Between 2015 and 2023, I gave over 50 technical talks and workshops. Topics ranged from RxJS deep-dives to Angular workshops to async/await codemods to TypeScript advocacy.

I never wrote a single one down as a blog post.

The slides live on a Google Drive. The recordings (where they exist) are scattered across YouTube channels of various meetup groups. The knowledge is fragmented, hard to find, and slowly becoming irrelevant as technologies move on.

Why I didn’t write

The honest answer? Talks were easier. You prepare once, deliver once, get applause, and move on. Writing requires you to actually think through your ideas until they hold up under scrutiny. Speaking lets you wave your hands through the weak parts.

There’s also the perfectionism trap. A talk is ephemeral. A blog post feels permanent. “I’ll write it up properly later” is one of the most common lies I’ve told myself.

And then there’s time. I was building products, managing teams, coaching people, and raising kids. Writing felt like a luxury.

What I lost

Here’s what I realized: the value of those 50 talks evaporated. The people who were in the room benefited. Everyone else got nothing.

Meanwhile, developers I admire wrote blog posts in 2018 that still rank on Google. Still get shared. Still help people. Their ideas compound while mine decayed.

The math is brutal: an hour of writing creates something that helps thousands of people for years. An hour of speaking helps a room of people for an hour.

What I’m doing about it

This blog is, in part, a response to that realization. Some posts will be new thinking. Some will be reconstructions of talks I gave years ago, updated for 2026 and written down for the first time.

The backlog of ideas is massive. The constraint is no longer having things to say. It’s picking which thing to say next.

If you’re sitting on your own backlog of unwritten ideas: start now. Not because the world needs another blog. But because the act of writing forces clarity, and clarity compounds.