You can snag the latest version of MarsEdit here

Congrats to @danielpunkass on MarsEdit 5 - I’m a HUGE fan of MarsEdit 4. It’s how I post to Just sad I missed the upgrade cutoff by a little less than a month. 😭

I’ll upgrade after the holidays have settled down. I’ve spent so much this month already.

Twitter Didn't Deserve This--and Neither Did We

I’m slowly finding my way around how I want to be perceived on places like and a private Discord chat I participate in with other writers. It’s not easy. I feel like I have to change who I am depending on where I post.

I didn’t have that feeling with Twitter. I could be as serious as I needed to be, or shit post with the best of ‘em. I could tweet a plea for help, or a dad joke, or a link to a ‘90s music video without worrying about what people would think of me.

They could unfollow or not. That was it.

And that’s what made Twitter special. It was big. So big, it was easy to feel like a drop in the ocean. I didn’t make the biggest ripple, but a few people felt my presence.

Twitter’s sheer size gave me and other content creators a nearly endless audience, while also allowing us to find our communities within it. If I wanted to, I could focus my tweets on “writer Twitter,” before moving on to “film Twitter” or “tech Twitter.”

While Discords and Mastodon instances offer possible new outlets for people to talk about their passions, they also make it hard to be anything other than what you do. I joined a Mastodon instance for people who fancy themselves philosophers, academics, and writers and there are some really fascinating discussions going on in there.

No way would I post a picture of a baby hippo with the caption “The perfect fren shape” and expect anyone to take me seriously. Nor would I feel comfortable tweeting links to my books and asking people to support me monetarily.

That kind of thing is expected on Twitter because it’s a free-for-all come-and-go-as-you-please void. Mastodon instances and Discords are like dinner parties. There are rules, written and unwritten, about what you can/should say and how much feces you’re allowed to smear on the walls (hint: none feces).

And that’s really why no Twitter alternatives have stuck with me–and why I don’t think they’ll stick long-term with anyone else. Twitter is far from perfect, but what it does do is unify people all over the world under one roof and then allow them to filter out the noise as they see fit.

It’s a news platform, a town square, a networking tool, and Craigslist all-in-one. Elon wanted to build an everything app that would combine chat, payments, news, ride sharing, and more, just like WeChat has done in China and what he failed to realize was that he already had it.

Twitter could have been that app, or at least come close to it, but instead, Musk squandered it. He came in like the T-Rex at the end of Jurassic Park and started flinging his tail around, destroying everything in his path.

Elon Musk is not a smart man. He is successful despite his incompetence because he’s at least smart enough to hire smarter people to actually run his other companies. But not Twitter. No, he had to fuck that one up all by himself and now we’re worse off because of it.

Twitter was a cesspool and a haven for Nazis and Republicans to spew hate to anyone who would listen. It needed work, but as a tool, it was in a league all its own. I don’t think there will be anything like it ever again. Facebook will die as the Metaverse takes all of Zuckerberg’s money and attention (and inevitably fizzles out). Mastodon is too federated to survive, especially as certain servers grow too popular and expensive to maintain. And all the other random networks popping up aren’t mainstream enough to break through.

And as much as I love, not everyone is going to pay $5 a month for their own little corner of the Internet. Plus, there are things I believe the service would need to do to make the switch easier for people, which may not be in its best interest. Sadly, is too niche to be the new Twitter (though I feel more comfortable to be myself here than I do on Mastodon or Discord).

So that’s it. Elon Musk broke Twitter and made the internet a lot worse. Now where do we go?

The Scrivener Problem

Today, there are all manner of word processing applications and hardware solutions to help you write a book. iA Writer, Ulysses, Google Docs (I won't link to it because it's trash), Microsoft Word (also trash, but not as bad as Google Docs), and portable writing machines like the Freewrite Traveler , as well as the Alphasmart from the bygone era of the 1990s (a device that has made a surprising comeback amongst writers today).

But above them all sits Scrivener from Literature & Latte.

I love Scrivener. I've used it for every single novel I've written. I don't think I'd have ever been able to finish a book without it. Among its many features, Scrivener allows you to:

  • Collect websites and other research
  • Create character and setting sheets
  • Move scenes around by drag-and-drop
  • Take snapshots of chapters before you edit them
  • and export to ePub and Kindle formats for easy self-publishing.

