He was awakened by the clang of the soup gal banging chopped chicken parts into a foamy broth on a hot Hanoi morning.
He looked around and saw the calm, completely knocked out presence of his partner as he scanned over to the desk with his laptop. The little light was breathing in response so he closed his eyes again as sweat dripped down to his ear.
"What am I doing? - I had a clear vision, I built a working product - - then.
It's the heat. It's got to be the heat. I want the users of 200words to feel a similarly thick oppression caused by this swelter. It's closing me in. My creativity is smashed to oblivion.
How could I create a user experience that sucks as bad as waking up with a sticky ballsack and the buzz of mosquitoes?
Hmmm.. what if…
What if I take the existing French-countryside, blue-sky sensation of open and abundant free-writing with a fresh breeze and lovely clouds floating by and smash it into a 1990s text editor that makes you feel like you're scribbling wrong-handed on the back of an inside-out cereal box as you're jolted along a bumpy path on the back of an ox-drawn wagon taking boxes of stinky-fuckin' chickens to market?
I'll try it.
-- Made in Hanoi with 😆