I will admit that I am somewhat worried about the blog. Life is constant transition and change, and since I don't write corporate but personal and visionary (not an objective statement, but a claim of purpose) my blog's going to capture all that (either making it fascinatingly easy for future biographers or simply leaving clues behind for my kids to figure out exactly "when Dad snapped!").
I hinted at the problem a while back: columns intrude, stealing my best efforts. And with the Fast Company edit looming and my Esquire beast coming on its heels (the first will appear in the April issue [comes out in March] and the second will--in all likelihood--appear in the May issue [comes out in April]), I consistently find myself killing posts because I want to keep that good line or that bit or that line of reasoning.
But I fear it's more than that (and let me admit here that I am writing under the influence right now, which means last week's sinus infection doubled back into both a sinus and ear and I'm not seeing the doc until 3:30).
First, as I noted before, the sense of gearing up for the book is there, and although I don't expect Vol. III to be as current events-tied as PNM or BFA were (because I want to write a sort of primer for the next generation of grand strategists in my "wide thinker but not widely read" sort of way--meanng my book won't be a grand treatment of all other books on the subject because I got out of grad school 17 years ago), I find myself retreating intellectually: observing more, talking less.
Spending lots of time with Steve DeAngelis encourages this, because Enterra's on such a blitzkrieg track right now (smashing through lines, achieving insane breakthroughs which constantly force regroupings of resources--the usual start-up drill) that the Steve-and-Tom show is very Penn and Teller, meaning Steve does most of the talking and I do most of the facial expressions (yes, I'm too tall to play Teller, but I am pretty funny, you gotta admit). Doesn't mean I'm taking a back seat intellectually to Steve (who's very generous in that way), just that this is how the business drill is working right now: I do most of my talking behind closed doors now, most often with Steve himself. In short, I'm strategizing a lot right now, and it's like that output is reducing my intellectual drive on the blog somewhat, especially when all the other stuff (columns, articles, book) looms in addition.
Getting settled in Indy is probably contributing to this withdrawl as well. Having been on the run so long and for so hard naturally crates a regrouping phenomenon.
So I worry about the blog.
In reality, though, it's counter-intuitive. The blog should go downhill as other things go uphill. Not just the intellectual output, but the career story-telling because I'm increasingly having interactions I can't explore here, as more and more meetings start with the admonition "Don't put this in your blog!" I mean, I don't want to become the professional commentator nor the Kitty Kelly/Bob Woodward-like leak conduit. Those are great functions in their own right, and I'm sure there's a small army of smart people out there striving mightily to achieve those heights, but I'm pretty sure that's not what I want to do.
You know sometimes I feel bad about giving basically the same brief for the last decade or so, even as I swap out all the slides and sometimes, like over the last two weeks, give briefs that are fundamentally different. The process has always been the same: old stuff gets squished up front and new stuff gets added on the end, like a giant sausage factory. But underlying it all are the same questions and just better and better versions of answers over time. The kernel software has never really changed for me, just gotten more robust.
But I think that's the right way for me to go (hell, I have people say they've seen "the brief" six times and it just keeps getting better and better--and they say that with great enthusiasm). I just can't be somebody with a new grand strategic vision every other week, because then I really would be just another op-ed columnist, and I think that would be the death of me.
I think I need to be the Philip Glass type, or the Roy Lichtenstein type, or the Christopher Walken type, or the Jackson Pollack type, or the Laurie Anderson type, or the M. Night Shyamalan type. I need to keep shaping the perfect thing, getting as close to the essence as possible, wherever that takes me and accepting the Zen-like repetition of the work.
I've often thought the blog is very helpful on that score, allowing the repeated attempts at the same task, over and over and over and over again. But if you feel the bouncing rubble phenomenon, is that your fault or the medium's? Cause I feel anything but stale right now, I just find myself operating at different levels that aren't as easily translated here as they were--say--even six months ago.
So maybe the blog, as a career/intellectual function naturally drifts in and out. You know, that happens to creative people all the time: they just get tired of the format. Eno sort of said that. You just need to shift some gears, either to refresh or simply to move on.
Anyway, there it is for now.