If I possessed willpower, you would not see this musing until after April 1. As I’ve discussed before, I find myself writing to post instead of writing to write. Yeah, this is going to be one of those life-changing thingies that will probably result in me altering my ways for a couple of days, only to return to my normal, consternated writings afterward. With that said, it might be safer if you put the computer down and stepped away from the computer.

I am halfway through Dinosaur Lethem’s excellent essay collection, The Disappointment Artist. Doolies recommended this book because a reviewer wrote that the book delved into Lethem’s psyche and explained his inspiration for writing. Doolies knows (because I bitch about it so often) that I’m trying to understand my own inspiration and writing process, and I enjoy reading other writers’ thoughts on this subject. The essays do reach those questions, but are mostly about Lethem’s childhood experiences, and their effect on his development as an author.

His essays leverage his wonderful storytelling to advance his conclusions. They are essays in the traditional sense: applying experience, reasoning, and research to develop an argument. They break down logically and are a decent (although not long) length—long enough to get the theme across without belaboring it. Using his writing as a guide, I’ve decided on an experiment. Instead of posting a day’s worth of barely edited writings, I will write longer essays with fully developed themes and original thoughts. (Yes, Chuck, even from here I see you nodding your head knowingly because you’ve done this on Liminality since its inception.)

Seeing as this is an experiment, I’m not sure how it will turn out. What I do know, however, is that if I post the parts I have written already, I will never finish. For me, posting is the reward. I love the moment where I release my writings into the wild. I wait eagerly for any response (which, except for the Nameless One, is rare). I’m OK with that. Just knowing it’s out there is all the salve I need to keep me going. But when I release it, my need to return to the writing diminishes. You would think that rewriting and making the work better would be rewarding in and of itself. But for me it isn’t. It’s hard to explain the psychology behind it, but from much experience, I know that my broken brain works on a minimalist philosophy: get good enough done and be done with it.

There you have it. I will still post my shorter thoughts (like this one), but I’m going to try to finish the longer works before posting. This will probably result in a decrease in frequency of posting but hopefully an increase in quality (even though we’re talking David quality, don’t hold your breath or you’ll turn red and probably pass out). This will not change my writing frequency, which I will continue to do almost every day for a few hours.

I’ll let you know when I change my mind and return to my old, slapdash ways.