What does making something in public for years actually take?

I’ve been blogging since 2011. Movers Mindset started 2015. Open + Curious in 2024 with a different shape. Podtalk started in there too. Each project has its own arc, and it’s own specific thing that draws me to keep creating. After all this time, I can now see there’s a question I never paid attention to which lies underneath all of them: What does it take to keep making something in public, for years?

The pieces below are about the practice of showing up — what permission feels like, what resistance is, how cumulative invisible work pays off, and what “uphill” writing means. A couple are distilled from Podtalk conversations with people who arrived at hard truths and put them into words. This thread is sequenced for someone who’s making something in public and wondering how to keep at it without burning out, quitting, or going sideways into something they didn’t set out to do.

Permission to continue
7 for Sunday — March 2025

Open with the inheritance. Someone who modeled the practice for me dies, and I realized the permission they gave wasn’t theirs to give. I already had it. Jack London’s club it — go after what you want with force — turns out to be the most generous instruction possible, because it gives you permission to commit even when the outcome is uncertain.

Sit down
constantine.name — November 2024

The Pressfield line that does the most work for me: “It’s not the writing that’s hard. What’s hard is sitting down to write. What keeps us from sitting down is resistance.” Cling to that for everything you’re trying to keep making — it’s not the doing that’s hard. It’s the showing up that’s hard. Really hard.

The illogical thing
Podtalk Field Note — with Cassian Bellino

Cassian got laid off and immediately built everything nobody asked for — courses, communities, funnels. By any reasonable measure it was a mistake. But: “my emotions wouldn’t have settled had I tried the logical thing.” Sometimes what in hindsight is clearly the wrong path, is actually the only way to reach the destination, and the flailing is how some creators process toward clarity.

Bifocals
constantine.name — January 2026

My bifocal attention: solving today’s problem while simultaneously noticing the friction I can’t leave alone. I’ll stop in the middle of the task to write the script, the alias, the doc, the template — not because I’m procrastinating but because that is the real work. The payoff is cumulative and mostly invisible, which is what makes it hard to commit to.

100 issues of my “7 for Sunday” email
constantine.name — August 2024

At the 100-issue mark of 7 for Sunday — three years of weekly issues — what mattered wasn’t the number. It was that I’d kept going through stretches when simply knowing that readers existed was what got me through. The life preserver that saves you is necessarily thrown by another. External validation isn’t ideal, but sometimes it’s what keeps you in the boat.

Writing uphill
7 for Sunday — December 2024

Downhill writing is what you want to say; uphill writing is what you need to say — the thing you’re afraid of, the thing you think nobody wants to hear. The best writing is almost always uphill. The discomfort is usually the sign you’re onto something real.

When a Podcast Is Finished
Podtalk Field Note — with Alasdair Plambeck

Closing on the hardest part: knowing when to stop. Not failed, not abandoned — finished. Alasdair ended his podcast after four-and-a-half years because the work was complete. The skill isn’t just keeping going; it’s also recognizing when keeping going has quietly become a different act than what you set out to do.

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What does picking one word a year teach you?

In 2012 I picked the phrase will-power and self-possession as a kind of anchor — something to keep in front of me through the year. (I literally wrote it on a card and stuck on the wall above my desk. For a year.) I didn’t know I was starting a practice. In 2015 I chose simplify. I’ve now been picking one word or short phrase a year for thirteen years, and the cumulative practice has become as interesting as each year’s choice.

This thread is a path through what that practice has actually been like — what made certain words land, the year-end reflection ritual that grew up around it, and what I’ve noticed across the arc. It’s about the practice, not the words. Follow this thread if you’re wondering what a small annual ritual can do over a long enough timeline.

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Look straight at the perfectionism

Ask yourself what perfect looks like. What are the specific elements? What’s on the checklist?

Procrustes will never have an answer to this question, but always a response along the lines of “I’ll know it when I see it.” That’s not good enough. He has no idea what perfection means! He’s exposed. He cannot meet his own standards. He’s in his bed. You know what to do. Grab your creative tools and get to work.

