Intermittence

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As I write this, I am seated on a train headed to Canterbury, for the first time in a long time, to see an old friend, and am sad that tablespace on trains is now so lacking to be inexistent.

Earlier in the week, my ratings went up, and stayed up, rather well. Much of this I attribute to the regularity of posting so that new material reared itself* almost every day.

My good friend and fellow academic Byrnsweord tells of similar success when the situation is the same.** Indeed, the sheer wealth of Post-a-Day and Post-a-Week attempts suggest that the lifeblood on the intertubes is fresh content. New replaces and succeeds old.

I decided explicitly to not attempt to post every day (like my other*** friend Laura did). I think I would find the regiment stifling. While I ascribe to Mark Rosewater‘s belief that restriction breeds creativity, I don’t think this manner of enforcing sets me up in the right mood. I once tried a weekly blog, and failed by the third.

So, how do I counteract this entropy? Regarding the blog, I tend to self-propel now. I’ll find myself pre-blogging in my head, and not being able to shake it until the words are out. Regarding fiction-writing, I have a guideline that if I didn’t write yesterday, I must today.

I didn’t yesterday.

* I am aware that writing of it in this way suggests it should be self-propagating.

** Ooh, assonance.

*** I have three.

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Intermittence

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