The Nuts and Bolts Guide to Tech Contract Jobs

The past couple of years have been brutal in the tech industry as once-solid full-time (FTE) jobs have evaporated in mass layoffs. This downward pressure in tech employment also reached into contract (also known as vendor) jobs, which many tech firms use to supplement FTE roles. The good news is that while FTE roles still appear to be constrained, the contract recruiters I’ve been talking with seem optimistic for contract role growth.

With more people caught in past layoff waves looking at the days pass without income, I’m seeing more people who used to work FTE look for contract work. Contract work is different than FTE work in many ways, including how you go about finding jobs. I wrote something a few months back in the Out in Tech Slack about the nuts and bolts of finding and working contract and thought I’d share it here. I also highly recommend Bill Pearse‘s LinkedIn newsletter, Gig Work for insightful views on working contract and the nature of work itself.

I’ve worked both FTE and contract in places like Microsoft, Amazon, and Starbucks and been on both sides of the hiring table for FTEs and contractors. I was impacted by a layoff in December 2022 when my contract job at Microsoft was cut short, plunging me into unemployment. The good news for me was that I was able to land a different contract role in Amazon Web Services within two months and then I shifted back to a different contract role at Microsoft in July 2023 for Azure Quantum working for Simplicity Consulting.

Contracting can be a bridge between FTE work, a way to test a new career path, or create some flexibility in your work life. Whatever the reason you’re pursuing contractor work, you should know some things beforehand.

Contract employment money matters

There are two forms of contract work: 1099 or W2, each with their own tax and benefit implications.

1099 employment is self-employment. You are a true independent contractor and you’re on the hook for everything from paying for self-employment and social security taxes to health insurance to supplying your own hardware and software.

W2 employment is working for the contract company and they take care of the tax and benefits side of things, assuming they offer benefits. Benefits as a W2 contract employee can range wildly from almost nothing to fully-paid health insurance and 401K retirement contributions. In my experience, most fall somewhere in-between and there can be a 3-6 month waiting period before benefits kick in.

Contract work often pays more than FTE work salary-wise because you don’t have the benefits of an FTE, which can be 25% or more of total compensation. But your higher contract rate compared to an FTE can quickly get eaten up by taxes or benefits payments.

For example, my current gig is a W2 contract, and my employer has a health plan and matching 401K. But my health plan cost plus its deductibles work out to about as much as my mortgage payment(!!). So while on paper I’m earning more than I did in equivalent FTE roles, cash-flow wise it’s less. Your mileage may vary.

Contract companies make money by earning a placement fee when they get you a contract job. The mechanics of this vary depending on their contract with company they place you at from a lump sum up front to a percentage of how much they charge on a periodic (usually monthly) basis.

In some cases, you may find a contract on your own. I know several people who contracted back into groups they used to be an FTE in and they only use the contract company as a vehicle for billing to avoid the often byzantine, laborious, and sometimes expensive process of becoming a certified vendor. In these cases, which are often 1099 employment, you will be negotiating with the contract firm for how much they charge you for their services. Remember that you are bringing them free money that they didn’t have to prospect for and negotiate accordingly.

Pay is talked about as an hourly or monthly rate, depending on the company. Be sure to ask about the pay cycle. I get paid once a month, which is hell on my cash flow, but maps to the monthly invoice my contract firm sends to the employer.

You should never have to pay to get placed. If someone asks you for money up front to get a contract gig, run, don’t walk away.

Finding contract companies

Where there are tech employment hubs, there are contract companies supplying contract labor. The Seattle area has a ton of these agencies that service MSFT, AMZN, FB, GOOG, etc. They range from local, boutique firms often led by former FTEs of the companies they mainly supply to national and international companies.

So how do you find a contract company? I’d start by canvassing your network asking them what agencies the companies they work for use for contract or contingent staffing. If you’re working now at a larger tech company, the corporate address book or directory can be a wealth of information as to who works for whom. LinkedIn is another good place to look.

Some firms specialize in the types of roles they fill, so I recommend doing some research on LinkedIn and the web about them before contacting them. For example, if you’re an engineer, contacting a firm that specializes in placing marcom people isn’t going to be much help to you and will be a waste of time. You may find that some firms don’t have publicly-visible open contract job listings or just a handful. Many contract openings are never posted to a website for discretionary or competitive reasons; don’t let that dissuade you from contacting a firm.

