I promised myself twelve articles this year one for each month and at number ten I am stumped for a topic. So what better topic to choose than reflecting on the challenge of producing content on a regular basis and how that relates to my work. I hope you are up for a rambling article because that’s what you are getting, raw thoughts plastered onto digital paper with reckless abandon.
As always there is a ChatGPT version for brevity at the end.
Producing content on a schedule is hard. I have a newfound respect for columnists and professional writers in general, especially when there is an expectation to produce content on a schedule. I set myself a challenge to write at least one article per month for 2024. Thus far I have been doing ok and nine of twelve are done. When I hit October I was stumped, everything I drafted felt like regurgitation or just plain hogwash. It may not have been for you, but I have a landscape of all the things I have written in the past trapped in my head and a lot of it starts to feel the same. This made me dig into how columnist specifically does their work, I mean some of these folks produce a piece per week, heck some a piece per day.
How can it be done, drafts, lots of drafts. It seems like a common process is to just write down ideas all the time and depending on what is happening in geo-politics, or your local situation or whatever takes your fancy you grab something out of the idea bag and focus on finishing that. The key here is to have a bag of tricks and the ability to stay focused on what you choose. Many writers have specific rituals and very specific approaches to starting and ending their days. It is a job after all. Writing the way I do, which is basically either stealing a bit of time in between other things, or early morning on a weekend or a late night when I can’t sleep isn’t really a process.
Ritual, Process and Practice. These are strange things that I am very well acquainted with because I do them on a daily basis for my real job, I would very much like to write for a living but it seems like solving problems and talking to people pays the bills far better than my musings do at the moment. I digress.
Rituals, “ceremonies consisting of a series of actions performed according to a prescribed order”. I have several of them depending on the activity whether it be waking up or going into a facilitated session, a difficult conversation or the unknown, I have several rituals I use to prepare myself and set my mind in the right space to deal with the task at hand.
Process, “a series of actions or steps taken in order to achieve a particular end”. Well, I have a bag full of this, it’s been collected over a career spanning decades and I can reach into my bag and find something that can either be used as-is or modified to fit the purpose or serve as a foundational aspect for creating something new. It’s hard when you start but the more things you do the fuller your bag of processes become.
Practice. “the actual application or use of an idea, belief, or method, as opposed to theories relating to it” This is an interesting one because it always feels different depending on the situation but more often than not stems from a handful of foundational elements or combinations of elements that are easily moulded to fit an activity.
The Need for Novelty. I would be a great columnist if I were publishing the same article in different newspapers every other week. It’s new to the subscribers of that specific circulation but to me it’s unoriginal and to be frank uninteresting. Like how some keynote speakers repeat the same talk over and over at different speaking engagements, new to this audience, very much old to the speaker. This is where writing and my normal day job start to have a real synergy. I have a limited “set of articles” that I publish to different clients and I’m always happy when they find it novel. Every client is novel and I treat them as unique lest a bias sneak in, however, I find myself quickly roaming the same roads I have travelled with so many others. To them, it’s a novel and exciting road trip for me it is a daily commute and this is where I find it very hard to be excited about well-trodden roads. I did a survey recently for feedback, it’s something I do every couple of months to get feedback on where to improve and one of the pieces of feedback was “I love the novel approaches you have to problem solving”. I love the feedback and I think I know what is going on.
Is it truly novel or just novel to you? This is something I struggle with often, I don’t always know when I am generating novel approaches for my own need to combat boredom or if I am truly generating novel approaches because the situation necessitates it. I’m very happy that people enjoy the novelty of what I bring to the table but novelty has a price and it can be high. Novelty by its nature is untested and unknown both of these either needing a leap of faith or experiments, both of which can be quite expensive. Look I don’t experiment on people only processes and practices, people are hard to experiment on I suspect that is why there are so many industries that are touchy about human experimentation. Poor joke but it’s what I have. But fundamentally I feel bored often, it’s probably just where I am in the middle of my expected life span so to speak, I have seen a lot, and done a lot and this means that very few things get me excited as being novel or new, so I make stuff up.
Generating Novelty to remain interested. It is by no means a bad idea to engineer novelty into your daily existence, novelty keeps the mind engaged and this in turn energies you. I know as well as everyone else that dealing with new things every day all day can burn you out just as badly as dealing with the same thing every day can crush your soul. I would never be able to work on a production line by choice, tightening two screws every day all day would drive me insane. There is a brilliant Charlie Chaplin sketch on this somewhere on the internet. Take into account this was shot in 1936 please it’s a different time but the essence of what is happening is the repetitiveness of the daily task turning a man insane to the point where that task becomes almost the only thing they can do. It’s also quite a funny sketch and you can read as much into it as you like given the power of hindsight. Thinking of it now Charlie Chaplin made a bunch of really interesting sketches as a satirical commentary on the life and times of the human race that is truly fascinating, go a look at some of them. I digress.
