Finding Myself
My brain convulsed as I blurted out, “this article sucks!” I’d been sitting at the computer for several hours writing the first of four essays. Procrastinating until day seven had not been wise. My thinking had gone from purposeful to scattered. I wanted to sleep; it was an hour past my normal bedtime, and I had many paragraphs to go. Out of desperation, I sipped the decaying remains of coffee made 16 hours earlier. Musty cardboard assaulted my nostrils as I swallowed the abrasive brew. Caffeine is good, but would it help my writing?
A few weeks prior, a friend asked if I would be interested in joining The Network State (TNS) - their writers guild to be precise. Joining hadn’t crossed my mind since reading The Network State, Balaji Srinivasan’s digital-only worldview exploring how technology could remap the political world. My book club had selected, scheduled, and consumed the book in short order. We discussed it at length over four weeks. I considered what joining would be like.
Would there be a multi-day onboarding process similar to a corporation having a mature, but bland routine? You know the kind I’m talking about: pre-boarding, orientation, training, support, integration, perhaps a chance to provide feedback. Culture, mission, values; a process someone in the company had been fine tuning the life out of for some time. I hoped it wouldn’t be like that.
Perhaps it would be more like joining a branch of the US military, minus the haircut. Would there be a deluge of work meant to exhaust and disorient? Would they leverage this fatigue to inculcate unity, esprit de corps, discipline, and hierarchy? Those are valuable traits within a military unit. A successful network state needs alignment, motivation, productivity, and a strong leader to unite followers into collective action. My ears recoil to thoughts of Balaji thundering like a senior drill instructor - Full Metal Jacket meets The Network State.
Two weeks later, our first meeting did feature the big man himself, excited to explain network state upgrades on the horizon. But instead of a firing range, he appears at ease on one of many battlefields of choice: a Zoom call with other writers and revolutionaries. Likely surrounded by all manners of productivity-enhancing technologies, I consider if he has an exotic D20 handy for critical decision making, perhaps in crystallized titanium. I roll mine, opaque blue acrylic. It comes up an ‘11’. Probably not.
It turns out the coffee did help to stop my incessant yawning. A couple hours later, I post a link to my first published article. I then toss and turn in bed, the caffeine fueled night conjuring all sorts of worst-article-ever nightmares. Ah, the life of a writer-in-the-making.
Following Balaji’s epic intro, a trio of organizers guided twenty of us through the writing process. I was grateful for this, as intro-three-supporting-paragraphs-conclusion was a vague memory from a long time ago.
This was a much more iterative writing style, similar to how successful product companies create value. It’s a pretty good process when followed, which I didn’t the first week. Most importantly, a “bias towards publishing” is taught, reinforced, and encouraged.
The old saying goes: you get what you pay for. But TNS didn’t ask for any money. It was obvious they were not giving it away for free, however. Four articles about The Network State in four weeks was the price. I paid it without (too much) complaint, throwing myself into the work.
The next couple weeks went by quickly. Learning to use AIs, reading the works of others, providing feedback on those articles, posting on Twitter, and growing an audience ever so slowly were some of the daily tasks. Oh, and writing. Lots of writing.
I’d taken chances by starting Discord conversations with other TNS members. Most of these interactions turned out just fine. The introvert was stepping back to make room for his more congenial counterpart. Things were progressing well. Well… until ETHDenver started.
For those unaware, ETHDenver is Colorado’s largest annual Ethereum conference and hackathon. Weighing in at 11 days, it is a no holds barred heavyweight of vendor booths, app building, bounty chasing, education, food trucks, camaraderie, and strange creatures called bufficorns. The event is split between two locations: The Brighton during the first week, and the National Western Complex for the main event.
The Brighton was 37,000 square feet of frigid, industrial modernity. Most of the people attending the first day were looking to form teams in order to build dapps, chase bounties, and meet new people. I had not planned on joining a team, despite being encouraged to do so. I was there to sit in on lectures with a dear friend who’d flown into town for the event.
I’m not sure why I started a conversation with the young man sitting next to me later that afternoon. We shook hands, and made introductions. He was stylish and well spoken, and had an open, curious nature. I suspected him a distance runner, as he humbly detailed his coding and business experience. Fifteen minutes later, I was gathering information on what bounties were available. I’d spoken to more than a dozen people by five o’clock. The game was on. I had formed a build team.
The next day, I learned about an in-person meetup scheduled for the following week and promptly applied to attend. I was thrilled to be accepted and asked the host if my wife could join me. The response was a resounding "sure thing!" On the day of the event, we arrived at the 14er Brewery and found ourselves amidst a dozen people discussing network states, blockchain, and startup cities. Every conversation was enlightening, and everyone was enjoyable to talk to. Before I knew it, closing time had arrived, and I had met numerous people whom I knew I'd see again during ETHDenver's main event.
If you didn’t experience the chaos of EthDenver at the National Western Complex, do try to attend next year. If you did witness it firsthand, I hope you’re less exhausted than me. So much swag. So much content. So many builders. In either case, my words cannot do it justice.
We were finalizing our project late into the night. Officially, it was already Sunday. I was grateful to get five hours of sleep. The deadline was 8:00am. We met early to ensure that everything was in order after working late into the night. We made some last-minute adjustments to the user interface and fixed a few minor bugs. With six minutes until deadline, I clicked the submit project button. This took me to a game of 20 questions, culminating in what’s your wallet address - for each team member.
In the end, we knocked out a respectable proof of concept in the form of working software. It win anything, but it felt fantastic.
With EthDenver coming to a close, I refocused on my writing. What a month! Lessons learned, friendships started, a successful dapp created, and (almost) four articles published. I feel like I have leveled up repeatedly, like any good gaming grind would do.
A big thank you to The Network State and its contributors. I’m honored to have played a small part in such a big idea. Did I get what I paid for? Oh, yes. I hope my writing serves as inspiration and information for those interested in the concept.
Once again, it’s past my bedtime. Article four is due. I’m pushing to get it published. Coffee is unnecessary, as the writing process has become energizing. The words are flowing. I feel younger than I did a month ago. I am grateful for the opportunity to explore new ideas, collaborate with like-minded individuals, and expand my skills. This journey has been exhilarating, and I look forward to the next chapter.