Issue 1 - Beginnings
The early stages of anything are only a certainty in hindsight. We have a tendency to look at some concrete thing in the world -- airplanes, Facebook, Disney World, a magnificent oak tree -- and imagine it had a confident, assured beginning.
But for every Disney World there are ten or more abandoned theme parks; for every magnificent oak, a hundred acorns failed to germinate and another twenty trees didn’t make it.
"Abandoned father xmas themed amusement park...", by Paul Keller on Flickr
We forget that beginnings are uncertain, and we struggle with them as a result.
All of which is to say: this is an experiment, and I’m not yet sure where it will go. The initial goal is to write an installment every Sunday throughout 2020; beyond that, if it's valuable and still fun-to-do, we'll keep right on going!
I have been semi-retired from the internet for… oh, the timescales around such things are so hazy, but the last time I tweeted was in November of 2018, so let’s say 13 months.
I don’t have any grand, revelatory reasons for being so offline. I hate all the same things about social media that you do; I just happened to be busy and preoccupied enough during 2019 to put it all down and walk away from it. The reduction in stress which resulted has, for me, far far outweighed the loss of connection that I’ve felt.
But now I'm permanently based in South Florida, a 6-hour flight away from large portions of my personal community, finally settling into a solid “life rhythm” again, and I want... something. Is an email newsletter a horrible indulgence? Do I have anything worth sharing or saying? Well, now we’re back to beginnings, and the ways in which we can only judge them in hindsight.
So, why a newsletter? In large part, it's because I like the format. Many of my most useful insights and delighted new discoveries come via newsletter these days, particularly the small, usually-weekly personal variety.
In particular, I've been inspired a lot by Robin Sloan's just-completed "Year of the Meteor" project, not least this specific exhortation (from Week 51):
If the format speaks to you, I really do encourage you to start one up, maybe even weave it together with some others that already exist. Brace yourself: newsletters don’t offer the dopamine drip of Instagram and Twitter. They grow slowly. They receive zero hearts, zero stars (though they do sometimes earn a reply, which is far better). You really need to enjoy the simple act of sitting down to write one, or you might as well be doing something else.
I also can't recommend Jon Sung's "A Corgi Class Starship" highly enough. It's just the right mix of personal ephemera, pop-philosophy and constantly-wonderful link-logging to keep one connected to the world without feeling overwhelmed.
Other pieces of the plan here are inextricably linked with my brother-in-law, Kevin Cheng. I first met Kevin when our two separate startups (mine: Tomfoolery, his: Incredible Labs/Donna) were acquired by Yahoo back in 2014, but you may have stumbled across him via his work as a DJ, his erstwhile webcomic OK/Cancel, our Burning Man camp Friendlandia, which he founded... or any number of other projects.
Kevin introduced me to my now-wife, Amy, and is therefore partly responsible for the fact that I live in Florida instead of San Francisco.
He also wrote a great piece in August 2016 which explored the idea of a "Vague Mountain" as a goal -- critically, a not-too-specific goal -- through which one can explore one's creative purpose.
Kevin and I seem to regularly, accidentally roll through similar phases in our professional and creative lives, and for several years at New Year, both of us (along with a wider group of friends) have been picking a "theme word" to define our goals for the year ahead.
Independently, both of us chose "create" for 2020. The Vague Mountain Chronicle will serve, amongst whatever else evolves, as a medium of, and a place to report whatever creative things crop up.
I promise, all of this preamble will be over soon. But before it is, I want to take a moment to acknoweledge the enormous privilege which allows me to sit in my own dedicated air-conditioned home-office, in a rather nice, quiet, secluded house where it's currently 75 degrees Fahrenheit outside. I have the resources, and the time, and the support to pursue Vague Mountains of ideas. I don't have to worry (overly) about my family's healthcare, or (at all) about where the next meal is coming from.
I think it's important to acknowledge such things -- the life I live, and this particular refractive window into it, are only possible through a great deal of good fortune, and an underlying social structure which means my gender and my skin-color shield me from a lot of judgment, discrimination and risk. I hope that such acknowledgments will become less necessary as the 2020s progress, but, well... gestures towards the White House... we'll see.
There now follow some sections which may or may not become recurring features of the Chronicle.
Project Updates
In which I attempt to keep myself honest by talking about things I'm thinking of making, or have half-made. Or perhaps, have put successfully out into the world. Here's hoping.
You see all the little traps and pitfalls I'm putting in my way as I write this? Forcing myself to lean into particular things? If this section is regularly blank, it's going to become painfully obvious when I'm making no progress. So, to kick off, here are a few things I've spent time working on over the last few years.
Planet 67 Alpha - A Young Adult-targeted "soft" Sci-Fi novel which packs a lot of tropes (Cop/Criminal buddy-movie, accidental alien abduction, space-faring mercenaries, maniacal villain hell-bent on destruction, omnipotent advanced alien races, bureaucratic galactic governments) into its frame whilst, I hope, doing enough new things to be entertaining.