Seriously, it does it all, but by today's standards, that's not enough.

Scrivener's last major update came back in October of 2021. Since then, a number of competitors have either hit the market, or improved their offerings. They don't share 1-to-1 feature parity with Scrivener, but they don't have to.

Most fiction writers, I'd argue, want to be able to do three things above all else:

  1. Move their scenes/chapters around individually
  2. Export to a variety of different formats (.doc, .mobi, .epub, etc)
  3. Be able to sync their data between devices easily

It's that last one where Scrivener really shows its age. For one, the only cloud storage solution it works with is Dropbox. You can't sync over iCloud. Also, the file it stores its data in for each book is a bundle of other files, similar to a Final Cut Pro project. It's not a folder of Markdown files like iA Writer uses, which means if you want to work on your book away from your computer, you need to have Scrivener on your iPhone and/or your iPad.

Which brings us back to the sync problem. Syncing between the mobile versions of Scrivener and their desktop counterpart is rough. It tends to be a manual process, with sync needing to be initialized on one device before the changes appear on the other. Conflicts between the files occur often as well, and there have been numerous occasions in which I've had to delete older versions of a chapter, or rack my brain trying to remember which iteration is the newer one. Sync is not an automatic process the way it is with other apps and that's opens me up to troubles later on.

It means I can't trust the work I do on my phone or iPad to carry over to my Mac. And it means I live in constant fear of my files getting corrupted due to a bad sync, which has happened on occasion.

I do much of my professional and recreational writing in iA Writer, which works off of a folder of Markdown files. I can open that folder in an any other app, like Obsidian, and know that my words will look exactly how they're supposed to. There's no updating my file to work with the latest version of an app the way I have to do with Scrivener, nor do I have to wonder if the ink I spilled on my Mac will be on my iPad. I just know it will.

I don't want to tell Literature & Latte how to make its apps. Scrivener, despite its flaws, is still a powerhouse of an application. But it's also a dinosaur, limping along as the rest of the industry evolves and improves. At some point, it won't be enough for its app to be the "kitchen sink" that does it all.

Some people just want a cubby that holds a few special items they need regularly.

I want to see Scrivener get better, leaner, maybe shed some of the cruft that keeps Word-native writers from jumping over to the other side. But until it does, I'm going to start looking around at alternatives.

A book isn't the app it's written in and I've done this enough times to know I can knock a first draft out with nothing more than a handful of napkins and a dull pencil. Matt Gemmell wrote an informative blog post on how he uses Ulysses to write his novels and I think I'll explore that as an option, since I have the app on all my iOS devices.

It's scary to change a process that has been a part of my life for 12+ years. I've written six novels in Scrivener with a seventh on the way, but times are changing. Scrivener is like the town I grew up in: safe, well-known, the place where I feel most comfortable.

But there's a whole wide world with so much to offer and I think it's time for me to see what's waiting out there for me to discover.

My Current Workflow is in Flux

After going through OmniFocus, Notion, Todoist, and literally every other goddamn to-do app in existence, maybe all I really needed was just a list. A barebones list.

And on top of that, I’m trying to pare down my app usage to just what I need with a focus on cross-device compatibility. So, here’s the current rundown:

iA Writer: for Grim & Mild scripts, short stories, and posts to The Study

Scrivener: for novel writing

Drafts: for everyday notes

Craft: My one-stop-shop for everything from novel outlines, to story archives for Cabinet of Curiosities, and now my to-do lists. The Daily Note feature is exactly what I needed to keep track of my tasks each day.

MarsEdit: for posting to

I would love to consolidate some of my workflow into one of these. For example, doing all my blogging in either MarsEdit or iA Writer, but unfortunately MarsEdit doesn’t post to Ghost blogs (yet). I hope that changes in the future.

iA Writer does post to, but for some reason I never think of it as the place to go when I want to write a quick update. I’ll try to shift things around so I build that muscle memory going forward.

Also, I might be able to eliminate Drafts and rely on Craft’s daily note feature for quick jots. So there are two apps down from my list of five already.