Working with contract recruiters

Now that you have a list of firms, the next step is to track down their recruiters to set up some interviews. LinkedIn or their company’s website is the place to find their contact information. But before you do that, you should have already done your homework by having your resume and LinkedIn up to date. Recruiters and recruiting firms get paid by the employer and they exist to place people into jobs, not help you tweak your resume to get you placed. If you have multiple skill areas, I’d recommend having a different resume version for each.

I’ve found recruiters at contract firms are almost always willing to meet to discuss openings and add your resume to their pile for current or future consideration. It’s literally their job to build a network of potential hires. Plus, it’s great interview practice.

Be clear on if you’re looking for 1099 or W2 employment, full-time or part-time work, the minimum rate you can accept, and the shortest contract you’d be willing to do. (I’ve seen contracts as short as three months.) This will help them narrow down potential opportunities.

Sometimes it’s clear if you are or aren’t a good fit for their agency based on who they work with and the types of roles they receive. If there’s no fit or they have no open roles they think you’d be a fit for, ask them what other firms you might contact. Recruiters, like the rest of us, change employers so this shouldn’t be an awkward ask as they’ve maybe already worked there or might in the future.

Keep in mind you are the talent and have multiple options. Contract recruiters expect you’re talking to other contract recruiters. I have connections with several contract recruiters on LinkedIn and repost their job openings when I see them to remind them that I’m still around and help build goodwill.

There are also tons of sketchy firms out there. If you see or feel red flags, move on.

Good recruiters will take 15-30 minutes to talk to you, review your experience, talk about how many and how often they’ll have openings that match your skillset, and tell you if they think they could place you based on your experience and employment requirements. Bad ones will ask you for personal information right off the bat, keep everything in email, and use you as a stalking horse in negotiations with other contractors to drive down how much they have to pay them. Every firm has its own personality, so find one that feels comfortable.

One really important thing to find out up front is what happens when your contract is up. Sometimes contracts will renew with the same employer, sometimes not. Be sure to ask the recruiter what their process is to renew or re-place you at the end of a contract and when to kick that process off.

Interviewing for contract roles

If a recruiter finds a contract they think you’d be suitable for, you will likely interview with the company it’s at. Sometimes these are competitive interviews where you are interviewing against other potential people from your or other contracting firms. Sometimes it’s just so the company can vet how you present yourself and see for themselves if your skills match what the recruiter told them. I’ve had contract roles where I got the job without the hiring manger ever looking at my resume based on the strength of the recruiter’s recommendation. I’ve also been in competitive situations. Ask the recruiter beforehand; they should be transparent about this.

Remember that interviews are a two-way street. The manager at the company you work for can be a crapshoot, so if you have red flags when you talk to them in an interview, pass that along to the recruiter.

All the roles should have a clear statement of work (SOW), which detail the duties, expectations, and deliverables of the role, sometimes with milestone dates. It’s the job description. Before being put forward for consideration or interviewing, you should know what’s in the SOW because it’s the contract requirements for the contract work. If a recruiter is being cagey about the SOW, that’s a red flag.

SOWs can range from highly detailed and specific with dozens of bullet points to more general, and that can cut both ways. When I get to the interview stage, I like to ask the hiring manager about the SOW to understand how flexible it is, what the percentage breakdown of time on task is for the deliverables, and how they stack-rank them. I use the answers as signals to highlight areas during the interview where I’m strong and get a sense if I’m going to be micro-managed.

The SOW should also cover if it’s an in-office, hybrid, or remote role, and what, if any, travel and expenses (T&E) are covered. I’ve had remote contract roles where mileage and ferry fare (I live on an island) for in-office meetings were covered under T&E and others that were not. T&E is negotiated between the contracting firm and the employer, so when T&E isn’t in a SOW, I’m quick to tell hiring managers for remote roles that I’m paying out of pocket to attend in-office meetings and that’s going to make me reluctant to come into the office.

Some companies, Microsoft in particular, have changed how they hire contract staff and require contractors to submit personal information when they put you forward for consideration. I am a personally-identifiable information (PII) minimalist, and I only share this once I have an established relationship with a recruiter. I’ve had contract recruiters I’ve never met message me on LinkedIn telling me I’m a great fit for an open role and ask for my PII right off the bat. I suspect they’re scammers. I always push back and ask for a phone call to discuss the role and to get a sense of them. For those that agree to a call, if they’re pushy on the phone, I thank them for thinking of me and move on.

