How I Choose What to Write About (It’s Not What You Think)

My Brain on Community: A Live Documentary (With Popcorn Provided by You)

This is a question I get regularly and thought the answer might help some of you who are constantly looking for new blog topic ideas.

I don’t sit down with a content calendar and a list of “high-traffic keywords.”
I don’t chase trends on Google Trends or stare at competitor blogs wondering what will “rank.”

Instead, I do the simplest (and most enjoyable) thing imaginable:
I listen to you.

Every comment, every DM, every “you should write about this” email, every poll response… they all land in the same place—my curiosity inbox. And because this community is massive, generous, and gloriously opinionated, that inbox is never empty.

But listening is only step one.

Step two is the part I love most: I learn.

When fifty of you ask (in slightly different ways) about the same struggle, I don’t just jot down “write post about X.” I go down the rabbit hole myself—reading the papers, testing the tools, making the mistakes, having the breakthroughs—so that when I finally sit down to write, I’m not dispensing second-hand advice from on high.

I’m basically live streaming the inside of my brain while it’s still figuring things out.

That’s why these posts often feel a little raw, a little messy, occasionally contradictory in the best way. Because they’re not polished marketing assets. They’re dispatches from the front lines of my own learning, written the moment the light bulb flickers on (or sometimes while it’s still flickering).

You’re not just giving me topics.
You’re giving me permission to stay a perpetual student.
You’re handing me the exact questions I need answered too.

So, when I hit “publish,” what you’re reading is almost always something I needed to understand better myself—usually something I only fully understood in the act of writing it down for you.

It’s a ridiculously privileged feedback loop:

You ask → I research → I learn → I write → we all get smarter → you ask better questions → repeat forever.

I’m endlessly grateful for it.

So, keep talking to me. Keep arguing in the comments. Keep sliding into my DMs with half-baked theories and wild ideas. Keep voting in polls and sending voice notes and tagging me in posts that make you yell “SOMEONE EXPLAIN THIS.”

Because every time you do, you’re not just suggesting a blog post.

You’re co-creating my curriculum.

And I can’t think of a better way to spend my time than learning out loud with all of you.

See you in the comments.
(And thanks, truly, for keeping my brain so delightfully full.)