In no particular order:

• Creative work doesn’t have to spring fully-formed from my head.
• It doesn’t have to be perfect the first time.
• It doesn’t have to be perfect at all.
• Learning is as important as doing.
• What I did right is way more important than what I did wrong.
• Mine is the only judgment that counts.
• I can be creative in more than one way.
• Just because it’s been done before doesn’t mean I can’t do it again.

I download a lot of ebooks. Right now I have 238 PDFs in my “ebooks” directory, and that’s not counting the ones that I’ve downloaded but haven’t sorted yet (which is in the double digits). I’ve read most of the ones in “ebooks” – I’d say about 60% – and none of the ones in “Downloads”. The ones that I’ve downloaded but not sorted yet often have names like – I am not making this up – “download.pdf” and “My eBook.pdf” and “blogging.pdf”. These are not helpful names. These are names that are easy and convenient for the producer but have little to no bearing on the content or the source and are therefore of little to no value to the consumer.

Why is this so common? Because it’s easy and convenient for the producer. Maybe the producer assumes you’ll be reading it right away, so the knowledge of what PDF it is will be fresh; or you’ll be reading it in a browser, so the filename won’t really matter; or that this is the only ebook you’ve ever downloaded (believe it or not, I know one producer who relies on that).

But the truth is, people Save Link As… and then forget about it. Once a week when they clean up their Downloads folder they find “mygreatpdf.pdf” and decide to delete it so they’ll have the space for more downloaded episodes of “Laverne and Shirley”. Your ebook doesn’t get read, because your target reader doesn’t remember what it is, or from whom they got it, or why they even have it in the first place.

The important part:

Make sure the name of your ebook (or audio file or worksheet or whatever) is an accurate reflection of both the source and the content of the file. Sure, the consumer could rename the file to whatever she wants. But that requires opening the file, finding the name of the content (actually not always very easy), finding the name of the author, closing the file (since Acrobat won’t let you modify an open PDF), and renaming the file (“I double-click on the name to rename it and it just opens the damn file again“). Why take the risk that she’ll just say “eh, can’t have been that important” and delete it? It is trivial effort on your part when you’re making the file – you have to give it a name, after all, and you may as well give it a useful one – and significant effort when your reader is looking at the file.

English has nine directional/place words that indicate position in or movement regarding a place. Three of them we use pretty much every day; six have fallen into disuse, which is sad, because they’re pretty amazing words. To illustrate, imagine that you are standing at the other end of a football field from your good friend Bob. Francine, another friend, is moving around the football field:

• Position

  • Here means “in this place”. “Francine is here, next to me.”
  • There means “in that place”. “Francine is there, next to Bob.”
  • Where means “in what place”. “Where is Francine? I don’t see her.”

• Direction toward

  • Hither means “to this place”. “Francine is coming hither, from Bob to me.”
  • Thither means “to that place”. “Francine is going thither, from me to Bob.”
  • Whither means “to what place”. “Whither is Francine going? She’s off to the sidelines and running fast.”

• Direction away from

  • Hence means “from this place”. “Francine is going hence, from me to Bob.”
  • Thence means “from that place”. “Francine is coming thence, from Bob to me.”
  • Whence means “from what place”. “Whence is Francine coming? She just reappeared with a bucket of Gatorade…”

(Incidentally, this means that “from whence” is redundant. “Whence” already means “from where”.)

Consider the following number sets:

1. {1,2,3,4,5}
2. {1,2,3,4,5}
3. {1,2,3,4,5}
4. {1,2,3,4,5,6}
5. {1,2,3,4,5,7,8}

Clearly 1, 2, and 3 are not unique among these number sets: each is duplicated exactly by another set.

Clearly 4 and 5 are unique among these number sets: each contains at least one number that is contained in no other set in the group. (A putative 6th set that lacked one number – say, {1,3,4,5} – would also be unique, because it didn’t duplicate another set exactly.)

However, 5 can be characterized as more unique than 4; that is, it has more characteristics that set it apart from the rest of the sets.

This opens the door.

Assume a group of sets with increasing variance from the baseline:

1. {1,2,3,4,5}
2. {1,2,3,4,5}
3. {1,2,3,4,5}
4. {1,2,3,4,5,6}
5. {1,2,3,4,5,7,8}
6. {1,2,3,4,5,9,10,11}
7. {1,2,3,4,5,12,13,14,15}
8. etc.