Calendaring is handled by Fantastical and email is handled by Spark. The only Balkanized part of my current setup is messaging. Texts go through Apple Messages while I also use Slack for work and Facebook Messenger for my DnD group.

There’s a new app coming called - I’ve signed up for the beta. Hoping to get in soon. It combines a dozen different chat apps into one and maybe that’s the answer. Or maybe I can try and convince my friends to switch to something like Slack, or a group text thread.

This stuff is hard. I like using all the new shiny things, but I’ve also reached a point where my main concern isn’t new and exciting, only portable and reliable. iA Writer is great because it works off of Markdown files. I can open a folder in Obsidian or any other app and all my data is right there. I wish I could say the same for Scrivener files, or Drafts, which utilizes its own database system.

Minimalism is tough when so many of the pieces don’t cooperate with each other.

So I went back into Notion and cleared out a bunch of cruft. I set up my workspace to mimic August Bradley’s “personal OS” setup (with modifications) and I’m giving it another shot. I feel like I am perpetually unsatisfied with all task and project management solutions, so I’ll use the one I built myself and see how it goes.

On the 15th Anniversary of the Original iPhone's Release

The early 2000s were a wild time for cell phones. Just ask Mr. Mobile. Most of us had flip phones, like the Motorola RAZR, or candy bar phones, while business folks were emailing and calendaring on Blackberrys and Palm Treos. Nokia had some of the most out-there designs, like their taco-shaped gaming phone, the N-Gage and the 6800, a candy bar phone that flipped open to reveal a full QWERTY keyboard split across its two halves. I had one and it was so much easier to text on than those awful T9 keyboards the flip phones used.

And then, in January of 2007, Steve Jobs got on stage at Macworld Expo and delivered what has since become known as the greatest product announcement of all time. Whatever your opinion of the iPhone today, it is impossible to deny its influence on the rest of the world. And I’m not just talking about how it influenced the phone industry.

The iPhone turned our phones into permanent extensions of our hands. I cannot leave a room without my iPhone either clutched in my fingers or tucked into my pocket. I used to feel naked without a watch on my wrist each day, but now I feel like I’ve left half my body at home if I don’t have my phone on me. Heck, I can’t actually leave my home without it, as it’s become my GPS system while I drive and for a long time, it was my train ticket into New York every day.

That’s the thing about the iPhone–it didn’t just revolutionize the mobile phone industry. It changed–and eliminated–other industries entirely. Here’s a list of things I used to carry before the iPhone:

  • a cell phone
  • a GPS unit
  • a point-and-shoot camera
  • an iPod
  • a handheld game system

Five devices reduced to one.

I remember that keynote. I go back to it once a year on YouTube to try and recapture the excitement I felt when I first saw Jobs pick the aluminum and glass slab off the demo kiosk on the side of the stage. The moment he slid his finger across the screen to unlock it, I knew I had to have it. It truly looked like magic.

And so I spent the next five months saving up the five hundred dollars I needed to buy it, back when I was working for about $32,000 a year and paying rent with two other roommates in a pricey NJ apartment. It was the cause of many fights between me and my now-wife, but I couldn’t get it out of my head.

Only a year prior, I had been on T-Mobile using their Sidekick II “smartphone” and I loved it at first, but it wasn’t what I really wanted. The rubbery keyboard was hard to use for long periods of time and the interface was almost too bubbly. It was a toy disguised as a tool.

Soon after the Macworld keynote, I did everything I could to get out of my T-Mobile contract and onto AT&T, going so far as to file a complaint with the Better Business Bureau. That did the trick and after a short phone call in the hallway of my college’s main building, I was free. I hurried over to the nearest AT&T store and migrated everything over to a new account.

And then I waited. And waited. I put in for time off at work for the day of release–June 29, 2007–knowing I would be stuck in a line for at least 10 hours. Today, I see people wait on line for sneakers, or concert tickets, or some other big-ticket item and I chuckle. “I’d never do that again,” I think, but it’s not just that I’m fifteen years older than I was back then. It truly was a different time.

