Get Fast Before Getting Good


Recently I read an article where the author stressed quality over quantity. Although, in principle, I agree with him, I am in the “quantity” camp. However, I can say from experience that quality comes with quantity.

Before I go any further, let me reiterate the story that illustrated the importance of quantity over quality for those who haven’t encountered it yet.

A ceramics teacher announced on the opening day that he was dividing the class into two groups. “All those on the left side of the studio,” he said, “would be graded solely on the quantity of work they produced, all those on the right solely on its quality.”

His procedure was simple: on the final day of class, he would bring in his bathroom scales and weigh the work of the “quantity” group: fifty pound of pots rated an “A”, forty pounds a “B”, and so on. 

Those being graded on “quality”, however, needed to produce only one pot — albeit a perfect one — to get an “A”.

Well, came grading time and a curious fact emerged: the works of highest quality were all produced by the group being graded for quantity. It seemed that while the “quantity” group was busily churning out piles of work — and learning from their mistakes — the “quality” group had sat theorizing about perfection, and in the end had little more to show for their efforts than grandiose theories and a pile of dead clay. — David Bayles and Ted Orland, Art & Fear

This is what I have found with my own work. Since I have started concentrating on quantity, writing an ‘X’ number of articles in a week rather than a ‘Y’ number of excellent articles in a month, I am getting better and better.

It is a different matter that you don’t want to “practice in public” and only want to publish your best article, but believe me, that will be a limiting strategy.


Recently I have started sponsoring to another view.

Initially, we can’t become good, even if we want to.

When we start writing, we are like toddlers learning to walk. A toddler can’t walk fast even if he wants to. So he concentrates on putting one foot over another. Once he learns that, he starts to run. He doesn’t worry about getting his feet on the ground properly; he just dashes ahead, even at the cost of falling on his bum.

Like a toddler, my goal is to get faster at something before I get better. 

It used to take me seven to eight hours to write an article. Now I can write the same article in three to four hours. My goal is to get it down to one hour.

Once I can write an article in one hour, I can concentrate on how to balance it. How to introduce humor in it. How to end it properly. How to write compelling headlines. 


Before getting faster, I concentrated on getting consistent. 

I used to write a diary, just on the weekend. Then, a few years ago, I started writing a page a day. It was a big commitment initially. I would miss days, sometimes weeks, particularly when I was traveling. So now, whenever I am traveling, I take my diary with me. Each morning that is the first thing I do. Write a page in my A5 diary. It has become such a habit that even if I want to break it, I can’t.

Following that, I started a 100 days challenge. I started writing a short article on social media. I did it for 100 days consecutively. I missed two days in the whole period, but I was euphoric. I can do it. 

It took an hour and a half initially. Soon I was able to reduce the whole thing to just ten to fifteen minutes. It included writing and posting on three platforms (Facebook, LinkedIn, and Instagram). Now I can do it in less than ten minutes. 

I am posting manually on each platform. I intentionally don’t use any software to schedule posting. Because posting manually allows me to check other people’s posts, leave them comments, and respond to comments on my own posts. 


Once I got consistent in writing and posting daily, I set my eyes on bigger goals.

Following the success of posting small articles, I set myself a challenge to write 100 Articles in 100 Days

Previous to that, I was writing one to two articles a week. On average, it was taking me seven to eight hours over different days to write one article. I am on day 22 today, and already I’m taking less than three hours. 

A lot of it is planning; I select images in one sitting, do the footer for many articles in advance, and spend five minutes to outline as soon as an idea comes to me. 

When it comes to writing, I write in 15 minutes sprints with an actual timer. 

Earlier I used to edit as I wrote, not anymore. I’m now writing in a flow state, leaving the editing for another day. Usually, on the day I’m going to publish. That gives me time to rest the article and let new ideas germinate to make that article even more interesting. 

I see myself as a two-year-old.

I only started blogging two years ago, so I can consider myself a two-year-old in the blogging world where some writers have been writing for seven to ten years. 

It doesn’t matter how much I want; I cannot be as good as a seven-year-old or a ten-year-old writer. But if I can write faster, I can write more articles in a week and a month (and eventually in a year). Then there is a good chance of catching up. 

