Robert Standefer

I love fatalistic blog post titles.
I have been brewing an idea in my head for a couple of months, since early October. The idea has germinated in my mind, growing from high concept (“It’s a site that does x“) to more detailed (“It’s a site that does x so you can y“) to pretty fleshed out (“It’s a site that brings together z so you can y and get x“). Or something like that.
But like all great ideas, mine sat in my head or served as dinner conversation for my bored friends. When the idea reached critical mass–that is, when I wished the application existed so I could actually use it–I knew I was really on to something. I decided to actually make my idea a real thing.
So I began to plan. And plan. And plan. I acquired hosting. I acquired tools. I set up source control. I set up issue tracking, and features tracking, and installed all the software I needed. I set up a separate development machine. I organized my home office to support my work. Once I got everything set up, I took a step back and admired creation: “Wow,” I said. “Look what I did.”
Which, of course, means absolutely nothing, because I’m in the business of creating software, and I hadn’t created a single bit of anything.
I don’t have a database design. I don’t have an architecture. Until a week ago, I waffled on ASP.NET webforms versus ASP.NET MVC. I had a host set up for a month before I canceled it in favor of another who offers URL rewriting, so at least I made a sound design decision there. My Visual Studio project has my web site project in it with empty code files. I have nothing.
In my rush to get everything squared away to support the development of my idea, I failed to actually do any development. Sure, it was necessary to get things in order: source control is vital, the database needs to be up and running, and so on. But that configuration is where I directed my initial project passion, and now that it’s complete, I have a false sense of accomplishment. In a way, I almost have to start over. I have to rekindle the passion for my project and direct the efforts into the actual creation.
Fortunately, I was able to realize what was going on before I let my idea enter the world of “I should have worked on that more,” like so many other ideas. I think my project has real value and if I invest the time and energy it requires, it could become something very wonderful.