Indie Hacker Diaries #14: On Being Arrogant About Your Ideas

Back around 2018, I got the itch to build my own SaaS.

I’d built several for others up until that point, but successfully, only one other for myself before that (Proper—a tool for helping freelancers to manage their client projects). Part of the itch came from a desire to build something outside of my daily mentorship sessions at Clever Beagle, part of it was a desire to tap into a revenue stream that didn’t need my constant attention.

The idea I had was to build a “mega dashboard” for SaaS apps called Command. It would help you track revenue, track and talk to customers, monitor analytics/metrics, and send marketing emails.

It was...a doozie.

But, much to my surprise, I managed to build it. Run time? 2 years.

In that time, I had convinced myself that I had “cracked it.” I had a solution to the endless barrage of subscriptions that SaaS founders had to deal with. But, in my own arrogance, I blinded myself to a harsh truth: the way I built the features wasn’t great—what I now refer to as a “monument to engineering”—and my marketing was non-existent. That meant that I had a working product, but, an unclear value proposition.

Even worse, I started to doubt myself. Right when I finished the product, as I came up against negative feedback (confusion from potential customers), I panicked. Instead of taking the feedback and mulling it over, I made a snap decision to make two fatal errors:

• I rebranded an un-launched product (which included a redesign).
• I completely changed the product’s focus.

What I thought I was doing was simplifying the product and making the value proposition clearer, but again, instead of swimming in Caribbean waters, I was knee-deep in the Florida swamps. Chomp.

Again, I was met with confusion and then, self doubt.

Rather quickly (if memory serves, ~3 months), I decided to shelve the product. I realized I was high on my own supply and needed a big heaping spoonful o’ humility.

That experience wasn’t totally fruitless. Part of why it took me 2 years to build the product was fighting with technical issues, getting into weekly fights with React and GraphQL gotchas. Similar to the first SaaS I built (Proper, which inspired me to start The Meteor Chef), it inspired me to work on something else.

The something else? Joystick.

Now that Joystick is approaching a stable 1.0 release, I’ve decided to put it through the paces and build a new SaaS.

This time, I decided to go against most of my pre-conceived notions. The product is all but done, with a total clock time of ~3 weeks to build. I used Mod, the CSS framework I’ll be releasing soon and made a point to aggressively limit the feature set.

I also did something I’ve never done before: followed a trend.

The app is called Parrot (follow @codewithparrot on Twitter/X for updates). It’s a tool that helps developers keep track of their existing code snippets and use AI to generate new ones (backed by their own coding preferences). It also auto-generates snippet files for your IDE (at launch, it will have support for VSCode and Sublime Text) and automatically backs up your snippets to a Github repo.

Instead of implementing a fancy auth system, I just used Github login. Instead of coming up with a complex UI, I kept it simple. Very little custom UI (I mostly used Mod components) and no fancy UX. Just what was necessary to get the idea out the door. If it works? I’ll iterate.

And this is what I really wanted to share with you this week: the importance of recognizing your own arrogance, learning to keep things simple, and looking at what you’re working on as a bet and not a proof of your Limitless Genius.

Some things I’ve learned over the years:

• To put it bluntly: nobody gives a shit. Realize that most people have their own products they’re working on, their own lives, etc. You may think you’re inches away from stardom, but really, you’re just like every other schlub trying to make it.
• Your v1 should be dirt-simple. You don’t need a fancy UI. You don’t need animations. You don’t need that fancy package that adds transitions when you type in the Konomai Code. You just need a working product.
• You should move as fast as your skill set allows. If you’re still learning how to build stuff and need to move slow as a result, that’s perfectly fine. But if you have the adequate skills to ship something simple, you should do it. You don’t have to “move fast and break things,” but you shouldn’t procrastinate. Like I’ve said to many of you reading as your mentor “just build the damn thing.”
• Be optimistic about your prospects, but don’t get convinced of a potential success. Anticipate failure, first, and keep yourself humble. It’s okay to imagine a “what if” you strike oil (good even, for the sake of planning ahead), but you want to temper that thinking as soon as you start getting haughty about it.
• Focus on iteration over shipping the finished statue. The advantage to writing code—especially on the web—is that you can change thing relatively fast. Sure, you might have a grand vision, but roll it out incrementally. Don’t waste a year building all-the-features. You run the risk of missing the target entirely and building a behemoth that nobody wants (or understands).

In case you’re wondering: yes, I’m still fighting myself on these things. It’s a process. You’re not a bad founder/indie hacker if you slip on some of the above from time to time. I certainly do.

But you should be thinking about how you’re approaching your work. Know when you’re getting a little too high on your own supply and when it may be time to step away and reflect.

Looking back on how I built Command (which later became Hypothesis), I realized that I’d wasted an incredible amount of time, all because I was convinced I was right. The harsh reality is that I’ll never get those two years back.

Sure, I learned a lot and some good things came out of it, but the most valuable thing it taught me was to not fall in love with your ideas. Build it ASAP, ship it, and then iterate if (and only if) you see some hints of interest. In the even that nobody seems to want it?

Kill your darling.

More about Parrot next week,
Ryan