Dear 43 Things Users,

10 years after introducing 43 Things to the world, we have decided we have met our last goal: completing the incredible experience that has been 43 Things. Please join us in giving one last cheer to all the folks who have shared their goals with the world, as well as all the people who have worked at The Robot Co-op to build this incredible website. We won a Webby Award, published a book, and brought happiness to a lot of people.

Starting today, 43 Things users can export their goals and entries from the site. Starting August 15, we will make the site “read only”. 43 Things users will still be able to view the site and export their content, but we won’t be taking any new content from users. We hope to leave the site up for folks to see and download their content until the end of the year. Ending on New Year’s Eve takes us full circle.

It has been a long ride (one of our original goals was to "build a company that lasts at least 2 years” - we beat that one!) While we wish the site could live on, it has suffered from a number of challenges - changes in how people use the site, the advertising industry, and how search engines view the site. We wish the outcome was different – but we’ve always been realistic about when our goals are met and when they aren't.

As of today, you will be able to download your goals and entries. See more about that on the FAQ page. Thanks for 10 great years of goal-setting and achieving.

- The Robots.

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FAQ

Inkie in Inkiewiz.wordpress.com is doing 24 things including…

have a poem published in the New Yorker (or anywhere, really; or actually, just write with some frequency)

8 cheers

 

Inkie has written 5 entries about this goal

Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck.

So, my laptop died. I took it to CompUSA, and grabbed what I could off it before the battery died – they can’t guarantee they won’t wipe your drive – but I didn’t get all of my writing. Not the pages and pages of quotes I collected so laboriously for my dad, nor the poems I secreted over the years at the rate of stalagmites. Not sure I have any other copies.

Is there a saint of writing, or language or creativity? Should I just go ahead and say a novena to my favoritest saint – St. Jude, patron saint of lost causes? Or should I hold off and save him for bigger worries that may come down the pike?



Ironic

I’ve just published a book, and didn’t write a word in it. Ah, the editor’s life.

But my name’s in there, in very small print. Hurrah.



Yay! Wrote!

Nearly finished a short piece (gamer’s alphabet: e.g. “L is for Leet”, with a short blurb for each entry), and wrote some notes for a short story.



Maybe I should revise this ...

... to “get published.”

At least I’m pounding out the words in writing group.



I don't know why the New Yorker ...

... but I feel like having a poem published there would be It. Maybe because I grew up reading the cartoons, eventually noticed there were poems, and from there worked my way up to the articles. It’s just been a part of my life for so long.



Inkie has gotten 8 cheers on this goal.

 

I want to:
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