Apple was hot, but small. Everyone had an iPod and that’s where most people’s familiarity with the company started and stopped. The Mac wasn’t nearly as popular as it is today. I was rocking a 2006 Black MacBook at the time (my all-time favorite laptop to this day), but I was in the minority. Most of my classmates had Windows-based laptops and my wife, who was my fiancée back then, had been doing all her schoolwork on a Sony Vaio desktop.

The night before release day, I packed my messenger bag with everything I’d need for my excursion: my MacBook, a book to read, some classwork, my iPod and headphones, and some snacks. My wife woke up the next morning to find that her computer wasn’t working correctly. She needed something to do her classwork on and so, begrudgingly, I left my laptop behind for her to use. I was angry and worried that I’d be bored out of my skull all day as I stood outside the Apple Store at the Short Hills Mall, waiting for them to let me at the device I was convinced would make me the productivity powerhouse I knew I could be.

With one less thing to occupy myself, I jumped in my car and sped down to Short Hills, New Jersey, parked my car in the garage, and hoofed it over to the lower level where the Apple Store was located. I rounded the corner just past the Au Bon Pain and saw the glowing white Apple logo, illuminated like a beacon. I knew the iPhone was going to be big, but I didn’t know just how big until I got in line. I tilted my gaze down to see about thirty people already waiting.

It was 8:00 am.

But what followed is why I say it was a different time. Nobody sitting in that line, nor anyone who came in behind me, had an iPhone yet. Most had flip phones like me. This was going to be one hell of an upgrade. Others were getting rid of their BlackBerrys and Treos. A few had HP iPAQs, true “pocket PCs” running Windows Mobile. I had wanted one for ages and every time I’d enter a carrier store, I’d gravitate toward the display and poke around on them with their attached styluses.

Every one of us was in the same boat. Nobody had the inside scoop. Tech blogs didn’t post “leaks” the way they do today. Prototypes weren’t left in bars. None of us really knew anything beyond what we’d seen onstage five months prior. This was all new, as most tech was back then. It was a time when Nokia phones came in all shapes and sizes, a full year before the MacBook Air was released and influenced every single laptop going forward.

This was still a time when people didn’t use their phones for everything. Younger folks may not remember, but the mobile internet wasn’t really a thing before the iPhone. Sure, it existed in a rudimentary “why would anyone use this?” kind of way, but it wasn’t until after the iPhone came out when the mobile web really saw significant development. And there was no Candy Crush, no Fortnite–no “app for everything.” It was a simpler time.

That’s why I look back on 2007 and the time before with such fondness. It wasn’t that people spent less time on their phones, it’s that technology was still figuring itself out. Everything was in a state of flux and discovery. Today, laptops, phones, tablets, and every connected device is basically an appliance. In fact, we buy computers with less consideration than we do refrigerators or washing machines. Our devices are more like soda brands: we know what we like and we keep buying more of the same.

That’s due in large part to the iPhone.

So, I sat on the cold, marble floor of the Short Hills Mall as hundreds of people filtered in throughout the morning. I spoke to businessmen, dads, moms, teenagers playing hooky, and just about anyone sitting around me. Conversations floated around to whomever wanted to join in. There was no “iPhone vs Android” or even Mac vs PC here. We were all excited tech enthusiasts simply waiting to kick off the next revolution.

The Starbucks in the mall brought everyone small coffees and snacks to enjoy as we waited. A local news crew showed up to interview people waiting in line. If anyone had to go to the bathroom, the rest of us held their spot for them until they got back. And anyone who tried to cut ahead was damn near beheaded until they found their rightful spot at the back of the line.

Finally, just after 6:00 pm, the doors opened. They took us in about 10 at a time, asking us which model we were purchasing. I was nervous. I stood there hoping I didn’t arrive too late. I’d waited an entire day and if I was going to be sent home without an iPhone I, an impetuous 22 year-old, might have burned the place down.

But I didn’t have to worry. There were plenty of units to go around. After fifteen minutes or so, it was my turn. The person at the door welcomed me and asked me what I was there to buy and I nervously told them a 4GB iPhone. They whisked me over to a counter where someone took my payment and handed me a black gift bag with my brand new iPhone inside. And then they applauded.

