By the 46th episode

I didn’t get to see it in theaters, but the family and I finally got to stream the newest Ghostbusters movies last weekend. I’ve been a fan of the franchise since catching reruns of The Real Ghostbusters when I was a kid. I still enjoy the early movies, The Extreme Ghostbusters reboot series, and I even liked the 2016 take on the movie, whatever the critics said.

There was a bit in Ghostbusters: Afterlife that really stuck with me. A supporting character going by the name of Podcast mentions he hosts a conspiracy-theory sci-fi podcast (get it?) that doesn’t get a bunch of listeners, but “really finds its voice in Episode 46.” It’s paid off later much to Podcast’s delight, which is how I’d like to imagine I’d react if someone knew me from my work.

Funny enough, people have told me they’ve seen my work, namely my blog posts. It’s happened a couple of times, much to my surprise. However, instead of delight, the feeling I got was pure apprehension. What did they think of it? Was it too short? Did it actually convey anything useful? Did I sound like someone else? Did my Anthony Bourdain fanboy rear its ugly head again? No, what did they really think of it? What about in this particular paradigm, angle, and context, how about now? Okay, for real though, why didn’t they saying it was actually bad?

It’s this nerve and anxiety that’s held me back from drafting a lot of my ideas, let alone posting or publishing them. Fun fact, I’ve even chickened out of a small book deal because of this kind of self-talk. I could be swimming in likely tens of dollars from my split as the author of the definitive manual about Vue 3 and the composition API! Tens of dollars!

In all seriousness, this kind of doubt is also what keeps me from pursuing other endeavors. I’ve plied my trade as a web developer and software engineer for more than eight years now, but mainly full-time for companies. That contrasts wildly from the people in this industry I really admire, those that follow the Indie Hacker ethos, that build for themselves and make a living through their passions, that stream all day while building a business and brand that lets them live on their terms. Sure, I’ve got guaranteed health insurance and RSUs, but if my employer goes under or lays me off, being able to build like these people could save my family’s bacon and bank accounts.

So, eight years in, I’m deciding now is as good a time as any to start figuring it out. I’m still working a 9-to-5, but I’m at least going to start working towards a business, a brand, something I can call my own. Hence why I applied to get into DiscoLink Club. Their Discord server is full of hackers, entrepreneurs, creators, and builders either trying to improve the outcome of their businesses, or trying to get started building their own.

I’ve only been a part of it for a few days, and I can tell Saron Yitbarek has built something really special here. I’ve had the pleasure of learning about content creation from Scott Hanselman, got some great advice and coaching from Ryan Cox, and I’m getting a lot of encouragement from people who have been in the same place I am now. In fact, another member of the DiscoLink Club, Jono Yeong, suggested I try a 30-day posting challenge to get over this nervousness about how “worthy” my writing is. That’s why you’re seeing this post today.

What I’ll be writing about over the next 30 days, 30 posts, or however long is going to be a bit up in the air. It will likely involve some JavaScript, some thoughts on the tech industry, maybe even a bit about cooking, who knows? I’m just hoping that by the end, I can be a little bit more like Podcast, build some neat things that I can turn into something neater, and find my voice some time in between.