Should DRY apply to all writing?

Does anyone else have this problem?

When I think to write, be it a post, a tweet, or definitely for a longer essay... I'm plagued by a line of thinking that I carry over from my life in software:

Don't Repeat Yourself (DRY)

Which shows itself in bodies of code, literally trying to eliminate EVERY restatement, simply referring to the "one and only one" place that holds the only block that does that thing.

Or, the question I always when imagining (architecting) systems to be built:

is there an existing library that solves this? Never write your own tool when you can support an existing project.

And that question itself comes from an instinctual reaction to fight against the (NIH) Not Invented Here syndrome. I watch development funds wasted so often when people simply don't look outside their team for existing libraries, packages and such.

and... with all this habit deeply ingrained... I find myself finding other great essays (posts, comments) that already say the thing I had just been thinking to contribute.

A few friends have reminded me that that shouldn't apply to arts and letters in quite the same way. Because voice matters; that the way i say it, the stories i use, add aspects to the already existing writing on someone else's part.

So... at the risk of overspeaking... I'll be writing more. Watch this space. :)

What is an Agile Coach?

As I talk with various groups about what I can offer, what I want to do in my next gig (do we ever stop answering the "what do you want to be when you grow up" question?), I find myself explaining this ALL the time:

What Is an Agile Coach

I think Barry ​Hawkins answers it very well.  :)

And it describes me pretty much to a 'T'.  Many many teams, projects and a variety of startups in a variety of industries.  All of which leads to a significant humility and an aversion to dogma.  :)  Give it a read.  I think you'll enjoy!​

The power of REJOICING

So, it's remarkable how much changes over the years.

There was a time when my ambitions drove me to want credit, to claim glory, in anything I could in any way show my involvement.  I needed people to see that I was responsible for things.  Indeed, I used to use that as the example for what motivated me in software.  That scratchy clip at the end of the "X-Files" was my touchstone:  "I made this!" says the little boy's voice.

Somehow, though, after years of startups and products, coding to managing and back to coding, things changed.

Now I'm far more excited by the accomplishments of those around me.  It means more to me when someone that I've mentored, or affected in some way, succeeds and does well.  I can see the threads of ideas we've woven together.  I can see the blooming of seeds planted.  And I rejoice in those successes.

No striving or clawing... it's more fulfilling rejoicing in my friends and colleagues.