It's had a pass through a professional editor, and decent feedback from test-readers, but I got busy finding a day-job and moving house before I could really get into the flow of querying literary agents (which is, for the record, a surprisingly disheartening and time-consuming way to spend time). Life is getting more settled again, so its time to face my fear of rejection and try to get the damn thing out into the world.
If you're curious about the general "feel" of the book, this short story about a custodial droid is as good a place as any to start.
IDGAF - A party game for people who are tired of Cards Against Humanity. Kind of like a super-charged version of the Never Have I Ever drinking game, with a few extra twists and turns baked into the rules.
Currently it's sitting in my office in the form of a hand-written index-card prototype. It's had a couple of very fun play-tests, but I never carved out the time to formalize card designs and get proper prototype decks printed up. So, next steps there are pretty clear...
The IDGAF Prototype, in all its crudely-rendered glory
(and, for the record, I think Cards Against Humanity have built something incredible. But also that there's room for other games at this point)
A Ramp for my shed - Welcome to suburbia, where the lawn requires a riding mower, the riding mower lives in a shed, but the wooden ramp to put it in the shed has rotted through. I'm pretty excited to learn how to use a miter saw for this one. And also terrified -- have you seen a miter saw? I'm hopeful this'll be a "gateway" project into building lots of other things out of wood.
This is a miter saw
Jeremiah Cooper - this may not go any further than it already has; I'm not sure the economics easily make sense. But I've always had a fondness for making condiments, and a few months ago I got on a real "Victorian design" kick (and a "learn how to use design tools" kick), and ended up coming up with an idea for a faux-Victorian condiment brand, "Jeremiah Cooper's Culinary Curiosities".
A mocked-up condiment label
BassCoat / Lightness - This idea hails from 2016, and is a simple (if ridiculous) one -- a furry coat studded with LEDs which pulse in time to the bassline of any nearby music. Yes, it's a Burning Man project and yes, I've worn it out on Playa. It worked pretty well, although I never really got all the connections as bullet-proof as I'd like - soldering something that can stand up to the movement of clothing is challenging (and issues with electrical resistance made using conductive thread a non-starter).
The code and a basic howto are on GitHub. Relatedly, I'd like to take the same idea and turn it into a simple harness which can be worn over other clothing, because a big furry coat isn't always practical (if, for example, you now live in a tropical swamp).
DJing - also Kevin Cheng’s fault! Last year’s chaos, including long periods where my audio gear was packed away, led to less of this than I’d have liked. It’d be great to put out a set per month in 2020, but that might be over-ambitious. We’ll see.
There are more ideas in the idea-box, but these are the ones where some level of planning/production has taken place. Feel free to nudge me if you're intrigued by any of them, or (even better) can offer some kind of input/assistance.
I've been having some thoughts recently about ways to form some kind of collective in order to pull together everyone's ideas and talents and build more momentum to fleshing out interesting (and hopefully worthwhile) projects. The keys, I think, are trust (as in, we trust all participants to do their honest best) and equality (decisions are made together, and any benefit shared equally). This is a theme I'll almost certainly return to in future weeks.
A Thing of Beauty
There are a lot of beautiful things in the world, both natural and man-made. The voracious hell-beast which is Modern Capitalism often warps them and destroys them, but that's why it's all the more important to acknowledge simple, well-made things when we find them. I'll probably highlight something like this most weeks.
At home, we're currently in need of a pitcher for various water-related kitchen tasks, and I wanted to find an enamelware version because it's lightweight but near-indestructible.
It's also incredible how many ugly water-jugs exist in the world.
Enter Falcon Enamelware, a British company who (they claim) invented Enamelware in the 1920s. Look at this thing. It's so simple, clean; elegant and timeless -- I hope that at least one design school somewhere is using this as an example of How To Do It Right.
Ephemera
Links to things which made my brain do a little flip of joy.
There'll be more here in future, maybe. But let's keep a clean-ish slate given we're embarking on a new decade, and just throw in a couple of links this week.
Hot Ones is a genuinely great interview show, almost despite its gimmick of a hot-sauce endurance contest, framing increasingly-personal questions. They make their own sauces in collaboration with Heatonist, and have an increasingly A-list (but pleasingly varied) selection of interview guests. Anyway, whether or not you've seen the show, the recent-ish installment with Paul Rudd was (for my money) the best yet. He is a goddamn delight throughout.
The Secret Lives of Color - Finally plucked from my reading-pile over Christmas, this is one of those books which needs to be experienced as a physical thing; digital renderings lose the pleasure of the page-borders which illustrate the color being discussed. And the discussion is fascinating; part social-history, part material-science, part pure whimsy.
I believe there's an essential place for books as objects in an increasingly digital world, and this one is a perfect example of why.
Endnote
That was... fun. For me, at least. If it was fun for you, feel free to let me know by replying to this email. Even better, tell your friends to sign up!