Twelve easy pieces

A year or so ago, I started posting a series of pieces which I sent out every two weeks over the course of six months. I framed it as a way to ‘think out loud’, which gave me the chance to work out (or work through) an idea or observation.

Publishing gave me the discipline to ‘get the fuck on with it’ (as Nick Parker’s ‘one size fits all’ productivity cards put it) and allowed others to ‘eavesdrop’. Doing so once a fortnight meant it didn’t get overwhelming. Limiting it to a dozen pieces stopped it feeling like a chore.

So I am going to do it again. Twelve pieces, one a fortnight, from now until November. Just like last year, I am doing it for its own sake. I am not trying to grow an audience (though that seems to happen in a gentle way, regardless). I am not promoting or selling anything (even obliquely). I am not researching a book, or exploring any particular theme or subject matter. I want to allow myself to be whimsical and capricious - indulgent even.

If I feel beholden to you I can’t do that, so, with apologies for being blunt, this means that I am not interested in you, the reader¹. I won’t be trying to guess what you care about or want to hear, or what might be of benefit or interest to you.

In fact, this is true whatever I am writing. When I began to write books plenty of people gave me the advice to ‘have your reader in mind’. But I never knew what to do with that. When it’s just me and the page, the only barometer I have is what is interesting to me. It turns out I am not alone in this. In a brilliant piece about writing by Adam Mastroianni, he says:

“Usually, we try to teach motive by asking: “Why should I, the reader, care about this? This is reasonable advice, but it’s also wrong. You, the writer, don’t know me. You don’t have a clue what I care about…… What I really want to know is: why do you care? You could have spent your time knitting a pair of mittens or petting your cat or eating a whole tube of Pringles. Why did you do this instead? What kind of sicko closes the YouTube tab and types 10,000 words into a Google doc?”²

In the world of improv theatre there is a similar mantra that actors use on stage: “don’t be interesting, be interested”. Which makes me wonder - is the idea of holding the reader in mind just a story we tell ourselves to try and appear generous and public spirited? Perhaps there are other contexts where we might do better by being in closer touch with our own interests? Maybe it would serve us better to be more open with ourselves and with others about what those interests are?

This might be enough to make you unsubscribe now. Though on the other hand, not knowing what might come next could be a reason to stay. Take your pick, it won’t make any difference to me.

For my part, I am curious to see what I write about and whether new patterns emerge, I return to old ones, or it is all just a bit random. Much like you, I will just have to wait and see: I am off to eat a whole tube of Pringles.

1. Like pretty much anyone, I am fascinated by people in real life but the theoretical, abstract reader isn’t a person at all.

2. His piece is so good that if you are thinking of writing something yourself, I would recommend that you stop reading this and go and read that instead.