I learn something new about writing almost every day. Two days ago, I edited a short story I had written nearly ten years ago. Compared to what I write today, my style back then was a mess. I had to polish almost every single sentence just to create a decent flow.

On my YouTube channel, I recently decided to start an Adobe Illustrator playlist titled “Learn Illustrator in 365 Days.” In it, I cover the fundamentals beginners need to know. More than seven years ago, I created a few similar videos. At the time, my English was weak, my pronunciation poor, the audio quality subpar, and my delivery below average. Compared to the videos I can produce now, it almost feels as if someone else made them.

Whenever I discover a new author I like, I usually read through their entire bibliography. Even the big names follow the same pattern. Robert Heinlein is still one of my favorites, but some of his early works feel slow and uneven. Stephen King is similar. Yes, he had an immediate hit with Carrie, but many of his early stories aren’t my cup of tea. Even Lee Child’s early Reacher novels had their ups and downs.

Very few writers hit the mark right away and maintain a consistently high level.

Many start with strong ideas but only decent execution. Great authors learn from that. They develop their style, refine their craft, and generate even better ideas as their skills improve over time.

It seems that the main difference between those who succeed and those who fail is persistence — not giving up and learning from mistakes.

That’s why it makes sense to adopt a “work in progress” mindset for every project we take on.

Right now, I’m experimenting with AI comics again. My first attempt using ChatGPT is almost finished — I should be able to publish it by the end of February. It’s not great. I’d say I achieved maybe 15% of what I originally envisioned. But after this first attempt, I’ll start a second project with everything I learned from my mistakes. And that version will be significantly better.

It’s all a work in progress. And as long as progress leads to improvement, we’re on the right track.

When you work for yourself, the work never truly ends. There is always something else to do — or you can simply double down on what you’re already doing.

I’ve noticed the same pattern with writing stories.

My swipe file has grown to hundreds of story ideas, and whenever I start working on one, five more pop up. There simply isn’t enough time to turn every idea into a book — not even into short story collections.

In general, days only have 24 hours. Nobody can go beyond that.

Once I realized this, I decided to focus on the idea I feel most passionate about right now to work on. If I’m excited about it, chances are the free market might be too.

At the beginning of the year, I had ambitious plans: write 12 books, produce more YouTube videos, finish my short story project, blog daily, read a book a week, and review a movie every month.

It’s impossible.

I have a full-time job, family responsibilities, and I try to fit in workouts every day. For a while, it felt like my days would need 48 hours to get everything done. It became overwhelming.

So I decided to slow down.

My YouTube channel is a passion project I’ve been building for seven years. I’m not going to abandon it anytime soon — I still want to reach 100,000 subscribers one day.

Beyond that, I focus on writing the story I’m most excited about at the moment.

By the end of the year, I will not have 12 new novels finished. But I will have added some good stories to my body of work — and that’s already something to be proud of.

I was never a heavy drinker. But there was a time when I got drunk almost every weekend. Altogether, that phase lasted about half a year during my late high school years — in Germany, that’s around the age of 18 or 19.

Once I finished high school and stopped seeing the group of friends I’d been hanging out with, I stopped drinking altogether. And I never got into it again.

In hindsight, calling them a friend group might be an exaggeration. Most of the guys I spent time with were people from school I used to play basketball, soccer, or video games with. As we got older and developed different interests, I realized how little we actually had in common.

Back in school, we always had something to talk about — classes, teachers, exams, and essays. We complained about teachers and joked about other classmates. But beyond school-related topics, the only thing that held us together was getting drunk on the weekends.

Once I recognized that, I realized I was only drinking because I was with them — as it was the only thing that connected us. Truth be told, I didn’t even like these people very much. And they probably didn’t like me that much either. We just kept hanging out out of habit, a routine that started back in seventh grade out of necessity.

When high school ended, I made a rule for myself: I would only spend time with people I could genuinely enjoy being around while sober.

Granted, my circle of friends has been quite small ever since — but, I like the few people in my life that I call friends and family. And, just like magic, I’ve never felt the urge to drink again.

If you want to cut back on your drinking, my advice would be: take a look at your friend group. Could you enjoy their company sober, or do you need alcohol to get along?