~ Boston Blake, from Perfectionism

I’ve long agreed with the sentiment that “I’ll know it when I see it” is bullshit. I’ve long thought that was because if one doesn’t know “what it should look like” then one doesn’t actually understand whatever it is we’re talking about judging. My thinking was focused on identifying whether or not I (or whomever) was capable of judging.

But this insight from Blake got me thinking about a more fundamental layer of judgement: If I (or whomever) is not capable of judging (as evidenced by espoused sheep dip like “I’ll know it when I see it”) then I shouldn’t even be involved in the judging. Which is also a powerful way to banish my own internal critic.

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Between transitions

Each transition might be random, but what goes on between transitions is far from it: it’s all designed to interest you, to be pleasant or “nice” in some way, and sometimes even to become addictive.

~ Marco Giancotti, from Presenting Visual Koans

Just an interesting dive into what happens when you give your brain more opportunities to make connections among ideas.

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The Practice of Sitting With Your Thinking

Reflection is fuzzier than the other practices. It’s something I didn’t realize I needed until I was already doing it.

Find a comfortable spot. Your favorite chair, a quiet cafe, outside with a cup of tea. Somewhere you can settle in and read without rushing.

Start by writing on today’s page: “Reflecting.” Just a note that this is what you’re doing.

Then work backwards through recent pages. Look at yesterday, the day before, the week before. The most recent pages often have thoughts you started but didn’t finish, questions you wrote down and forgot about, patterns you didn’t notice day-to-day.

What you’ll notice:

How much you’ve accomplished. You can actually see it. The progress is visible in a way it rarely is when everything stays in your head.

What you’re stuck on. Things you keep writing about but not resolving. Problems that keep coming up.

Patterns in your thinking. The kinds of ideas you’re having. Topics that keep pulling your attention.

Ideas waiting to be connected. Sometimes you’ll see three separate entries that are actually related, and a new idea emerges.

Most people don’t have a record of their actual thinking. The notebook gives you something rare: evidence of what you’ve actually been working through.

Reflection is how you learn from that evidence.

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This is part of a series about Hand-Write. Think Better.—a method for people who feel overwhelmed to start simply writing more on paper. Get the book →


The act of creation

Because what makes anyone’s work worth having isn’t the ability to recognise quality in what already exists – it’s what they generate themselves. How their mind moves. What they reach for before anyone else knows it’s there. The idea that forms before it becomes a thing anyone can judge. That’s what’s always been of value. But it’s something we rarely, if ever, examine.

~ Zoe Scaman, from The Whetstone

This would also be what would be of value from a cogitant. It’s not “how” the trick is done, it’s the effect… the outcome that matters.

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Fasting

A Six-Part Series and Getting Started

This collection brings together a six-part series exploring the science of fasting alongside a practical guide to getting started with 16:8 intermittent fasting.

The series begins by questioning long-held assumptions about meal timing and examines what actually happens in the body during a fast — from the metabolic switch to fat burning, through autophagy and cellular repair, to hormonal changes, immune renewal, and the neurological effects that fasting practitioners often report as mental clarity. Each installment weighs the research honestly, distinguishing strong evidence from speculation and noting where the science is still
catching up to the claims.

The final piece shifts from understanding to doing, offering a stepped approach to building a 16-hour fasting practice, drawing on personal experience rather than theory.

I’ve been doing 16:8 intermittent fasting for years and recently started 48-hour fasts — dropping about three pounds each fast, gaining one or two back, and trending steadily downward. I wanted to understand what the research actually says about what I’m doing to myself, so I worked with Claude (Anthropic’s AI) to produce this series. I set the structure, chose the topics, pushed back on claims that felt hand-wavy, and guided the editorial tone. Claude did the writing and research synthesis. My curiosity driving Claude’s research and prose.

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Plant Now, Harvest Later

You don’t realize you need an idea garden until you’re using one.

