The hard part about writing every day isn’t thinking of what to write about. The writing itself isn’t hard. It’s the publishing. It’s the shipping. It’s the declaration to the world that says “this is what I’ve made.”
I’ve always had a weird obsession with daily writing and daily publishing.
Practically speaking, it’s not a good way to build an audience or build a business. My daily blog has no content plan, no structure, no “ideal audience member.” I write mostly for myself.
So why do it? Why write every day? Why publish every day?
When you look into the blank page, you are looking into a void.
You are looking into an infinite world of possibilities, a universe of ideas and concepts. You are staring into yourself and you are asking yourself “what can I become?”
What is scarier than looking into the void? Nothing makes you feel so small like looking into the abyss. When you look into a blank page, you are trying to narrow down “everything” into one thing. You are doing so with words and grace and restraint.
Out of the literal infinite possibilities that this blank page could be, you have to decide on one thing, and then you have to ship it out to the world and declare “this is what I’ve made today.”
That’s quite a weight of responsibility. Every day, you are responsible for making something out of everything. So then what happens? Naturally, you start to think “is this the best I could have done?”
The answer: Of course not. You could have done better.
But the purpose of writing every day isn’t to write perfectly.
The point is to conquer that piece of yourself. The point is to look into this abyss and confront “the monster that lurks in the darkness.”
It’s no small feat to look into a blank page and declare what it is that you are. When you write every day, you are confronting all the things you wish you could be and declaring to yourself and to the world that you will try to be those things.
It’s a feat that should be celebrated.