That is why in this 100-day challenge, I’m not aiming to publish in big publications. Instead, my aim is not to break the streak and get faster and faster. 

I publish daily on my profile and then submit them to a publication that accepts pre-published articles. When I have reduced my article writing time to under one hour, I will concentrate on getting good. 

Already I’m writing two articles a day, one for the same day and one for next week. So if there is something unexpected happens, I have to travel, or visitors drop in unannounced, I have an article scheduled for that day. Scheduling is a great way to ensure consistency. 

I have not reached Tim Denning’s stage to write five articles a day, but I’m sure if I continue following this strategy, in not so distant future, I will be able to replicate his method of writing. Tim writes a week’s worth of articles in two days. That is a big ask. 

To Sum Up

Whatever skill you are learning, try to get fast at it before getting good. 

I have been doing the same with my paintings and sketching and receiving similar results. 

Finishing a thing earlier means you have more time for yourself. And who doesn’t need more time these days?

I Have Banned Myself From Buying Any More Online Courses


Twenty-twenty was a great year for online learning. So, with no travel plans to disrupt, I went on a big spree to buy online courses. I am sure many people did the same, as content writers, coaches, and nonfiction-writers all show a big spike in their earnings since the pandemic hit last year. 

There were many reasons for me to go on this spree. First, I was new to online learning. Second, I wanted to gobble up everything and level up with the established writers as quickly as possible.

I also fell prey to online selling, which has a “buy-now-or-you-will-miss-out” business model. 

The result — I have several courses that I haven’t gone through beyond the first few lessons. 

With the internet, we have access to thousands of courses, webinars, summits, reports, books at meager prices. Yet, most of us find it hard to gain skills. Often it is not for want of application. Some of us may be easily distracted, but others are dedicated.

Here is what I learned from my course buying spree.


Not all courses are created equal.

Most courses are seminar-style, where the presenter provides the information and doesn’t teach any skill. 

Other ones are summit kind where several well-meaning presenters give their views (often contradicting) on the same topic. Of course, not all of the information is relevant to your scenario, but you don’t know that until you listen to it. 

Generally, I rate workshops above the seminars and summit. This is because, at workshops, you are putting into practice whatever you are learning immediately. In my mind, it is the best way to learn.

We are all time-poor. And we are bombarded with information. Unless we put the new knowledge into practice straight away, it will be forgotten or, worse still, replaced by thousand other things demanding our attention.


A big price tag doesn’t mean it will be a better course.

I have bought less than $100, and I have bought courses that cost much more than $1000. What I have discovered that ten times more fee doesn’t mean ten times more value. 

Many times we pay for the brand name.

Some presenters have built themselves a big following that they can charge whatever they like for the courses. Add to that scarcity factor and spot- specials, and you have a winning formula.

Many Udemy courses have the same information at a fraction of a price. Also, many platforms come with free courses. I was pleasantly surprised when I joined Convertkit. It has a well-structured course and an excellent program to teach all you need to know about online marketing and newsletter building.


Buying a course doesn’t mean you will acquire the skill.

Writing articles, building an audience, marketing on social media are all skills. When we buy a course, we think we are acquiring these skills. Instead, what we get is a load of information. 

Acquiring skills needs work on our part. It needs commitment, time, and patience. And it needs practice. When buying a course, you need to make sure you have the time and commitment to practice what the course teaches. Otherwise, you will be buying something that will sit on your computer, and after a few months, you will even forget you bought it.

Don’t get lured by the “special price.” Online course presenters need to sell their courses. So they will be coming with specials all the time. Take your time to buy the course — which is when you are ready to implement it.


Online courses can never replace the face to face courses.

This weekend I attended the first face-to-face workshop since the pandemic hit last year, and boy did I find the difference. 

First of all, I got to get out of the home. Getting out of the home meant I got out of the hassles associated with it. I didn’t have to run a load of washing while I was listening to the audios. Neither did I have to worry about cooking lunch or getting the dinner underway. No vacuuming to fit in between breaks and no answering the doorbell or phone calls. 