Signing your contract

If you’ve found a good contract recruiter to work with, gone through an interview, and then been told you got the job, congratulations! At this point, you’ll get a contract to sign. As my grandfather, a very shrewd man who knew his paperwork, taught me: READ EVERYTHING BEFORE YOU SIGN AND DON’T SIGN ANYTHING YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND OR AGREE TO.

It’s very easy to get caught up in the euphoria of landing a new job, especially if you’ve been out of work. It can make it easy to rush through this step and get right to earning money.

Contract employment contracts are different than FTE employment contracts. Critical things to look for in the contract paperwork:

  • Does the SOW match what you saw when you were interviewing? I’ve had SOWs change between interview and contract!
  • Is the pay rate correct? Are the pay periods what you were expecting?
  • Is the contract term correct?
  • Is the hiring manager/reporting manager different than represented? Sometimes contracts on the company’s part are handled by finance and this is who you roll up to. I’ve also had hiring managers change jobs before I started work, which felt very bait-and-switchy.
  • Are the benefits (if any) detailed correctly and what you expected?
  • Are you on the hook for any incidental expenses like T&E or hardware and software?
  • Are the renewal terms, if applicable, correct?
  • Are any time expectations, like maximum number of hours per week or on-call hours, correct?

It’s also a common practice for background checks to be performed before hiring, so keep a lookout for paperwork on that along with any confidentiality/non-disclosure agreements (NDA). Examine NDAs closely for the term and what is an isn’t in scope. I tend to avoid in perpetuity NDAs, but that’s just me.

If something is or looks amiss, don’t sign. Talk to the recruiter or whoever is handling the paperwork at the contract company. I had a contract where there were two sets of paperwork because it turned out the contract was being paid out of two separate budgets at the hiring company, and it took a few days to untangle why I received what looked like duplicated paperwork for a rate way below what we talked about.

Working as a contractor

Unlike the FTE hiring process, you are unlikely to meet with people other than the hiring manager of the group you’ll be working in before you start working, so you’re walking into a culture you know nothing about. I’ve had managers and FTE coworkers treat me like a serf because I was a contractor. Balancing that out are the people who treated me as another FTE.

It’s important to remember you work for the contracting firm, not the company you work at, so if you’re experiencing interpersonal conflict you should talk to whoever is your account representative at your contract company.

You’ll also often be excluded from FTE-specific information and events. This can be a big plus, as it can insulate you from office politics. The downside is that you can get surprised by changes in direction that seem to come out of nowhere and have no context and it can suck when you have to work while the FTE team is off on a fun morale event. Also, you may often have more restrictive systems permissions, which can make getting some things done harder.

If you’ve been an FTE at a company that you’re now a contractor at, this status shift can be a big adjustment. There are too many other nuances to working as a contractor vs. FTE to cover here, so I’ll just say that when in doubt, fall back on the terms of SOW, your professional judgement, and your contracting company’s account manager.

In conclusion

I hope you’ve found this guide to contract work helpful! If it helps you in your employment journey and you’re feeling so inclined, maybe buy me coffee? 🙂

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Let’s Dance

If you tilt your head sideways and stare at history long enough, repeated patterns of human behavior pop out. They’re repeating sequences of erratic dance steps breaking out of the regular syncopated ebbs and flows of the dance of domestic life. They’re arguments, dance fights, over and about everything under and beyond the sun, communicated in body language.

They’re arguments over pedestrian stuff, like, “Should we have public garbage cans?”, which lead to conversations about rats, which lead to conversations about disease, which lead to conversations around hiring people to empty the cans and do public health, which lead to arguments over if we should pay for those things too, or are we going to make the residents responsible for their own garbage and disease outbreaks and fine them if it all gets out of hand, and if so, who gets the contract to haul bodies and garbage away and enforce the fines?

They’re arguments over heavy stuff, like, “Should we allow women to wear pants?”, which lead to arguments about who has ultimate liability when an insurance company denies a claim for a medical procedure on the justification it’s banned in one or more states. And the procedure is banned in those states because some of the people in those states think some medical care shouldn’t be provided to everyone because it’s against their religious teachings. They literally think it’s ok that everyone should bear the risk of dying die due to lack of medical care so as not to contravene the religious beliefs of a minority of people.

