97 logs -- I cover AI prompting, writing curriculum, marijuana, architecture school, publishing strategies, slang, astral projection, mold, woo, Twitter, re-association, and the bagel store mysteries.
101 logs -- I cover pseudonyms, exclamation marks, acronyms, editing, the tension of being a teacher that experiments, Fernando Pessoa, doomsday satire, the salary of the world’s top racquetball player, and how writing affects memory.
AI is the machine version of 'automatic writing.' Poets, musicians, and occultists have tapped into this for centuries. Instead of using AI tools with poor UIs, writers should learn to tap into the subconscious.
New tradition. Every time I hit a Twitter milestone, I'll take out the typewriter and rage-write about social media. If my Tweets are short and valuable, these are long and delirious. It's an exercise in rhyming, phrase variation, and free-association.
Every week day I host a one-hour 'Feedback Gym' in Write of Passage. It's an event centered around 1:1 breakout rooms where people read and exchange spoken feedback. It fuses the face-to-face character of live session breakouts with the collaborative spirit of async editing.
Given the sheer volume of left-brained editing I do, I figured I'd go through Cohort 9 with a 1956 typewriter. This thing is an 'anti-editing machine.'
117 logs -- I cover writing, creativity, nuclear paranoia, my neighbor Wilbur Doyle, counter-culture literature, dreams, Fountainhead, batshit crazy takes on Christianity, the mating rituals of slugs, non-sense, notes from an airplane, baseball, algorithm pimps, virtual reality, and more.
36 logs -- I experiment with bulleted lists running through the day, I also cover inspirations, titles, Hog Island, Maryland, cake, DMT, the universe, dirt, one-way doors, and the role of the writer.
Jack Kerouac was a famous writer from 1950's, but he referred to his own practice as "sketching." Like a painter, he'd look around slowly to soak in and reflect on the details. As images and memories bubbled up, he'd scribble them into flowery, never-ending sentences. When Kerouac writes, it feels
“At what point should I share my essay with editors? Should I ask for feedback as soon as possible, or should I wait until it’s a coherent draft?” Both! The biggest misconception about feedback is that it’s a singular event. You don’t have to write in isolation