I’ll start with an apology. To all the people I didn’t attend to, didn’t call back, didn’t see their messages, I owe you one. I’m sorry, I was stuck in a space warp, sprinting a marathon. But I’m on the other side now, so expect my calls real soon :)

What happened? The title says it. I was writing a book. A 40,000-word long piece of technical writing that demanded the whole of me. That burnt all my brain cells and fractured the nerves that go through the back of my hand and flattened my fingertips. That left me sleepless and careless.

Why would I do such a thing?

Short answer, I had a deadline to meet (today) and I’m a committed person, I respect deadlines, I get my work done on time. So, I wrote the book before the deadline.

Long answer, bullshit!

Let me explain the real reason why I did this, the complete story. I got this project in January. I was supposed to write a book and develop a supporting application. I got two months to finish the whole thing that, I felt, was very less time. Those months were exceptionally busy already (you know if you’ve been reading my letters), and then life played a wild card that twisted things even further. No worries, I got an extension of another month.

I finished coding that supporting app just last week. So almost 3 months in and I haven’t even started the book. I could get another extension, sure. Another month or two, and I could finish the book, sure.

But here’s the thing — this project had a huge opportunity cost. I was missing out on things. I was postponing things. These three months, I had to delay an apprenticeship, two job offers, a writing gig, and my personal projects. Anything that would come my way, I’d say, “Please wait, let me finish this one thing first and then we’ll start”. And that one thing just didn’t finish. Even after three months, I was yet to start writing the book.

It happened once, I didn’t notice. It happened again, I let it go. It kept happening and I kept ignoring it because it felt right and natural. I’m supposed to finish what I start before moving to the next thing, right?

But then, my friend asked for a trip. Probably our last trip for a long time before he moves down south, 2100km away. That’s when it hit me — all the things that I’ve been postponing, they’re not going to wait for me. They’re not waiting for this project to finish. They’re dissolving, they’re slipping away.

I could see it all now. Even though they said they’d wait, the apprenticeship didn’t happen, I’m not taking any of those jobs, no idea about that writing gig, and my personal projects are slowly dying down as just ideas in my head.

And now this trip! No, this couldn’t happen. Not at least for one stupid project. So I had two choices — let go of yet another thing. Or, write this book, from start to finish, in six days. I went with the latter.

How did I do it? For starters, I threw my phone away. First I put the world on mute, then my own mind. I locked myself in my room, tied myself to the desk. I didn’t talk, I didn’t listen, I switched off all sources of information to save up on mental bandwidth.

I built a stupidly simple routine. Wake up, write, sleep. Wake up, write, sleep. Wake up, write, sleep. It’s quite effective I would say.

I took breaks, lots of them, but in small chunks — a few minutes or so. Meals were my milestones. A thousand words before lunch, two sections after dinner, you get the idea. During those meals, I watched Demon Slayer. Not that it’s related to the process, but just so you know ;)

This sort of intensity helps you get things done faster. After a point, I was thinking with my fingers, not my brain. My typing speed was faster than my computer could handle. By day 6, I was ahead of my schedule so I took a half day :) And in case you’re wondering, the quality stays uncompromised despite the pace.

How do I feel? I feel surprised that it all worked out. I feel annoyed that it had to be this way. I feel happy and proud that I did what I thought, I feel like I earned this Sunday, and I feel like crying. I feel so so exhausted, but recovering. I don’t like what I did, but I like the feeling of having done it. It feels good, I’m relieved that it’s over. I’m finally calm.

Would I recommend such intensity? No, not once. Not for any reason whatsoever. There’s no point. Just don’t work this way. Please.

🤔 Makes me wonder

When I was writing this piece, the person sitting next to me made a phone call. I didn’t notice, until his voice echoed in the entire cafe. He was loud, lashing out at the other person, insulting him, cussing him, threatening him. From what I could make out, it was about money.

Absurd it was. It reminded me of this passage from Siddhartha.

💭 Aphorisms

I’m gonna pick my phone back up now. Let’s see what the world is up to. It’s gonna be another intense day but in a good way ;)

Until next week,
Aachman