I’ll say this right now: applauding people dropping $500+ on a new phone was never–and will never be–a good idea. It’s gross. It was the only part of the experience I hated and the fact that they still do it makes me glad I buy my phones online for home delivery nowadays.

With the bag’s handles firmly grasped in my hand, I hurried back to my car and drove back to my apartment. Nobody was there when I walked in. I pulled the box out of the bag, placed it gingerly on the dining table, and removed the outer plastic.

The top of the box slid off slowly. I remember the smell of cardboard and aluminum. I remember carefully prying the device from its cradle inside the box, followed by the satisfying pull of the plastic screen protector from the untouched glass. I remember holding down the power button for the first time and watching the Apple logo appear onscreen, like I had startled it awake.

And I remember the slide, the drag of my index finger across the smooth, glass screen to unlock it as I watched the UI react with such fluidity. No other phone could do this. It really was just as magical at it had looked half a year earlier.

That was the start of my fifteen year love affair with the iPhone. Other devices have tempted me (I REALLY want a foldable, or at least I want Apple to build one), but nothing has pulled me away from the quality and stability of their flagship phone.

My son is seven now. He has only known a world in which the internet is always available. His main computing device is an iPad, which is constantly tucked into the crook of his arm like a stuffed animal. He can watch whatever TV show he chooses whenever he chooses. He’s never had to wait for someone to get off the phone before going online. He’s never had to wait a year and a half for a movie to leave theaters before it was released on home video. He’ll probably never buy physical media in his lifetime and he’ll never know the struggle of standing in the aisle at Best Buy and comparing the placards between two similar laptops.

For him, the internet and iPhones are as common as water and oxygen.

Though technology has advanced considerably in the last fifteen years, the decisions we make around that technology have gotten simpler. People buy what they know. Most phones do the same things–it all comes down to which operating system they prefer (or how locked in they are). But aside from the iPad, I cannot think of a single product that has changed the way we interact with the world–or each other–since the iPhone’s release on June 29, 2007.

I feel bad for the people who weren’t alive or old enough to experience the change, but not in a “things were better back then” way. It’s more that the wonder seems to be gone in today’s jaded, fast-moving tech world. No one waits for the latest phone anymore. They’re commodities. Companies like Microsoft and BlackBerry thought the iPhone would fail even before it came out. They said no one would pay that much for a phone unsubsidized. They thought the demos were fake, that no company–especially little ol’ Apple–could create something so seamless, so joyful in its expression.

But they did, and they turned the world upside down with it. Once the door was opened, other companies started coming out with their supposed “iPhone killers.” And many performed well, but nothing actually killed the iPhone. The iPhone is more than a device. It’s an idea, a paradigm. It cannot be killed. Even if the iPhone disappeared tomorrow, it would still go down in history as the phone that started it all–and I was there to witness it firsthand.

I don’t remember anyone I waited in line with that day. We didn’t exchange numbers and we didn’t keep in touch. It wasn’t that kind of experience. It was just a moment. A single, fleeting, intimate, 10-hour moment between three hundred people waiting to touch the future.

And there will never be anything like it ever again.

Very excited to post my reflection on when I waited in line for 10 hours to buy the first iPhone on launch day 15 years ago. It was a much different time for tech enthusiasts and for Apple especially. A moment we will never have again with any company I reckon.

Just finished the first draft of a blog post on my experience waiting in line for the first iPhone back in 2007. It was a different time. The 29th marks the 15th anniversary of its release and I wanted to commemorate it somehow.

Jony Ive Didn't Outgrow Apple--Apple Outgrew Jony Ive

A writeup in The Verge of a new book about how Apple changed after Steve Jobs died:

Ive was eager to portray the Watch like a fashion accessory, Mickle writes, and wanted to introduce it with the pomp and circumstance to match.

Ive eventually got his way but felt unsupported by the new regime at Apple. That was reportedly the beginning of the end. After years of reports that Ive was increasingly uninvolved in the company, he eventually left to found his own design firm, LoveFrom, in 2019.

