I used to write more. Then I stopped.
Not because I had nothing to say, but because I fell into the usual excuses: no time, not good enough, not worth it. Drafts piled up and never got published. Eventually, not writing became the default.
After reading Writing for Developers with Phil Eaton’s book club, I remembered why writing used to be part of how I work. And why I want to get back to it.
The book makes a strong case: sharing your technical experience is part of a healthy engineering culture. Even if what you’re doing isn’t groundbreaking, it’s probably still worth writing about. A short post is better than nothing.
I like to think of every note, document, or blog post as a pointer. It saves me (and others) from repeating the same explanations later. Want to know what I think about a design decision, or how to debug some obscure issue? There’s a pointer for that. Writing scales you.
If you can’t explain it clearly, you probably don’t fully understand it. Writing forces you to slow down and clarify the fuzzy parts. You start seeing what’s solid and what’s hand-wavy. You’ll also find yourself doing more research and double-checking your claims. That’s not a burden, it’s a benefit.
The book made a great point: writing in public is a form of free peer review. Programmers love pointing out mistakes, and that’s fine. Feedback makes your thinking sharper. Sharing your thoughts early and often helps you learn faster, and eventually makes you better at reviewing others’ work too.
Writing shows how you think. That’s valuable for hiring, promotions, and your general reputation as an engineer. It shows you can communicate clearly, in blog posts, in design documents, and in the day-to-day of building software with others. You don’t need a big audience. Just a few good artifacts of your thinking can go a long way.
“I don’t have time”: It’s easy to think that, but writing is actually easier when you’re still close to the problem. Wait too long, and the context fades.
“It’s not interesting enough”: I’ve worked on plenty of useful stuff and learned so much, but I’ve often talked myself out of writing about it. I want to change that.
Analysis paralysis: I’ve stared at the blank page more times than I can count. Overthinking every sentence. Giving up.
Writing is a skill. The more you do it, the easier it gets.
You don’t need a perfect idea. You just need to show up and hit publish more often. Even if it’s short. Even if it’s messy. Even if it’s obvious.
This post is my own pointer: just keep writing!
“You don’t need to make it great; you just need to make it exist.”