I had the luxury to immerse myself in learning. I could fully engage with the tutor. I could ask questions, and got direct feedback instantly while doing the exercises. 

Of course, I could have learned the same thing on YouTube from the convenience of my home. I would have saved the driving time and course fee, but I wouldn’t have learned the skill either. Not as quickly as I did in the workshop. And with much less frustration.

Not to mention learning from the other participants. Each one of us interpreted the instructions differently. Learning from them provided another layer of understanding.

I am not discounting online courses completely. They have their merits, and I envision myself buying many more in the future. But I think both online and live courses are needed.

What I am raising here is our tendency to buy courses as if we are buying commodities. However, just buying courses doesn’t mean we can buy the skill they are promising to teach.


My strategy to go through previous courses (and the future ones).

I have decided not to buy any more online courses this year. 

I am going to go through all the previous courses for the remainder of the year. 

Some of them are sitting there because I was not ready for the skills they were teaching me when I bought them. Others were too long. One course had 80 hours of videos. Even if I watch for two hours a day, every day, it will take me 40 days to finish it. 

But I am going to finish it. 

How? 

Rather than watching it slowly and taking notes, I will go through them in one go. It is the same strategy I use while reading a book that I want to consume to gain information. Even quick listening helps absorb many facts.

Once I have gone through the course, I will have a good idea, what modules I want to watch again. Now will be the time to make notes. I will also be marking the modules that I should watch again, say in six months. 

Going over a course in several iterations has the added benefit of repetition. We don’t learn much the first time we encounter anything. It is by repetition we cement the lessons we learn. Every time we listen to the same information, it presents a different meaning. 

To finish my rant

This is my plan to finish the courses I have already bought. 

I would like to know what is yours. 

Photo by Le Wagon on Unsplash

A Christmas Wish (Fiction – Microstory)

Jim is planning to make a dash for it tomorrow. He has asked me to join him.

‘We will leave through the small door on the side after dinner. No one will notice. Not for a long time,’ he says.

I am not so confident. The price of getting caught is too high. Besides, where will we go? Jim has thought of that too. We are to head straight to the station to catch the next train to the last stop. He even has money for the fare, the source of which I am not aware of, but I dare not ask.

Neither one of us sleeps that night. The nights are the scariest. They are cold and dark. And there are always cries. We hold our breaths and pray.

In the morning, we do our chores with little more diligence than usual so that we don’t get in trouble for making a mistake. I want to take Walter with me but Jim doesn’t think it is a good idea.

When the time comes, Jim and I inch slowly to the back wall. We have a lot of practice in becoming invisible. As Jim had foreseen, getting to the gate without being seen, is not difficult. Within minutes we are on the street but which way is the train station. A tram stops nearby and we climb in. Further away we are more chance of not being caught. We read the street signs and figure out the tram is going towards the city. Jim knows the grand station is in the city. We are heading in the right direction.

The streets in the city are decorated with Christmas lights. We pass a giant Christmas tree in the city square decorated with colored balls, lights, and tinsel. Outside the station, a choir is singing Christmas carols. Their melody is soothing and reassuring. Everything will be alright now. We get off the tram and blend with people. There are people everywhere.

At the station, we stand in the queue to buy tickets. The clerk looks at us suspiciously, especially when Jim can’t tell him where we are going. The train arrives and as we are about to board, two policemen appear from the crowd.

‘Where do you think you two are going, you little bastards?’

I do not remember much of what happened afterward that other than that year I made my Christmas wish for the first time.

Dear Lord, when I sleep tonight please make sure I don’t wake up.

I have been making the same wish each year for the past forty years.

© Neera Mahajan, January 2014

Photo by Johny vino on Unsplash

Why I Want To Write Fiction In 2021

Not so long ago, I was reading an article on Barbara Cartland. It was a feature article going through the life story of the novelist who had written more than 700 romance novels during seven decades, making her undisputed queen of a genre.

I still remember a photo the article included. Dressed in a pink gown on a pink bed, ninety-two years old was dictating her next novel to her assistant.

I went, “Wow! This is what I want to do in my old age. Write stories.”

