Writing Between the Engineering

People are surprised when they learn an engineer wrote this book. I understand why — we’re not famous for our feelings. But the two crafts have more in common than they let on.

Structure is a kindness

Engineering teaches you that structure isn’t the opposite of freedom — it’s what makes freedom safe. A bridge holds because of the tension you can’t see. A novel holds the same way. The chapters you enjoy most are usually the ones resting on a load-bearing beam you never noticed.

Iterate, then iterate again

No first draft survives contact with reality, and no first prototype does either. You build the ugly version, you test it against the world, and you let what breaks tell you what to fix. Writing Not Now Dear was a hundred small revisions in a trench coat.

Precision and warmth are not enemies. The most precise thing you can do is make someone feel exactly what you felt.

The same question, underneath

In the end, both jobs ask the same quiet question: what is this really for, and who is it for? Answer that honestly and the rest — the beams, the sentences, the ruby-red heels on the cover — falls into place.