Each of the sets 4-7 is still unique, because no other set duplicates it. In addition, the more degrees of difference a set has from the baseline, the more unique it is. Therefore, by the standard established by 7 (the most unique of the listed sets, with four degrees of uniqueness), set 4 is only relatively unique (with only one degree of uniqueness). Set 6 is rather unique; and so on.

(Thank goodness I have this blog to absorb my random thoughts.)

I was expecting to have a conversation with my Goblin General when I sat down this evening. I started sketching my Monster – part of engaging these monsters is visualizing them – and I was surprised.

Hello, Monsters, I said. “Monsters”. Because: I see three of you. All three had little goblins scurrying around below them, carrying out orders.

The first was – is – me, but colossal. A parody of overweight. Hand in a bowl of popcorn and candy, too heavy to even sit up, having to look over his massive stomach to meet my gaze. You’re how I see myself, I said. You want to protect me from disappointment.

He nodded, with effort. “Look, giving up isn’t so bad. You get to relax all the time. You get to eat tasty food. And you’re still alive, right? I mean, you’ve lived through everything so far. Why not assume that’ll hold?”

I turned my attention to the second. He was me, too, but just a head, with no body, floating next to the first. I’d thought I’d recognized his expression out of the corner of my eye, but when I really looked I realized I was mistaken. I thought he was angry, passing judgment, telling me how awful I was. Instead he was worried, eyebrows raised, brow furrowed a little, his frown one of compassion rather than upset. You’re trying to protect me too, I said, just in a different way.

“Do you really want to put your work out in front of everybody?” he asked. “You don’t really think it’s any good, so why should you think anyone else will think so? And since you don’t think you’re improving, you’re probably right. No sense in continuing to practice if you’re not going to get any better.”

I looked at the third. This was difficult, because he was a long way off. He was recognizably me even at that distance, but the me I’d like to be in my wildest dreams – successful, thinner, and happy. You’re trying to protect me by staying away from me, I called out.

He shouted back: “It’s such a long way to your goals, and you’ll have to move so slowly to get here. It’s so much easier and pleasant to stay where you are; I’m just trying to save you effort. And you remember how much you dislike driving long distances? Getting here is even harder than that.”

I sighed, and spoke so they could all hear me. O my Monster Selves, I said, thank you for trying to protect me. I know that you want me to be happy and you’re just doing your jobs. It’s hard for you to see me try and fail.

But I need something from you: I need to move forward. I need to get going again. I need to start taking risks and putting myself out there and getting things done.

Self-Image Monster, I said, I won’t live through becoming you. I am already dangerously unhealthy. I need to change in order to live. Instead of encouraging me to give up, would you please protect me by reminding me that that’s not how I want to be?

The first monster nodded again. “But,” he said, “you have to make me a promise. I want to change too. I’m your self-image and if you can’t live being me, then I can’t live being me either. I want to change.” I agreed.

I turned to the second. Concerned Monster, I need you to drive me to improve instead of discouraging me. Help me keep moving forward by helping me recognize what I have left to do. You’re good at seeing my shortcomings; help me turn them into successes instead.

The Concerned Monster was recalcitrant. “You’ll still get laughed at and judged,” he said. “You’ll still get hurt.”

Let’s give it a trial, then, I told him. Until the end of the month. If nothing horrible has happened, then we’ll keep going.

“Okay,” he said, “but only if I get to decide what counts as horrible.”

I turned to the third and pulled out a megaphone. Future Monster, I am willing to move as slowly as you need me to, if you will help me by standing still, so that I know that my journey has an end. When I reach you I promise that you can move away again so I have something new to aim for. I won’t stop just because I’ve reached you.

He said nothing, but a green sign popped up next to me. It had “Future Me: ?? Miles” written on it in white Futurist lettering. I took that as a positive sign.

The little goblin armies had scattered. They were nowhere to be seen.

I got up and opened my eyes, and here I am.

Your thoughts

Like Havi, I’m practicing asking for what I want. Here’s what I’d like to receive in the comments:

• Your experiences with your monsters.
• Support and friendly chatter.

What I don’t want:

• Criticism of my methods or results.
• Other kinds of thrown shoes.
• Shoulds, judgment, and other kinds of negative thoughts.
• Non-productive “advice”.

Thanks for reading!

but at the same time i wish
there was something i wanted
as badly as he wanted to fry himself

- Don Marquis, The Lesson of the Moth