The average life expectancy in Australia is 83 years. By the time I am going to reach my eighties, it will be 93 years. We all need to plan how we will occupy ourselves for three decades after we retire from paid workforce.

You can only do a limited number of things in your eighties — you can watch TV, walk your poodle, do crossword puzzles, read books. Or you can tell stories.

I am choosing to tell stories. 

Now, you can tell stories from your life (which most old people do and they are dead right boring), or you can fictionalize them (which gets the message across in an interesting way).

Fiction is more effective than non-fiction. Here is why.


Non-fiction is straightforward. 

It helps the reader solve a problem, accomplish a task, or help them learn something new. Its message is clear, concise, and direct. It also has a short shelf life.

Fiction, on the other hand, is eternal. Fairy tales are centuries old. I bet you still remember the fairy tales you heard when you were a child. Religions use stories too. Parables do what scriptures can’t.

Humans have unsatiable hunger for stories. Even as adults, we crave stories as much as we did when we were children.

“Nonfiction reveals the lies, but only metaphor can reveal the truth.” — Ms Forna

Non-fiction appeals to our logic, but fiction touches our hearts.


Stories are how we communicate. 

Ever since language has been invented, we have been weaving our hopes, messages, reflections, and insights into stories.

When we read stories, we get to know the characters’ inner lives, which makes us reflect on our own lives. We get drawn into their world. Their troubles become ours. We share their laughter and their tears and walk with them as they muddle along in their journeys.

That is the magic of stories. They help us improve our ability to identify and understand other people’s emotions. They equip us to negotiate complex social relationships in the real world with greater skill.

“Fiction’s about what it is to be a fucking human being…I just think that fiction that isn’t exploring what it means to be human today isn’t good art.” — David Foster Wallace


Fiction helps us connect to our humanity.

Research shows that reading fiction makes us more empathetic. Psychologists at the New School for Social Research, New York, say that reading literary fiction makes us better people.

Fiction is essential to the survival of the human race because it helps us to slip into “the other’s” skin. It builds tolerance because it gives us an opportunity to see the world from different perspectives. It is a shining beacon of hope in an increasingly intolerant world.

Fiction also has the power to instill a sense of wonder in us. Stories can take us to magical places. They jolt us awake when we slip into the rut of the mundane. They liberate us by giving free rein to our imagination. This is not to discount fiction as an escape hatch from reality. — Vineetha Mokkil 

A good story gives us a better understanding of ourselves, others, and our society by drawing us into the world created by the writer.

I don’t think there is a better way for a writer to serve humanity than to write fiction.


I have started publishing short stories.

Writing fiction is much harder than writing non-fiction for the obvious reason. You need to imagine a lot — the characters, the plot, the structure, the dialogue, the emotions. But that makes fiction more attractive to me. I love the challenge of it. The ability to create a story that feels true. As if the characters are real people and live next door to you. 

I also think fiction writing is the ultimate form of storytelling. Even though (according to Georges Polti) there are only 36 plots, every story even with the same plot is different and original in its own right. 

Although the ultimate goal for every fiction writer is to write a full-length novel, short stories are an excellent point to start. I have started writing and publishing short stories so that by the time I reach my eighties I have learned the craft.

I have already published two — The Flight, and Aunt Olivia. Have a read and let me know what you think.

I intend to post one every week.

Photo by George Pagan III on Unsplash

I Posted On Social Media For 100 Consecutive Days (And Now I Am Addicted)


“You never read my poems.” complained my sister-in-law.

She published her poems on Facebook and hated social media.

I had opened an account on Facebook eight years ago, during a trip to Vietnam, posted some travel photos from a couple of trips, and then forgot all about it.

Then last year, I did a cartooning course. The main requirement of the course was to post a sketch every day on Facebook.

No way! I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself on Facebook, where half of my family and most of my friends were always active.

So I opened an account on Instagram and started posting my sketches there.

The encouragement I got from a small number of people who started following me blew my mind. 

I was addicted.

To social media.

But not in the way you might think.

I got addicted to social media because of three things.

  1. Learning in public
  2. Becoming a part of a scenius
  3. Self-promoting without self-promoting


Learning in public.