This is akin to falling over at a well-attended party from a heart attack and everyone just stands around watching you gasp for breath on the pretense that until you’re dead, you’re exercising the will of divine purpose bestowed by God instead of starting CPR and calling 911. It’s further the insurance company denying your death benefits to your family because you were wearing pants or a skirt, which is effectively illegal in some states based on the gender you were assigned at birth, and insurance doesn’t pay out for illegal acts. You know all those wacky arguments queers are always going on about and the slippery slope towards societal degeneracy? I told you, it all starts with women wearing pants.

They’re arguments over heavier things like, “Should we consider these people human?” The good news is that The United Fucking, I Can’t Believe It’s Not A Color-blind Society!, States of America has been unequivocal and crystal-clear on this point: it depends. This settled argument is proudly upheld and mirrored by most of our allies, who use it to justify state military power to kill non-humans within and without their borders.

They’re arguments over the weightiest things like, “Should we slaughter people based on their religion?” which, have of recent, turned into arguments over lands continuously inhabited since at least the late Paleolithic, when Homo Sapiens simultaneously slaughtered and fucked Homo Neanderthal down to caricatures used to sell things to “smart” sapiens. In a fractal skip down the timeline of history, human empires and cultures rise and fall, rise and fall, like tides and the military following the moon.

Arguments have whorled out of these wars, each a fiery vortex, towering flames spinning death across whole lands and peoples. And people have died and died and died and will die and die and die and are dying and dying and dying in these wars, in all their myriad pre-, during, and post- necrotizing horrors. So many souls returned to stardust along the lane of time, oceans of them, ground to a luster in the shifting tides of war and salted by tears from the heaving griefs of survivors left shipwrecked or adrift in time.

They’re the biggest arguments about the turtle carrying the world, echoing all the way down: “I have a rent-seeking idea I want to run past you.”

It’s arguments over who owns the air, the earth, the seas, the sky, and the other living things we share this planet with during the time we’re here. It’s arguments over extraction or consumption, disposability or sustainability, ownership or stewardship. It’s arguments about being apart from nature or a part of it.

At this moment in history, I believe it’s vitally important we multi-task up and down this spectrum of arguments, because I know fiery vortexes can be an evocative metaphor and a scientifically-accurate description of crown forest fires amplified by global warming. All this stuff is connected together.

All our irons are in the fire for these arguments, along with our hands and feet. The arguments are really about what we’re going to hammer all that iron into and if we’re going to take our extremities out or leave them in to be cooked.

Will we fashion weapons of economic domination and war, or durable, sustainable goods where durable is measured in decades instead of calendar quarters and sustainability looks like not poisoning or destroying the planet in the process?

Imagine giving every person on the planet a pot to piss in. Back of the cocktail napkin, and this is only a rough plan, we have nine billion people, times, let’s say a COGS of $3, plus delivery fees of, oof, this is a really hard one, so let’s ballpark that on the moon at $10 each, carry the two, and that’s $117 billion dollars. Litigation coverage and escrow costs will be astronomical, so let’s round that up to a tidy $200 billion to make the math easier.

$200 billion to make durable pots for everyone in the world to piss in instead of weapons and explosives. Seems like a win-win.

OK, so here’s the arbitrage play. Since we’d be buying a significant portion of the global metals market, we purchase spot and futures options for ore with invested funds for pennies on the dollar, synchronizing the purchase dates with firm shipping contract options that would feed a production plan. When the production plan becomes public, the option prices between our option dates will rise when the market realizes supply and capacity will be constrained. We sell our options at the inflated prices, and pocket the difference before the market deflates.

“But what about the pots and the $200 billion you need to make the pots?” you might ask.

“Pots? $200 billion?” I’d reply. “Oh, we don’t need to actually make the pots or raise that much money.

“We just need to pretend to make the pots and people will pay us to pretend to make them, but they won’t know we’re only pretending to make the pots. We just need enough money to prime the options pump, maybe a few tens of millions to make billions. People will probably get angry with us when they find out we won’t be making the pots.”

“So what you’re saying is…” as the dawning horror breaks.

“Exactly. They’re going to be pissed because they won’t be left with a pot to piss in!”

