Sharing and Collecting Thoughts

Looking through johnaugust.com for something to add to the Inneresting newsletter, I saw this post from 2006:

WriteRoom 2.0 is in beta, but there’s nothing spectacularly different or better than plain old 1.0. Either version is worth checking out.

As for the inevitable question:  Could I write a script with it?

Yes, no, maybe.

I’ve actually had conversations with two gurus of web markup about creating a simplified screenplay markup that could be imported into “real” screenwriting applications like Final Draft. 

John August, “I heart WriteRoom”

It’s a post that predates the first version of Highland. It’s the seed of an idea.

It’s almost 15 years since that post, and finding it now gives perspective on the work that happened between then and now on Highland.

Imagine how hard it would be to get that sense of perspective if that rave about WriteRoom had been a tweet.

It’s not easy to archive or look back on tweets. The service is designed to encourage a focus on the immediate present.

I’ve thought a lot about the value of having my own blog, and what social media is really good for, and this moment clarified something for me:

Having a blog is better for a person to be able to look back on what they were thinking. It’s a way of sharing something with your future self.

I need to remember that time spent questioning if something is possible to do is often better spent trying to actually do it.

It’s like being a pundit, looking at your life from the outside.

It’s better to trust my ability to work than my abilities at precognition.

Pages aren’t precious

Sometimes you need to find momentum in the act of writing before you can find your story.

Pages you throw out don’t count as wasted effort if they helped you find the good stuff.

Judging Yourself vs. Judging Your Work

This flow chart shows up in Adam Grant’s Think Again:

Any writer having trouble with this difference should print it out and stick it up where they work.

Recognizing your work isn’t as good as you’d like it to be is a necessary step toward recognizing what needs to be fixed.

And this is a concise way to remember why your attitude matters.

The last few days I’ve worked on revisions in Google Docs and Highland 2 for different projects.

You get an expected word salad on your screen when collaborating on a virtual document that tracks changes. It takes a few extra moments to parse what you’ve actually written. Small changes can have outsized influence, interfering with the legibility of a sentence or paragraph. But I can get past that pretty quickly.

Even when the markup is more subtle, like the revision mode in Highland, there’s a false sense of security that comes from looking at something that shows you what you’ve changed.

“Oh, I already revised there. It’s probably solid enough.”

When I used to print drafts out and mark them up in pencil before heading back to the keyboard, the friction of looking between two separate documents made me re-evaluate every change. I always found more tweaks and changes I wanted to make.

I’m not about to call for abolishing digital revision tracking — It makes remote collaboration possible.

Still, additional friction helps me slow down and make sure I haven’t missed an opportunity to put my best work forward. I appreciate that.