Social media opened for me a new way of operating. Almost all the people I learn and get inspiration from share their work and processes on social media. They are not running courses or doing seminars. They are too busy for that. Instead, they are sharing directly from their studios or home, where they are toiling away. Rather than being secretive about their work, they consistently post their work even if it is incomplete, faulty, and far from perfect. They are learning online, in public.

I discovered the best way to learn anything is to commit to learning in front of others. Figure out what you want to learn, follow people who are sharing their work, learn from them and share as you go, doesn’t matter how bad it is.

At this point, don’t worry about how you’ll make money or a career off it.

Be on the lookout for voices that you can fill with your efforts. With time you will find out your uniqueness.

On the spectrum of creative work, the difference between mediocre and good is vast. However, mediocrity is still in the range. You can still move from mediocre to good in increments. The real gap is between doing nothing and doing something. Amateurs know that contributing something is better than contributing nothing. — Austin Kleon

Becoming a part of a scenius.

A musician, record producer, and visual artist Brian Eno, introduced a new model for learning and contributing. He called it “scenius.”

Under this model, great ideas are often given birth by a group of creative individuals — artists, curators, thinkers, theorists, and other tastemakers — who make up an “ecology of talent.”

If we look closely, many people we think of as genius were part of “a whole scene of people who were looking at each other’s work, supporting each other, copying from each other, sharing and contributing ideas to each other.

Scenius acknowledge that good work isn’t created in a vacuum and that creativity is always, in some sense, a collaboration. A result of a mind connected to other minds.

Internet is basically a bunch of “sceniuses” connected together. Blogs, social media, discussion boards, forums, newsletters — are all the same thing; virtual scenes where people hand out and talk about the things they care about.

There is no bouncer, no gatekeeper, and no barrier to entering these scenes.

Medium is a scenius. Writers get together here, learning from each other, collaborating, growing, and enhancing the ideas. Within Medium, there are many scenius — separated by categories, interests, subjects.

You don’t have to be talented to be part of a scenius. You don’t have to have any particular qualifications or be a master of specific skills to be part of these scenes. You need to be willing to learn and contribute. Online, everyone — the artist, the expert, the amateur, the master, and the apprentice — contributes.

Sketch by author

Self-promoting without self-promoting.

I hate self-promotion. I am a subscriber to Comedian Steve Marin’s philosophy, “Be so good they can’t ignore you.” 

I just want to focus on getting better and believe people who like my work will find me. Just like Austin Kleon says, “You don’t really find an audience for your work; they will find you. You just need to be findable.”

By sharing my work on social media I am making sure I am findable. I attract people who are interested in what I do. Not only my work but my ups and downs, failures and successes, hopes and aspirations all make me a person very much like my readers. As they get to know me better, they get invested in my success. That is better promotion than any PR company can do for me.

I had no idea something as simple as posting an amateurish sketch a day could connect me to my readers. So many people wrote to me saying they look forward to my sketches. Others root me for the improvements. They even give me suggestions for what I should sketch next time. My self-esteem had a real boost when one follower asked me to design the cover of his novel.

To sum up.

Now you know why I am addicted. 

Social media has made the world smaller. It has made it possible to connect with people who share your interests and form “scenius.”

Rather than learning in isolation, learn in public. Forget about being an expert or a professional. Wear your amateurism with pride and share what you love. and people who love the same thing will find you.

Aunt Olivia ( SHORT STORY)

Aunt Olivia looks forward to the arrival of the community carer Lara who comes three times a week to help her with the shower and other little things she can’t do herself after her hip operation.

Twenty-three years old Lara is the only human connection Aunt Olivia has left with anyone other than her two nieces who take turns in dropping food. Their trips are short, conversation to the point and often loaded with instructions on how long to heat the food and what to do in case there is an emergency. It is Lara with whom Aunt Olivia gets to have a chat she so much needs.

‘While you are here would you mind rubbing some cream on my legs? They are prickly like cactus.’ Lara, a second-year nursing student, who works as a carer on the side, obliges.

‘Tell me how that boyfriend of yours is going?’ Olivia asks enjoying Lara’s young finger massage her wrinkly skin.