Ive came from a time when Apple had to prove itself on a yearly basis. Its products had to be flashy to compete with better-specced beige boxed alternatives coming from PC makers. That’s why the original iMac and iBook, while less powerful, took off like rockets in the late ‘90s and early 2000s.

Everything changed after 2007 when Apple released the iPhone and could no longer claim to be the underdog. Thanks to that little slab of glass, smartphones and the idea of “carrying the Internet in our pockets” became commonplace. Apple wasn’t a boutique computer company for the moderately wealthy anymore. They were more like Frigidaire and Kenmore.

Tablet computers starting at $499? Smartphones starting at $200? The devices we used every day were now appliances and appliances didn’t need to necessarily be thinner and lighter each year. The idea of form at the expense of function was gone.

No one cared how thin your keyboard was if it stopped working once a speck of dust breached the gap between its keys. The slim profile of the MacBook Pro didn’t matter if it meant “Pro” users couldn’t pop in an SD card or a USB-A cable.

Even with today’s Mac Studio, people talk about its looks as being “blah.” Why? It’s a small, silver box that takes up very little room and lets you export 4K video in seconds. It has accessible ports on top for easy access. It doesn’t need to be made of glass or light up or shaped like a teardrop.

Of course, much of the complaining about Apple’s “boring” design choices with some of its products comes from people who remember when the first iMac launched. Each year, casings and colors changed, laptops got thinner and desktops were shrunk down into beautiful works of cubist art.

We’re past that now. Computers are appliances. Phones are appliances. They’re as common as toasters and microwaves. Sure, we expect them to look nice on our desks–which every Apple product does–but we shouldn’t expect entirely new design paradigms like we saw during the Ive days.

And that especially goes for the Apple Watch. Today, Apple’s square wearable (squarable?) is iconic, but not because of its design. It’s because of its health features. Even Apple chooses to highlight how its watch saves lives over how it saves ensembles.

Jony Ive’s work at Apple is legendary. He was instrumental in turning the company around from the brink of death, but fewer people care about chamfered edges and saving a few millimeters on their laptop profiles. They want ports. They want speed. They want power.

Just like tech bloggers should stop asking “What would Steve do?” every time a new product comes out, they should also avoid asking “What would Jony do?” Companies change and few have changed as much as Apple has in the last 10 years.

It’s time to move on.

Apple's Return to Office is a Return to Burnout and Resentment

I read this today on 9to5Mac and my blood started to boil:

Earlier this month, Apple had employees return to work at the corporate office in a hybrid format. The process has been gradual. They’re currently in the office one day per week, but according to company policy, by May 23 employees will need to be in office at least three days per week.

However, some employees have not warmed up to the idea of returning to the office.

And why would they? The last two years have shown that employees are tired of:

  • Long commutes
  • Expensive gas prices
  • Cube farms and open concept layouts
  • Not seeing their families
  • Not having downtime

Obviously, some roles require an in-house component. If you’re designing the casing for the next iPad or the chip going into the next iPhone, it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible to do all of that remotely. And there are those who actually enjoy working in an office each day. They like having that clear separation of work life and home life that comes with a commute and change of scenery.

But your average marketer? HR rep? Financial analyst? Why is it important for them to shlep into the office, sit in traffic, and risk their health when they’ve shown they can be just as productive from the comforts of their own homes? Return to office should not be mandatory. It should be an option.

What makes this worse is Apple’s recent “Underdogs” ad campaign that touts how people can use Apple’s technology to run an entire business without the need for office space. The hypocrisy is palpable.

And let’s not forget what everyone brings up when they talk about why “return to office” is so important. “Oh, it’s about collaboration! We have such a great office culture!” What “office culture?” Fluorescent lighting and no privacy? A pizza party in lieu of a proper raise?

Let’s not mince words when it comes to discussing the return to the office and what it’s really about: capitalism. The banks have threatened to devalue office properties if the companies leasing them don’t use them. Apple spent billions on a brand new campus and it’ll be damned if people aren’t going to walk its sterile, glass hallways each day.

I, for one, hope “the great resignation” continues. If a progressive, high tech company like Apple can’t get with the times, then they don’t deserve the talent they have. That talent will go where they can do their jobs just as productively as they have been for the last two years while wearing pajamas.