Most people have good ideas throughout the day but don’t capture them because they know those ideas could grow into big projects—and they’re not ready to commit to that right now.

The notebook lets you plant those seeds without committing to anything.

When you write something and think “oh, that’s a good idea”—that’s your signal. Write it down. Sometimes just a few words is enough. Mark it with a star in the margin and flag it with a sticky note.

Now when your notebook is closed, you can see where your ideas are parked.

Eventually, one of three things happens:

You do it. Remove the flag, mark it done with a page reference to where you executed it.

You decide against it. Strike it out, note why.

You forget about it. The flag sits there for months. That’s fine. When you notice it later, you can decide then.

You’re separating “having an idea” from “committing to an idea.” You can capture everything without feeling overwhelmed by everything. The ideas are there when you’re ready for them, marked and findable, but not demanding immediate action.

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This is part of a series about Hand-Write. Think Better.—a method for using paper to think more clearly. Get the book →


Time-Restricted Eating as an Adjunct to Radiotherapy and Androgen Deprivation Therapy in Prostate Cancer

Clinical Evidence Brief
Current state of evidence — preclinical, clinical, and investigational
Prepared March 2026

Proposed mechanisms

The biological rationale for combining dietary restriction with radiotherapy centers on the differential stress response.[1] Under conditions of nutrient deprivation, normal cells activate conserved protective pathways — reducing metabolic activity, upregulating stress resistance, and entering a quiescent state. Cancer cells, whose oncogenic mutations constitutively activate RAS, AKT, and mTOR signaling, are largely unable to make this shift; they remain metabolically active and, as a consequence, more vulnerable to radiation-induced damage. Concurrently, normal tissue is relatively protected — a divergence that forms the basis for combining fasting with radiotherapy.

The interaction between dietary restriction and androgen deprivation therapy (ADT) works through different mechanisms that depend on the class of ADT used, as described below. Separately, dietary restriction may also help counteract the metabolic side effects of ADT itself.

Time-restricted eating (TRE) — typically a 16:8 fasting-to-eating window — is among the more clinically feasible implementations of dietary restriction during active treatment, avoiding the weight loss and nutritional risk associated with sustained caloric restriction.[2] Transitioning from typical Western eating patterns to a sustained 16:8 window requires deliberate on-ramping; the author has written separately on a structured approach to this transition.[3]

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Getting started with 16-hour fasting

This post is about ways to incrementally change when you are eating, to shift yourself from how you are eating today, to a particular time-pattern of fasting called 16:8 (pronounced “sixteen eight”.) 16:8 means every day you have a 16-hour fast (the “not eating” window,) and then an 8-hour eating window.

I’m going to start by assuming you already want to begin fasting. I’ve written more generally about fasting if you’d prefer to start with WHY you might want to try being more intentional about when you choose to eat.

Putting yourself into “intentional” mode

You SHOULD discuss your fasting with your primary care physician. Ask them what you should be aware of, or how it may affect you—they know the specifics of your body. You will discover they actually know all about fasting and diet. If you are proactively engaged in your own welfare, your physician will be happy to be a font of useful information.

For example: My primary care doctor is well aware of the beneficial effects of diet, exercise and fasting on my cholesterol markers. They are also convinced that my lifestyle changes will not be able to sufficiently improve those markers quickly enough. Thus, our discussions and my choices continue.

(And—yikes!—if your physician isn’t helpful, knowledgeable, and open to discussion, you should find a better physician.)

Fasting is about WHEN you eat

Fasting is easy to understand: It’s about WHEN you eat. Whether we use the word fasting, intermittent fasting (IF), or time restricted eating (TRE), we’re simply referring to when you eat versus when you don’t eat.

Fasting—here, and whenever I talk about it—is not about depriving yourself, nor about starvation or suffering. It is SIMPLY being intentional about WHEN you CHOOSE to eat.

I know, I know… 16 hours without eating probably sounds like a crazy-long time to not eat. But as I said at the top, I’m assuming you are motivated to try this.

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