Overview

So there I was, an attendee at the 1991 USENIX Technical Conference, strolling the halls of Nashville's Opryland Hotel, reveling in the grandiose luxury of that country music citadel, picking my way through the crowds, hoping to happen upon someone famous, and basking in the satisfaction of having just signed a publishing contract.

Things had gone extremely well. My proposal for a book on the Unix philosophy was accepted without hesitation. ("So many people need to read this book.") Contract negotiations went smoothly. ("I'd like n dollars for an advance." "Okay, you've got it.") A reasonable deadline had been set. ("We'll give you an extra couple of months to make it easier on you.") You couldn't have asked for a better situation.

To tell the truth, I was scared to death. After getting over the initial enthusiasm of signing up to author a book on a topic I'd been harping on for years, I ran headlong into a reality that I was mentally unprepared for: I now had to write the darn thing.

My past writing experience consisted of pumping out features for a regional entertainment magazine. I'd learned how to string words together. I knew about topic sentences, action verbs, and the use of passive voice. I could hook a reader and keep him interested. However, writing magazine articles only made me a great sprinter. Now it was time to run the marathon.

The first thing I did was sprint to a friend for advice. An author...