A Space for Doodles ✏️

An invitation to join me in the messy middle

Jan 31, 2025

I have 18 hours to publish this post. I made a commitment to publish monthly in 2025, and here I am, racing against January's deadline.

Last November, I completed Write of Passage1. I published three essays that made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I could call myself a writer.

But then the program ended, and my brain started to buzz with the usual questions: What should I write about? What should my niche be? What should I call my newsletter? The questions multiplied - I was trying to make art, when I needed to be drawing stick figures.

If I didn't do something, I would spend the next three years thinking about writing, instead of actually writing.

So I joined Michael Dean's Essay Club 2 in December 2024. Every month, we commit to what we will publish. Michael keeps us accountable, offers guidance, and best of all – tracks our publishing streaks.

I blew it in December. Work, travel, holidays – the usual suspects. Now it's January 30, and I'm making the same excuses. But this time, I'm publishing, even if it means giving up hours of polishing.

Becoming a 💩 Writer

I was inspired by John Min's "my new identity is being a shit writer" post3. It's raw. It's unfiltered. It's uncapitalized. But It's also real. It's honest. And it shows the courage to share something that isn't polished to perfection. Henrik Karlson4, Michael Dean5, and Becky Isjwara6 create similar spaces – little corners of the internet where "not ready" is perfectly acceptable.

There's something beautifully defiant about publishing writing that isn't "done". It's a way to experiment, break things and figure out what works. Like doodling in the margins, a reminder than not everything I create needs to be a masterpiece.

It's also a way to connect. I'm showing my imperfection and vulnerability hoping to build the kind of relationships online that aren't possible in a world of sterile LinkedIn profiles and curated Instagram stories.