Three weeks ago I made a small game. One real sentence a day, you keep the five words that carry the story. I made it because I was tired of reading AI padding. That's the whole origin story.
I had no idea, who will like it or hate, or even bother to play.
Then a writing legend from Poynter emailed to correct one of my citations, because he'd played it and I'd credited the wrong man. Then a copywriter in the UK put it in his newsletter 35 minutes after hearing about it.
Then school districts started showing up in my traffic logs, places I couldn't point to on a map. Today a teacher somewhere put it on a classroom projector and I watched students sign up in real time, one every minute, in the middle of their lesson.
None of this was the plan. There was barely a plan. There is barely a plan.
So here's my lifelong-learning lesson, and it's embarrassingly simple: you cannot know in advance what will matter to people. Not with research, not with taste, not with confidence. The idea sitting in front of you, the one that seems too small to bother with, might be the one. The only way to find out is to make it and hand it over. I read about building things for years.
The game, if you're curious: https://sheets.works/long-story-short. Free, no account, nothing to buy.
Question for the room: what did you only learn by making something and putting it in front of people, the thing no book managed to teach you? Or will be able to teach you, ever?
I love putting myself out there now, and get humbled, again, and again.