The end of something mediocre
One year ago, I started writing about something new every day. Three hundred and sixty-six posts later, I’m calling it a wrap.
There were three reasons I began the experiment:
- I want to improve as a writer, which won’t happen unless I write.
- I want to challenge myself to learn something worth writing every day.
- I want to develop the ability to publish myself without regard for how it is accepted.
Let’s start with the easiest to evaluate. I’ve published some really useless posts, which is something I would not typically have allowed from myself. Clearly, I am willing to publish something without caring too much what others think about it, though I’m not entirely sure it’s something to brag about here.
Goal number two is kind of a gimme, since I believe every person on the planet, even the slug playing Skyrim for 14 hours a day, learns something new every day. Whether that knowledge is worth clarifying in writing has more to do with the slug in question than the little bits of knowledge the slug accumulates, so it almost becomes an extension of the primary goal: to improve as a writer. So, did it work?
No. Well, maybe. But mostly, no. Some of the things I wrote here were worth reading. Most of them, especially lately, were rushed, pointless, and completed out of obligation. If I base my judgment of this goal on the quality of my writing here, I earn an eff minus. Maybe an eff plus. But it did affect my ability to write at work more quickly and effectively–I take less time to write things when I really care to write–so maybe writing crap frequently has its benefits.
In any case, goals and all that notwithstanding, I’m glad I decided to write every day, and glad I decided one year is long enough. I’m trying on some new ideas–a weekly post that’s actually worth reading, or some self-imposed assignments, maybe–but the daily adventure, if you’ll excuse the misnomer, has reached its end.