That is the type of shit we’re collectively up against and we need to get into formation.

Anyway, the last 50,000 years of humanity has given us a full dance card to dance all these arguments, and what a dance it’s been. We learned some moves when big things happened and we danced right through it all.

We danced through an Ice Age and a Big Melt. We danced in huge migratory waves of choice or force to and from all over the place. Who knows how many religions and languages choreographed their own steps before being swept away or into bigger dances? Art, agriculture, civilizations added a bunch of steps. Electricity, plastic, and the Internet added more.

A LOT of “Stuff” happened. A LOT A LOT A LOT.

So when I tilted my head sideways to look at the recent news, I saw the YOU’RE BEVING FORCIBLY EVICTED FROM HERE UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH dance step with both partners desperately trying to lead at the same time.

Certain sectors, like the white turtledoves they are, will tut-tut whatabout as they flail their hands in anger or relief at death turning up on now-vacant doorsteps. Whatthefuckaroundandfindoutabout them? You mean the ones that were forcibly evicted from their lands? You mean the ones that suffered genocide? Yes, let’s ask them. Let’s go ask every single one of those dead Carthaginians or any other culture buried in the sands of time or peoples plowed into the soil underneath strip malls and farmland all across the Americas and beyond.

When genocide, a berserker talisman word, is being shouted from many quarters, I always look around for the Neanderthals in those exchanges. Like the Carthaginians when the Romans destroyed Carthage and its people with the [paraphrased] catchphrase, “Carthage must be destroyed.” Make Rome Great Again, indeed.

What we are witnessing and living in are the waste products of evangelical corpocracy and corporate theocracy, forms of corporatism which have natural, mutually-reinforcing alignments around captured markets and eliminating competition. Further, they’re natural symbiotes and don’t even compete in the same market. One’s focused on ruling the physical world to grow concentrated wealth as monument to ego and the other on ruling the spiritual world to grow fields of souls as holy tribute.

From spiritual leaders preaching the prosperity gospel to tech gurus waiting to ascend into artificially intelligent toaster heaven after the next release, how much yellow of the sun and blue of the sky make up the green color of the plants they sowed now strangling us? What is the sound of one hand clapping? Why is finally being at peace death instead of life? Whom has Occam’s Razor cut up into little pieces today?

The Carthaginians were slaughtered block by block in urban fighting by the Romans after siege. This dance is older than cities. It goes back to dances performed in villages, hamlets, drainages, and beyond set to choruses of, “get out”, “go away”, and, “this is mine now.” It’s asserting property rights in the, “might makes right” sense.

It’s a gluttonous war dance being held across the infospace, literally dances with thumbs, each of us drawn into becoming combatants in the battlespace by dint of expressing opinions and beliefs for or against death. Each one an opposable thumb laid on the scales opposing critical thought and promoting propaganda.

If we see imploded heads or crumpled bodies from a kinetic event and we can’t trust what we see, what can be seen? What do we see when we sympathize with the trigger-pullers who maim and kill children? Which trigger-pullers who maim and kill children are we supposed to sympathize with? What don’t we see?

I see buckets of death poured into the fires of war. I have seen this so much, I have become inured, at a remote, clinical. I see others arguing over who has the right to pull triggers to maim and kill children, their bedlam words echoing endlessly in the abyss of noise and fury. It is too much death for me. Too much. I don’t know what to say about it. There are no fit words, only guttural cries to join the choruses of dirges that grow louder day by day.

I give salt to the ocean as I dance in circles with others, hoping to find myself somewhere new. But it’s always right back around to where I started and I throw my arms up in anger. This dance? Again!?

In my frustration, I take the ends of my arms and lay them down to type my opinions and beliefs to look at, grounded in life and optimism, not in the echoing calls for death or the fatalistic nihilism of hopelessness.

  • Everyone deserves to live in a world healthy enough to continue to provide for all of our descendants.
  • Everyone deserves a safe place to live, play, work, and sleep, free from harassment and fear.
  • Everyone deserves a source of clean water to drink.
  • Everyone deserves nourishing, flavorful food to eat.
  • Everyone deserves healthcare.
  • Everyone deserves education.
  • Everyone deserves love.
  • Everyone deserves acceptance.
  • Everyone deserves respect.
  • Everyone deserves a voice.
  • Everyone deserves an opportunity to become the best human they can be.
  • Everyone deserves to be taken care of when they can’t take care of themselves.
  • Everyone needs to understand that all these things are gifts of inheritance, not taxes, for being alive.
  • Everyone will need to practice their unique skills to help to build that world.

