If you’re reading this, it means that this site has successfully moved to DreamHost. I mentioned in a previous post that I had setup a hosting account at an amazingly low price so I could do some development work on the side. One thing led to another, the end of the month was almost upon us, and so Bryan and I migrated about twenty sites in less than two days. Not bad, if I say so myself.

If you notice anything funny with the site, please let me know. While I’m on a roll, on to the next step: upgrading to WordPress 2.0.

The side of the highway held the most amazing spectacle: it started as a random breakdown, nothing crazy, but the rain and mud and fog and sharp curve created something much more devastating.

(site migration in progress, stand by)

Callie got me thinking today. She says that bookstores are her favorite places. Now that I think about it, the library has always been a personal favorite of mine. There’s no pressure to buy anything, and no mob of people coming and going. When I was a kid, I’d ride my bike down to the local branch on weekends, or haunt the school library during lunch and recess.

Childrens’ sections at the public library are cozy and inviting. There are mats on the floor and Maurice Sendak posters everywhere. School libraries are similarly friendly places.

Have you gone into your public library lately, as an adult?

It used to be that I’d rush down to the library when a new book I wanted to read was coming out, and slap a hold on that sucker if it wasn’t there yet. Lately, the first thing I do when a new book comes out is put it on my Amazon wishlist. When someone suggests I get that new book from the library, it’s like they’re asking me why I don’t fly to work. The library has lost its mindshare. And it’s only a block from where I work.

Architecturally, the main branch of the Richland County Public Library (image above) is impressive. Green glass rises four or five stories off the sidewalk on two sides. The building’s interior structure is cantilevered outward — kind of an inverted half pyramid — so that each floor is bigger in area than the one below it. When you look in from the outside, the impression is that of a cutaway diagram. Escalators zigzag up through the large atrium. Concrete, light, industrial carpet, and tall shelves are everywhere.

In short, not the least bit cozy or inviting.

My theory on this is that adults are not supposed to read for enjoyment. We’re all too busy with our jobs and our kids and our hobbies. Someone at work reminded me of a statistic that says that, after graduation, some whopping percentage of Americans never open a book for pleasure again.

So no one much bothers to create a pleasurable reading environment for adults. No, if you go to the library at all, you want to find it, check it out, and go home. Or back to work. You’re not going to spend, say, your whole lunch hour sitting around and reading.

Or would you? If there was a comfy place you could go, close to work, and read awhile (or write or work or listen to music), would you? Would you pay for the privilege?

Laundry was neatly placed in the armoire, the work of a domestic craftsman. It was a toddler’s dream; a place to exercise complete destructive abandon. Within seconds clothes were unfolded and lying everywhere.

“Help! I’m stuck out here in the middle of nowhere and I don’t have a phone.”

“What’s the problem?”

“That doesn’t sound like an emergency to you? How am I supposed to get that call from my sister?”

Boy, did I need to read this last month.

Career coach Cathy Goodwin has ten tips for managing time during a career or other life change.

My favorite quote: “During the crucial stages of a life transition, you need to run on two tracks at once.”

Thanks to Curt at The Occupational Adventure for the link. Just the latest of many useful ideas to be found on his site.

Far too long ago I wrote about setting some goals for my writing career. As we’re all sick of hearing by now, the year 2006 has been discouraging so far. I thought I’d take a fresh look at my goals. Not with the intent of changing them; rather, I’d like to evaluate my progress. If I can correlate small, daily activities with my long-term plans, I’m getting somewhere. If not, I’m misspending my time. So let’s see if I can haul my writing career out of the ditch.

What I’ve Done Right

• Continued work on the AskSpace newsletter, even though momentum on that project is dropping off. I’m not getting paid for it, but I’ve gained a ton of experience writing and editing, and worked with some talented and helpful people.
• Oneword has been a great way to force myself to write something on an almost-regular basis. It’s been my gateway drug; once I’ve spent a minute on it, I’m not quite ready to stop.
• Drafted a writing-centric resume, which I’ll post before long.
• Applied for a couple of left-field writing jobs, which I’ve heard nothing back from. Oh well.
• Signed up for a hosting account, so I can do some open-source web development. Expect this site to move over there eventually.
• Registered a domain to do some independent copy consulting. More on that later.
• Studied Rails (a rapid web development platform — all the cool kids are doing it).

What I’ve Done Wrong

• I took on a side programming project. This seemed a good idea at the time, despite some warning signs: the rate was low (as a favor to a friend); the project was sub-sub-contracted (bureaucratic nightmare); and the platform was ASP.NET (which I swore I would Never Use Again). Once I started on it, “you can work on this at home in the evenings” became “you’ll be working on this every evening, all weekend, and sneaking time on it at work”, which is why I haven’t been posting much. I’m still open to doing side programming projects — the right ones — but in retrospect, this project hasn’t advanced any of my goals. It’s not going to be a gateway to anything I really want to do, and it’s not lucrative enough to free me from my day job.
• I basically quit blogging for six weeks because of the above. If I opened up my PowerBook at home, the little voice said, “Shouldn’t you be working on that web project?”
• I let my Squidoo lens get stale. Once upon a time, it was ranked in the mid 100s. At last report it was down around 2600.
• I haven’t hunted for other opportunities as much as I should. A few emails to local businesses with lousy web copy could have resulted in some easy profit.

What I’ve Learned

I still really want this. It may not show as much, but the passion is still there. Studying Ruby and Rails has caught my interest, and boosted my interest in programming a little — but when I’m not writing, I feel guilty. It’s not a phase after all.

“How can you be so direct and so unassuming at the same time?” he wondered aloud. “No one I’ve ever met makes raw honesty so alluring and so refreshing.”

“I wish I knew.”

My name is Jonathan and I’m a sponge.

I soak up information. I’ve always been known as the guy who reads all the time. As a kid, I’d lie on my bed with an encyclopedia, surfing from one subject to the other. Replace “encyclopedia” with “Web” and you have a good idea how my idle time gets spent during the day.

Last night, a friend commented on my recent lack of output, and asked me how much time I spent reading versus writing.

Stammer. “Um… you mean reading just books, surfing the Web, or what?”

He suggested I shoot for a 50-50 split.

Wow. That’s daunting. Spend as much time squeezing the sponge as soaking it? Should I count TV time as well? You’ve got to be kidding.

Well, eventually the sponge gets full of water and won’t hold any more until it’s squeezed. There’s got to be a lesson there.

So how do I know when the sponge is getting full? Monkey mind is one way. Words bounce around my head and I can’t focus until I let some of them out. Or I start carrying around my notebook and pen, looking for excuses not to use them.

He’s absolutely right. How much time do I spend on input that I could be using for output?

I’ll stick that in my pipe and smoke it the next time I start whinging about not having any time to write.

She winked at the garage attendant. “Take extra-special care of my baby, would you? There’s something in it for you.”

He wondered, as she drove off, what that something was and whether it would’ve been worth skipping the joyride.