in the First Friday Art Walk, where a significant portion of my sales take place each month. After the first few months doing it, I came to accept that things would never go as planned and to simply expect  and accept that some new problem will crop up every single month. The problems are always, always because of human error, and usually because of people with “no skin in the game” being the ones making the plans and decisions. Oh, and although I don’t usually talk to them, there are humans involved in the process of getting a book set up at my printer – so I’ve come to understand that it’s unreasonable to expect the book to be ready to print or available for sale on time, or even within the time periods contractually promised me.

I heard or read something recently that I felt clarified a point about goals I wasn’t well able to express in my long post about it. The idea was that anything you hoped to achieve, if it required someone other than yourself to do even as little as say yes, or say no, wasn’t a goal, but a dream. Things you could potentially achieve without relying on someone else are goals. But you can’t count on other people, you can’t force other people, you can’t know what other people are going to do before they do it. So things you hope to achieve that rely on someone else doing something particular, those are just dreams. Those are, at least partially, not achievable by you. Part of the point of making such a distinction is to set personal expectations appropriately. To recognize that sometimes other people don’t come through. Sometimes they do. People achieve their dreams every day. But not always. (I would say, not often.)

As easily as I can set (and achieve) the goal of writing another book, of doing everything to go from an idea in my head to a digital/physical product I can share with other readers, the getting someone to buy and/or read that book is just a dream. In the same way, every part of my work I hand off to another person to accomplish goes from being a goal I can achieve to something I have to hope & dream another person (or company, or group of people) will do their part to help me achieve. My time tables, my quality expectations, my creative vision, they go out the window and are replaced by those of the other people involved. (And the more I insist on any one of those aspects getting closer to what I want, the farther the other two get.)

The unreliability and inconsistency of other people isn’t the only (or even the primary) reason I don’t like other people, but it has a lot to do with why I don’t like working with other people. I’m anti-social, misanthropic, and -some would say- nihilistic. I don’t loathe everyone, and I’m aware that many people do excellent work – I’m also aware that it tends to be when they are working on something they care about and believe in, rather than “for money” or “for other people,” that people tend to do their best work. So… theoretically all I need to do, if I wanted to work with other people (aside from somehow overcoming my being generally anti-social), is to somehow find people who are passionate about and care about my creations, as much as or more than I do. Let me know if you see any.

Thoughts on ‘new year,’ ‘old decade’

I suppose we’re a week into the new year now, it’s getting “late” for one of those year-end/new-year type of posts. Especially in internet time. New Year’s memes were born, blossomed, and wilted in the space of hours – I watched a few of them come and go and get replaced by newer, even-shorter-lived ones on Twitter over the weekend. A few of them drew my interest, got me thinking, but my thinking lasts longer than online conversations. I’m sure I’m not finished thinking, yet.

One of the thoughts was related to the apparent ‘new decade’ (no need to get into technical definitions and ‘counting starts at 1’ – my beliefs about time are far and away less specific, & more meaningful and orderly) and the question of what one was doing 10 years prior. On Twitter this was often read as 10 years ago to the minute; I suppose it was fun for people to think about a 10-year-old party on New Year’s Eve. But a lot can happen in ten years. A lot happened in mine. Ten years ago…  Ten years ago I’d already begun painting again, a bit, though I still hadn’t re-started my writing.  Ten years ago I’d just begun creating online comics for the first time. Ten years ago I was living in Tempe. Ten years ago I cut my hair off: New Year’s Eve 1999 I had hair so long I could sit on it, New Year’s Day 2000 I had “normal” short hair.  Ten years ago this month I was getting fired (technically I quit) from MicroAge for insubordination for calling out my boss’s incompetence in front of the other employees (he & I & his boss & HR all agreed he was incompetent and that I was right about everything except saying so where the other employees could hear), and later that day I was getting hired at Realink. It was nearly ten years ago that Sara said yes. (Did you know she said yes, once?) Continue reading Thoughts on ‘new year,’ ‘old decade’