Cue the arguments about who “everyone” should include, “whatabout” the details, and “who’s going to pay for all that?”

They’re anathema to zero-sum, arbitrage-driven secular and religious corporatism, because determining if all their competitors deserve things like love, acceptance, food, and water is outside of their business models. They’re too focused on making money for the people who can afford those things, not how to make money bringing them to everyone, which ipso facto is a larger target market.

And this is exactly why we end up with overflowing public trash bins. There isn’t enough money to pay enough people to empty them more regularly and dispose the contents of them properly because the trash is full of contaminants. Where did the money go? It went into the privatized profits of land developers who socialized the trash bins and the corporations who pioneered disposable, plastic trash overflowing from those bins in front of the buildings that stand where a stand of trees used to be.

And now all of us now live in a shared, global trash fire of misplaced priorities and creeping and leaping death, each one bought and sold through policy and legislative carve-outs, each a nick in the body politic that bleeds revenue and lives. It’s profits and prophets before people and rewarding the transfer of the remaining shared, heritable wealth and hope of this ever-depleting, bleeding-out world from the public commons to private individuals.

They think the market play is to short peace and go long on war, and they haven’t been wrong.

They’re dancing that same old, tired dance. Those dances have us dancing on a cliff-edge to their war and profit drumming. But that doesn’t make it right. It doesn’t mean it can’t change, because it’s clear those dances aren’t up to the challenges of the times. Grab those drumsticks. Set a new beat. It’s time for a dance fight. We need new dances.

Dances of atonement. Dances of care. Dances of peace. Dances to cease fire. Dances of reconciliation. Dances to soothe. Dances of sharing. Dances of mutual support. Dances to restore. Dances for life. Dances to settle our arguments without resorting to trigger-pullers. Dances to make pots for everyone.

We need never-ending dances under the sun, the moon, the sky, and the stars on beaches next to oceans of time salted by tears of happiness and joy.

Let’s dance.

Onward to Azure Quantum

I’m thrilled to share I’m starting a new job this week in Microsoft’s Azure Quantum product group as a contractor through Simplicity Consulting. I’ll be helping Azure Quantum project-manage content and community, and I might get to do some writing along the way. This is a dream job for me because it takes me back to my science roots and dovetails with my writing, communications, and content management background.

As a kid, I wanted to be a scientist and attended the University of Washington to pursue a degree in chemistry. My long-term plans were to obtain a Ph.D. in physical or analytical chemistry and I saw myself performing basic research in a university environment. That…didn’t happen and I stumbled into a computer technology career instead.

But my love of and interest in science never waned and I’ve kept my eye on some fields as a layperson, and quantum computing has been one of them. I believe it’s in the zone of scaling from the small, specialist offerings available today to the scaled, generalized ubiquity of tomorrow. The last time I felt this way was when I judged the Internet was at a similar inflection point in 1994.

Last month, members of Microsoft’s Azure Quantum group published a peer-reviewed paper about creating decoherence-resistant topological qubits. (Decoherence is to quantum computers as noise is to classical computers.) This is a major milestone on the path to creating scaled quantum computers and I can’t be more excited to have a front-row seat to watch the future unfold.

“The future is already here – it’s just not evenly distributed.” – William Gibson

Onward!

Writing Roundup – 2022

I put a bunch of time and energy into my writing and submissions in 2022. I managed 52 submissions of 19 different manuscripts, a high-water mark, completed six new ones, and had my first fiction publications, The Usurious Mechanic and Through the Mirror. For these efforts, I earned a grand total of $318.93.

Based on the amount of time I estimate I spent writing, editing, and submitting, the hourly rate rounds down to about $1.50-$2.00/hour. That includes the time I spent putting words into and editing unfinished manuscripts.

I’m proud of these accomplishments. Of course I would have liked to have had more publications, earned more money, and completed more manuscripts, but given time constraints and life events in the fall and winter, I’m calling 2022 a win.

I had hoped to keep the momentum going in 2023, but I broke a bone in my foot in September and it was very painful and distracting, I was laid off from my job in Mid-December, and somewhere around November I came to see why maybe my other manuscripts weren’t selling and realized they needed rewriting.

