Writers Block

What I learned from Version 1.0, plus Version 2.0 :)

A few weeks ago I wrote about Accountability as a Service and why I believe there’s an accelerating need for it in our modern life and work environments. I often write about topics related to my own life and work and realizations, and this theory was one of them.

I had just started an experiment called Writers Block — a new kind of writing group for people like me who want to write more regularly, get quality feedback, and get some relief from the isolation of writing. The experiment's name plays on the concept of writers feeling "blocked" and also refers to a "block" as a space for writers, like in a block party.

I wrapped up version 1.0 of the 4-week experiment a few days ago, have reflected a bit on the good, bad, and unknown, and wanted to share a few lessons below.

Not to bury the lede, but version 1.0 was compelling enough that I’m doing a version 2.0. I’m changing up a few things of course, but it’s still limited in terms of the group size and scope. If you’re curious, find details and a short form below.

Before I get to the lessons, let me share some V1 stats for added context:

• I put out one tweet about the experiment and had around 120 people reach out with interest in joining, of which ~90 people filled out the form I shared.

• About 25 writers participated in the first experiment group. Instead of aiming for a specific group size, we selected people for cross-relevance, quality, and serious intent to create a good experience (with some intentional variance).

• During the 4-week experiment, we had ~50 essay drafts submitted by the participants, and ~140 pieces of feedback given across these essays.

• 11 people shared published essays within the 4 weeks (this was optional). One essay was shared on Hacker News and hit #1 (which was a cool moment).

“Writer’s Block” is an inertia problem.

Newton’s First Law of Motion states that "an object at rest will remain at rest, and an object in motion will continue in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an external force." This is also known as the law of inertia.

The same holds in writing. A person who doesn’t write will remain someone who doesn’t write, and a person who writes will continue writing (unless something major changes). For many people, Writers Block seemed to serve as that external force.

Many people had written before but had fallen out of the habit of late. They wanted Writers Block to help them jumpstart their habit again, and with peer support. On this measure, I’d call this experiment a big success.

However, this opened up a question: is this primarily valuable as a one-time or periodic jumpstart (several people gave feedback that this helped unblocked them) or as an ongoing experience (several people wanted to continue doing it)?

Mimesis is a strong motivator.

It’s easy to see the final product and the outcomes of good writers and feel so distant from it. It’s like seeing someone walking down the street looking jacked and just imagining a crazy workout routine they’re following that you never could.

On the other hand, getting a peek behind the curtain — seeing the drafts that writers cycle through or the reps that the fittest people in the world put in at the gym can demystify things. It can give you a sense of the small steps everyone has to take to get the big outcomes that otherwise seem enigmatic and unattainable.

Arguably the most valuable aspect of Writers Block was getting to regularly see new drafts from writers. Getting yourself to go to the gym is hard, but once you’re there seeing other people work out, it doesn’t take much for you to start too. People are mimetic creatures, especially when driven by a goal.

The question that came up here (to continue the gym metaphor) is this: how important is it that the starting point and the kinds of exercises being done are similar across the board? How “similar” do writers in the group need to be?

From V1, I concluded that people need to be at most 1-2 degrees of separation away in terms of topic, style, and experience (but 0 degrees isn’t great either).

Giving & reading feedback improves writing.

Everyone says that reading and writing more makes you better at writing; I agree with this so strongly that I wasn’t even testing this. I was more curious to see how valuable it is to give feedback and to read feedback on others’ essays.

I gave feedback on every essay draft that was submitted during the experiment. Other participants were suggested to give feedback on two essay drafts for each essay they shared with the group. The 2:1 ratio isn’t so important as the focus on contribution rather than consumption-only.

Many people reflected that the process of giving feedback and even reading feedback on others’ essays sharpened their own writing skills. And I noticed this myself: after sharing a constructive critique, I was much more attuned to noticing the same issues in my own drafts.

The lingering questions here: Are people willing to put in time to give other people feedback? How valuable is feedback initially versus ongoing? And how much does the author of the feedback matter? In other words, the “give-to-get” mechanic works but is it a viscerally positive, sustainable model?

Figuring out the model.

In addition to the questions I posed above, there were a few pragmatic ones that kept coming up with regards to the structure of the experiment.

• While many people are willing to pay, it’s not clear yet which part of the experience they’re most willing to pay for: the social dynamic, the feedback, the deadlines, the accountability of having money on the line, etc.

• There’s also a question of how much people are willing to pay and for how long. The $100 for the experiment was something that felt accessible yet still filtered for commitment. Given the time it took to not only build and run the experiment (along with my studio co-founder’s time) but also to participate as a writer and primary feedback-giver, it wasn’t an opportunity-cost efficient.

• There’s a big range of timespans and price points that I’ve seen writing-based experiences and products settle on. Some are fully async, single-player, and run continuously. Some are cohort-based and run for a few weeks or months. Many are “courses,” whereas I didn’t want this to be one. And the price points I’ve seen range from low hundreds to a few thousands.

All these potential permutations are hard to parse, and each has its own likelihood of scaling time- and cost-efficiently. Ultimately, I also have to decide which version I could be passionate enough about to continue doing.

With all this said, version 1.0 was still promising enough to warrant a version 2.0. The goal will be to leverage all the non-scalable effort that’s already been put in, along with some changes, to better answer the 5-6 questions I’ve laid out here.

I hope it was at least a little fun to get a glimpse into the experiment; I’ll likely share more on the other side of V2. If you're interested in joining, learn more here.