Coming home | A Working Library

SOME WEEKS AGO, I quietly shipped a new content type on A Working Library, such that I am now writing short, social-shaped posts on my site and then sending them off to the various platforms. This is not a novel mode of publishing, but rather one borrowed and adapted from the POSSE model (“publish on your site, syndicate elsewhere”) developed by the IndieWeb community. While one of the reasons oft declared for using POSSE is the ability to own your content, I’m less interested in ownership than I am in context. Writing on my own site has very different affordances: I’m not typing into a little box, but writing in a text file. I’m not surrounded by other people’s thinking, but located within my own body of work. As I played with setting this up, I could immediately feel how that would change the kinds of things I would say, and it felt good. Really good. Like putting on a favorite t-shirt, or coming home to my solid, quiet house after a long time away.

— Read on aworkinglibrary.com/writing/coming-home

Literary Hub » Ray Bradbury’s Greatest Writing Advice

What you’ve got to do from this night forward is stuff your head with more different things from various fields . . . I’ll give you a program to follow every night, very simple program. For the next thousand nights, before you go to bed every night, read one short story. That’ll take you ten minutes, 15 minutes. Okay, then read one poem a night from the vast history of poetry. Stay away from most modern poems. It’s crap. It’s not poetry! It’s not poetry. Now if you want to kid yourself and write lines that look like poems, go ahead and do it, but you’ll go nowhere. Read the great poets, go back and read Shakespeare, read Alexander Pope, read Robert Frost. But one poem a night, one short story a night, one essay a night, for the next 1,000 nights. From various fields: archaeology, zoology, biology, all the great philosophers of time, comparing them. Read the essays of Aldous Huxley, read Lauren Eisley, great anthropologist. . . I want you to read essays in every field. On politics, analyzing literature, pick your own. But that means that every night then, before you go to bed, you’re stuffing your head with one poem, one short story, one essay—at the end of a thousand nights, Jesus God, you’ll be full of stuff, won’t you?

— Read on lithub.com/ray-bradburys-greatest-writing-advice/

2025

2025 was rough. Possibly the roughest year to date. Certainly in the top three.

As I’ve been thinking about how to cover 2025, I’ve been mulling over the low points and rough patches throughout, both personally and professionally. But the more I mulled, the more I realized the constant throughout all of this were the blessings in my life.

I’m lucky to have an incredible support structure – family and friends who care and support and put themselves out in such amazing ways when needed. It’s humbling and inspiring.

My wife is my rock, and even as we both navigated some pretty sad moments, being able to be there for her, and knowing she was there for me, was a shining North Star. Our children being old enough to see and experience and understand so much helped them learn some tough real-world lessons, but also made their hugs and support and cheerleading and genuine joy and excitement just stand out at an eleven in so many ways.

Looking back on 2025, yes, I can see a lot of downs and some periods of sadness and uncertainty, but the lasting impression of the year is one of love and support and awareness that we are so very blessed to be able to weather such years and come out stronger in the end.

There are many more years to come, some may very well be as bad (if not worse) than the last. But my resolution is to not fear the future, and instead focus on the good in my life and strive to make sure that is nourished and appreciated.

Here’s to a new year, another year, another chance, and many more blessings to come.

The Lost Art of Research as Leisure – by Mariam – Kasurian

These fears have not been unfounded. Today, we find ourselves in precisely the cultural crisis that Woolf, White, and Sontag anticipated—not a world without books, but a world where fragmented attention and superficial engagement have eroded the foundations of shared meaning and cultural coherence.

The definition of “culture” is as liquid as the phenomenon it seeks to describe. In Princes and Powers, James Baldwin observes that only a culture in crisis would ask for a definition of “culture.”

We are a culture in crisis. We lack, as Byung-Chul Han articulates in The Disappearance of Rituals, the structures and forms that make meaning possible, leading to cultural fragmentation. The result is a sense of civilisational ADHD. A generational restlessness, inattentiveness, and excessive movement in no direction, with insight elusive and ephemeral.

— Read on kasurian.com/p/research-as-leisure

What if Readers Like A.I.-Generated Fiction? | The New Yorker

As a novelist and a journalist covering A.I., I’ve tended to dismiss the threat it poses to authors. I won’t enlist A.I. to write on my behalf for the same reason that I won’t enlist a robot to do other hard stuff—hike a mountain, argue with my husband. But, lately, I’ve been pushing up against the limitations of that logic. I can write a book for my own reasons, but I can sell the book only if readers like it more than what they can get from, say, a chatbot. If readers prefer A.I.-generated fiction, then authors won’t be able to stop it.

— Read on www.newyorker.com/culture/the-weekend-essay/what-if-readers-like-ai-generated-fiction

The Truth Physics Can No Longer Ignore – The Atlantic

Give me a young star, and I can use the reductionist laws of physics to predict that star’s future: It will live a million years rather than a billion years; it will die as a black hole rather than as a white dwarf. But the components of a living organism yield something new and unexpected, a phenomenon called “emergence.” Give me a simple cell from the early days of Earth’s history, and I could never predict that some 4 billion years later it would evolve into a giant rabbit that can punch you in the face. Kangaroos—like humans—are an unpredictable, emergent consequence of life’s evolution.

— Read on www.theatlantic.com/science/2025/12/physics-life-reductionism-complexity/685257/

“I was forced to use AI until the day I was laid off.” Copywriters reveal how AI has decimated their industry

Readers of this series will recognize some recurring themes: The work that client firms are settling for is not better when it’s produced by AI, but it’s cheaper, and deemed “good enough.” Copywriting work has not vanished completely, but has often been degraded to gigs editing client-generated AI output. Wages and rates are in free fall, though some hold out hope that business will realize that a human touch will help them stand out from the avalanche of AI homogeneity.

As for Jacques, he’s relocated to Mexico, where the cost of living is cheaper, while he looks for new work. He’s not optimistic. As he put it, “It’s getting dark out there, man.”

— Read on www.bloodinthemachine.com/p/i-was-forced-to-use-ai-until-the

It’s all trade-offs | Acts of Volition

I find thinking of things as a trade-off helps with post-decision regret. If you made a big decision and it’s not perfect, just remember that this decision had trade-offs, and any other choice would have just had a different set of trade-offs (maybe much worse).

— Read on actsofvolition.com/2025/12/its-all-trade-offs/