Since I spent multiple weeks at the start of 2023 consumed with job searching, I didn’t have much mental bandwidth for writing, so this year is off to a slow start. It’s going to stay slow because of different life stuff and all the rewriting I need to do. I’m okay with that, because 2022 was a milestone year and helped me see where I have to up-level my craft.

I’m also using the slower pace to read more, which is critical to better writing, and to consider rewriting a couple of pieces as screenplays to see if I can get some traction there. When I write, I’m mostly trying to describe the 3D movie I see in my head anyway. Blacklist here I come?

If you haven’t, I’d appreciate it if you’d read my stories and drop me a line if you like them. (Don’t send authors negative reviews; we’re quite good at telling ourselves how bad our work is on our own without your help.) Through the Mirror is also available as a podcast if that’s your jam.

Farewell, Twitter

A screenshot of my first tweet on Twitter from my @kilbo account dated April 3, 2009. The text is, "Becoming a twit."

I’m done with Twitter and tweeted my last tweet in January 2023. Though I mourn the voices I’ve left behind, I celebrate the experience. While quitting Twitter cold-turkey has been rough, the time I used to spend on it has shifted to other activities, like reading, and I’m less anxious about world events–both positive outcomes.

With its global reach and endless ways to slice, fork, and forward conversations, Twitter always reminded me of USENET. It also shared a similar community dynamic of direct, unfiltered conversations with world- and lesser-famous experts in their fields while bad actors and idiots derailed things through malice and ignorance.

Twitter at its best kept me connected to friends, colleagues, and acquaintances, delivered nuanced and broad viewpoints on any topic that caught my eye, alerted me to important breaking news, educated me, and provided virtual communities to discuss the topics I was most interested in. At its worst, it was a catalyst to amplify the horrible behavior and voices of fascists, racists, bigots, misogynists, transphobes, and other dregs of humanity.

The good parts enabled me to curate lists of astronomers, astrophysicists, ichthyologists, writers, geologists, and local journalists, all discussing happenings in their fields along with a corresponding steady stream of amazing pictures. Automated Twitter bots delivered me pictures from the edge of the universe, the outer and inner solar system, the tops of mountains and the bottoms of oceans, and forests and deserts. Other bots sent me earthquake alerts and reports, first responder information, weather forecasts and warnings, gentle reminders to take care of myself, and my favorite bots, the just for fun ones like icon aquariums and meadows, hourly photos of lizards, and esoteric art.

The worst parts had me block hundreds of accounts and keywords in order to filter out hate and emotionally insulate myself from seeing endless, echoing reports of singular, tragic events. There were also people who were just fine with insulting or threatening me for daring to share or hold an opinion that was at variance with theirs.

Using filters and lists curated through the wonderful third-party app I used, Tweetbot, I had hammered Twitter into a community and information conduit that was mostly pleasant to interact with and minimized the negative bits. I was never a prolific tweeter, clocking in at over seventeen thousand tweets over almost fourteen years.

But then a billionaire asshole bought Twitter at the end of 2022. That sale prompted me to delete most of my tweets before the deal closed. I set up an auto-delete bot to purge tweets older than a month and I ramped down my tweeting. My intent was to add a minor speedbump to access my account data on the platform by putting the bulk of it into offline backups.

On January 12, 2023, third-party Twitter apps were disabled, which was the only way I interacted with Twitter. I haven’t tweeted since. That the asshole owner continues to exhibit behavior and espouse and amplify opinions from the worst side of Twitter makes them anathema to me and reinforces my decision. I can’t in good conscience provide my content or passive participation for them to monetize. It’s the “no assholes” rule in action.

I’ve looked at Mastodon as a replacement and I’m not convinced it’s a step forward instead of a step sideways and back so I’m holding off for now. Its architecture is similar to USENET with its distributed servers, each with separate content policies and admins. I was uneasy with the situation back then and it wasn’t until I set up my own server with my own domain and policies that I felt more secure in my participation. Mastodon falls into the same bucket for me and I have no desire to be a server admin again.

I remain hopeful Twitter crashes financially and is sold in a fire sale to better owners who will restore third-party API access with a subscription fee. I’d pay for that. I’m not holding my breath.

Farewell, my Tweeps, farewell.