There is a need for novelty in my work and my hobbies. Writing this article strangely now feels novel because I’m basically writing an article about not being able to write an article. this in its own right is rather esoteric or perhaps more obscure or perhaps very plain and I think it’s amazing but it’s not. Only you can tell. I have many hobbies, some I pick up and put down some I stick with but in most instances the novelty wears off and the challenges of reaching the next level become too expensive or just too challenging and hobbies are intended to please not frustrate. Well, that is what I tell myself to appease my mind from backing away from a challenge. I have the same thing in my professional life, I got into the business and people side of information technology because engineering eventually started to feel extremely repetitive to me, just skinning another database so to speak, a new front end on the same structures and I use to play with satellite streams for goodness sake. I had the same thing with knife making, yes I used to make knives, and I still can, I have all the equipment and knowledge. However, everything I make now looks like a pointy thing with a handle, a prison shank and a fighting dagger now looks pretty much the same to me and this is the crux of novelty once it wears off, for me, it becomes a real problem, I get bored and then disengaged.
What do we do about the lack of novelty. I honestly only have extreme answers for the moment. I just change jobs or roles to get into something new, it’s an extreme shift and comes with some serious stress and anxiety but it is very novel and exciting. Alternatively, I have a very good friend who focuses her energies on neurodivergent coaching and her approach to novelty is to break things down into very small chunks to look at and find the novel items in the broad strokes of your Business as Usual. I have never tried this before but it’s worth doing seeing as how you don’t have to quit your job and you actually score by being more granular on your focus and actions. Now being a columnist, this is me desperately trying to loop back to the start, changing jobs is not really an option, I suppose you can change topic but again that’s hard when your job is writing financial articles. Using this premise in my mind novelty can only be generated by extremes, granularity or diversity. Either stop being a writer and do something else, break your writing down to explore nuances of your field or diversify your writing into other fields or genres. I think this is what I am going to do, seek out more diversity in my writing, most of what I write is people-related, perhaps a collection of proud but poorly written Haikus is on the cards.
Boredom can be crippling and when you become or feel trapped in a situation and it’s breaking you down this can be a very scary and difficult space. Check-in with your friends, vocalise your frustrations and fears and use this to reflect and find a way to generate some novelty, even if this means changing your keyboard for a washboard but nothing is worth your sanity.
The ChatGPT Version for Brevity:
On the Challenge of Consistent Writing and the Need for Novelty
I promised myself twelve articles this year—one per month—and now, at article ten, I’m stuck. So, here’s a reflection on the struggle of producing content regularly and how it relates to my work.
Creating on a schedule is tough. I’ve gained a new respect for columnists and writers who churn out pieces consistently. My goal was one article per month in 2024, and so far, I’ve written nine. But October has me stumped—everything I draft feels repetitive or forced. Maybe it wouldn’t seem that way to others, but I carry the memory of everything I’ve written, and it starts blending together. This got me thinking: how do professionals do it?
The answer seems to lie in drafts. Writers keep a collection of ideas, and when inspiration strikes—or deadlines loom—they pull from that “idea bag.” It’s a matter of having tools ready and focusing on one piece at a time. Many writers also rely on rituals to transition in and out of work. But for me, writing happens sporadically—during stolen moments, sleepless nights, or weekend mornings—without much structure.
Ritual, Process, and Practice
These concepts are familiar to me from my professional life. I rely on them for my job, though I dream of making writing my living.
- Rituals: Actions performed in sequence to prepare for a task—whether it’s waking up, facilitating a session, or having a tough conversation.
- Processes: Steps taken to achieve an outcome. With experience, these become second nature, and you build a toolkit of reusable approaches.
- Practice: Applying knowledge in real situations. While practice varies, it usually draws from familiar techniques adapted to new challenges.
The Dilemma of Novelty
Novelty keeps me engaged. In my job, I present familiar solutions to new clients, and their excitement makes it feel fresh—even if it’s not new to me. But maintaining enthusiasm for familiar tasks can be difficult. Feedback from a recent survey said, “I love your novel approach to problem-solving,” which made me wonder: Is it truly new, or does it just feel that way to them?
Novelty has its costs. It can require untested solutions, experiments, or leaps of faith. I don’t experiment with people—only processes—but I do wrestle with boredom. With experience, fewer things feel new, and that leaves me creating novelty just to stay interested.
Engineering Novelty to Stay Engaged
We all need novelty, but too much can be exhausting, while too little can crush the spirit. There’s a Charlie Chaplin sketch from 1936 that captures this perfectly—his character, overwhelmed by repetitive tasks, begins to lose his mind. It’s a brilliant satire of how monotony can erode a person’s sense of self.
I feel this in both my hobbies and my work. Even knife-making—a skill I still have—eventually became repetitive. Everything I made began to feel the same, just “pointy objects with handles.” When novelty fades, boredom takes over, and I struggle to stay engaged.
How to Handle the Loss of Novelty
When boredom sets in, I tend to seek extreme solutions—like changing roles or careers. This brings excitement, but also stress. A friend of mine who works in neurodivergent coaching suggests breaking tasks into smaller pieces to uncover new elements within familiar routines. I might try that next.
For columnists, the trick is finding novelty within a narrow scope. You can either switch genres, break down topics to explore nuances, or diversify your writing altogether. I think I’ll aim for more variety—maybe even try writing some poorly constructed haikus!
Boredom can be overwhelming, and it’s important to recognize when it’s taking a toll. If you feel stuck, reach out to friends, talk about your frustrations, and reflect. Sometimes, just changing your tools—or approach—can spark the novelty you need. Nothing is worth sacrificing your sanity.
Mind, on the rocks?! 