Writing·4 min read
The blank page is lying to you
On starting badly on purpose, and why the worst first sentence is the most useful one.
TTheo Marsh · April 12, 2026
The blank page tells you that the next thing you write has to be good. This is a lie, and a paralysing one. The next thing you write has to exist. That's the entire job for the first hour.
I keep a file called bad-on-purpose.txt. Everything starts there, written as badly as I can stand, precisely so the stakes drop to zero. Only once there are words to fix does the real work — which is rewriting — have anything to push against.
“You can't edit a blank page, but you can edit a terrible one all day.”
Start badly. Start now. The good version is hiding inside the bad one, and there is no other door in.