‘He is doing fine. These days he is helping his dad repair their house in Braidwood. I hardly see him.’

‘Not good dear, not good. You two ought to get married by now.’

Lara smiles. Each week, at least once, the conversation goes in the direction of marriage. It seems that when old people have nothing left in their own lives, they start meddling with others.

But Lara doesn’t mind Aunt Olivia prying. She has a way about her that was nudging but not intruding. That is perhaps the reason why she is an aunt to everyone.

‘We have talked about this before, Aunt Olivia. We are too young to get married. Besides both, Alex and I do not have regular income yet.’

‘Too young,’ scolds Aunt Olivia, ‘how old you want to be when you have children. Thirty-five. Goodness golly! You two have been living together for five years. Didn’t you say that to me?’

‘Yes.’ Lara wipes the extra oil from Olivia’s legs with a towel and pulls the pyjama down. ‘But none of my friends is married yet. Neither is his. Besides what marriage has to do with having children?’

It takes Olivia a few moments to comprehend that piece of information. Then she responds with a sigh ‘You might be right dear. What marriage has to do with having children?’

Then in a lower tone adds, ‘In my days — everything. Having children outside of marriage was enough to ruin not only mother’s life but that of the child’s as well.’

She walks slowly with the help of a walking frame to the living room where Lara helps her to settle in her favorite couch.

Olivia asks Lara to hand her a decorated brown wooden box from the dresser. It has a pile of old photographs. Slowly she reaches to the bottom of the box to pull out an envelope with a black and white photo of a young man. She looks at the photo with affection before handing it to Lara. A tall young man in casual pants and checker jumper is staring at the camera half leaning against a wall. He has an air of carefreeness about him.

‘I left marrying to him too late. I wasn’t sure. I thought we were too young. He went to war. Before leaving he came one last time. He wanted to go to the war as a married man. But I wasn’t so sure. He never came back.’

The photo has turned pale with time. Its edges have worn out with constant handling. Lara stares at the photo for a while. The young man in it looks very familiar. As if she has met him somewhere but couldn’t recall where.

‘Did he die in the war?’ she asks knowing Aunt Olivia was not married.

‘He went missing. I kept waiting that one day, he will come back.’

‘You didn’t find anyone else?’

‘I got too old.’ Aunt Olivia lets out a laugh. ‘First I was too young and then I was too old. Some came forward, but I was looking for him in them. Obviously, there was no one like him.’

Lara looks up and Aunt Olivia holds her gaze. ‘There is an age to get married. My mother used to say and I didn’t listen to her. She said that if you miss that age, marriage has no charm.’

Lara nods and gets up to leave, the photo still in her hand. She asks Aunt Olivia if she can borrow it.

Aunt Olivia gives her consent with her eyes closed. Suddenly she is too tired, either from all the effort she has put in this morning or from the flood of memories.

Two days later Aunt Olivia hears a knock at the door. It is not her day for a shower and her younger niece has brought the food for the week already. Who can it be?Before she can shuffle to the door, the key turns and the door opens. Lara walks in followed by a young man.

‘Aunt Olivia, I would like you to meet my boyfriend, Alex.’

There is no mistake in the resemblance. The face, the eyes, the shape of the jaw, even the color of the hair is the same. Only that her John was a bit fairer. This young man is darker, perhaps from working in the sun. Aunt Olivia runs her hand on his face with tears clouding her eyes. While Olivia is inspecting Alex, Lara goes out to help someone else come through the door.

‘Aunt Olivia, this is Alex’s father.’ I drove to Braidwood yesterday to bring him here.’

Stands before her, a man slightly older than her. He is still tall. His shoulders still broad. His skin still fair. The face which is forever young in her memory in fact has aged. But it is still the same face. They don’t know how long they stand there looking at each other, not believing what they were seeing, unaware of the presence of others. Then Aunt Olivia breaks the silence.

‘I waited for you.’ She says.

‘Do you think you are ready now?’ John asks.

That week minister performs two weddings, one in the church and one in Aunt Olivia’s living room.

© Neera Mahajan July 2014

Photo by Damir Bosnjak on Unsplash