Getting Started

I like to program computers. At this point in my life, I have written more code than any other kind of text. After decades of sitting in front of text editors, plugging out one language or another, I find that writing code comes naturally and easily. It is not difficult for me to examine a problem, and immediately jump into an editor. I know where I am going, and I know the tools I will use to get there. The journey is fun and any stumbles or unclear choices become lessons and ultimately make me stronger. Faster. More confident. The challenges are endless and every on is an opportunity to level up.

I like to program.

Writing, on the other hand, is not as easy. I languish over word choice and often get lost amidst the paragraphs of text. For some reason the peace and comfort of tapping the keys is replaced by a tightening in my face and the slow, erratic movement of the cursor.

I believe that there is a lesson here. I believe that writing might be easier than I realize, if only I change my perspective. It is possible that I have been acquiring the skills to write all along, but simply failed to see how they apply.

When writing code I can easily chunk out large, disconnected sections of code and then plumb them together with some broad handler methods. The work starts as pieces and comes together to culminate in fluid, end-to-end interaction. In writing, however, I enjoy no such freedom. The cursor has two motions: forward and back. Add a letter or delete a word.

As a vim user, I am used to dancing around a document. Leaping from rock to rock, dipping my toe in the character stream only where necessary. In C# or JavaScript this seems natural. However in English, this seems like breaking an ancient contract. One word in front of the other. Never backwards.

When thinking about a program, my mind sums up the problem as a whole. A simple, clear task. And then, I break it into as many pieces as necessary and begin to fill in gaps. When writing a document, I assume the words will come in the order that is right and good and that is that.

The difference seems so obvious now. When I code I feel like I am at play, so I have no problem bouncing around, making mistakes, and improving as I go. When writing, I fear the rejection of the audience from the first words, and fail to enjoy the process of completing small, simple works.

And so the journey of a thousand miles begins. An act of translation. Developing text and text development skills as I would code. I think it’s time to move as fast as I can, enjoy the act of writing, and let the stumbles be my guide.

:wq