
Le plan
Seven or eight papers in twelve months (from second Saturday of May 2026 to second Saturday of May 2027). Not magnum opus material. Not field-shifting. Just published.
The instinct comes from the old Italian school and the early quantum generation, who treated publication as a working habit, not a coronation. Before the masterpieces, there were warm-up exercises:
Einstein: 5 papers before 1905: two on intermolecular forces, three on statistical mechanics; what Pais later called "warming-up exercises."
Dirac: 7 papers in his first year and a half at Cambridge (1924–1925), on statistical mechanics, relativity dynamics, and Compton scattering, before his November 1925 reformulation of Heisenberg launched the quantum mechanics decade.
Fermi: roughly 30 short papers between 1921 and 1925 in Nuovo Cimento, Rendiconti Lincei; before the 1926 paper on quantum statistics that made his name.
None of them sat on drafts waiting for the masterpiece. The masterpieces came out of the rhythm of finishing.
A short note clearing up a calculation. A worked example. A counter-case. A pedagogical reframing. They wrote because writing was thinking finished, and finished thinking was meant to circulate. The mythology that every paper must be a landmark is a postwar invention, and a bad one. It selects for fewer papers, longer gestation, more anxiety, less science.
So: quasi-trivialities welcome. The point is to publish, repeatedly, in real venues, and to develop the muscle of finishing.