If it’s the latter, maybe it’s time to find a new circle or even life without a circle at all for a while. You’re only getting rid of people that you don’t really like anyway, and you probably get out of the habit of drinking. Two upsides, not a single downside.

I use to-do lists almost every day. I set goals for the year, break them down into milestones, and even make New Year’s resolutions. Sometimes I accomplish my goals and stick to the plan — sometimes I don’t.

Creating a plan and defining goals can be motivating. It helps you give structure and direction to your life. But on some days, it also feels like you’re trapping yourself in a self-imposed rat race.

• Complete my STORY52 short story project
• Write the next novel
• Finish editing my last novel
• Write at least ten tweets
• Publish that blog post
• Do your workout
• And don’t forget the day job tasks and household chores
• …

Reviewing that list every day and crossing things off until the page is empty can make me more productive, yes — but when there isn’t enough time and items remain unchecked, it can also feel like I’ve accomplished nothing. It’s draining and demotivating.

That’s why it makes sense to use the opposite of a to-do list from time to time: a Done List. It reminds you of everything you’ve already worked on and achieved.

In 2025:

• I published my next novel, Forever
• I set up my mailing list, including another published book, Endless, which I give away for free to subscribers
• This blog became a reality — and I’ve already written more than 80 posts
• My YouTube tutorial channel grew to over 10K subscribers
• I’ve gained almost 1K followers on Twitter
• Seven of my short stories are already available on Amazon
• I started two more YouTube channels to document my Author in Progress journey (and yet another one is in the works)

That’s a lot of progress since March 2025, when I decided to take my writing hobby a bit more seriously.

Sure, not everything went as planned. Not every goal was achieved. And I’m far far away from being able to pay any bills with my writing. But the list of accomplishments shows a lot of progress after just over half a year of focused effort.

Create your own Done List. Look back at what you’ve achieved in the past six months — and just imagine what you could do in the next ten years.

I never studied philosophy. I wasn’t interested in it back in school. To me, philosophy always seemed like something pretentious that pseudo-intellectuals did in college while smoking a pipe. My only exposure to what I thought philosophy was, as a teenager, came from watching some stoners get high and wonder whether “getting high” would still be called that if you never came down again.

When I got older, I realized two important things: First, my idea of philosophy wasn’t philosophy. Second, if you don’t take the time to explore and build a real philosophical framework for yourself, someone else will impose theirs on you—without you even realizing it.

The Philosophy of Philosophy

The official definition of philosophy goes like this:

The use of reason in understanding such things as the nature of the real world and existence, the use and limits of knowledge, and the principles of moral judgment.

Doesn’t that sound like something everyone should care about?

The problem is, most people don’t. I didn’t either. But that’s largely because philosophy is often presented the wrong way. It is taught as something abstract, boring, and pseudo-intellectual, pursued by people who’ve never had a “real” job and don’t have to deal with real-world problems.

Yet philosophy is everywhere. It’s in everything we do. It is what we are.

What you eat for breakfast reflects your philosophy. What you wear, read, and watch does too. Whom you vote for. The job you have. The friends you attract. Philosophy shapes how you think and dream—it’s who you are.

And when we don’t take the time to define our own philosophy, we leave space for others to define it for us. They can shape us into what they want us to be—before we ever have the chance to become who we truly want to be.

The First Step: Ask Questions

Most things I do in daily life happen on autopilot—driving, brushing my teeth, eating, even parts of my work. The same goes for many people’s political beliefs, life choices, and everyday conversations. I’m not an exception. Sometimes I say things I haven’t thought through. Sometimes I believe things without knowing where they came from. Sometimes I make choices I can’t fully explain.

My interest in philosophy began when I finally asked myself: Why? Why did I do that? Why did I think that? Why did I believe that?

That’s where philosophy begins—with the question why.

The answer isn’t a complex definition from a dusty college textbook. The answer is what makes life better. Why do you believe that a specific politician deserves your vote? Why do you read that book instead of another? Why do you have these friends? Why do you work at the job that you have?

Most people don’t have answers for these questions. We are simply spoon feed the answers the system wants us to swallow via TV, public schools, colleges, religion, mainstream books, and even our friends and parents.

When we start asking questions again, we can define a philosophy that’s truly our own, not one created by others. Only then can we live the life that we want to live and not the one the system wants for us.