On having a barebones website

This has been my website since over three months now:

A friend looked at it and said, “There’s nothing in here.”

Actually, there’s everything in there that needs to be. As a writer, what better function could my website serve than lead people to my words?

Why would I include social media icons when my actual work lives on my two linked blogs? Why display options to follow my blogs when you haven’t even read a thing yet? Along the same lines, what’s the point of having a Donate link here? Why show a brief bio when the text on blog buttons suffice? Any of these relevant pieces of information and actions already exist in contextually relevant places on my blogs in as much detail and nuance as needed.

Sure, many people will simply not explore my website further because it's too bland. And that’s alright. Not everything needs to be relevant to everyone, which otherwise seems to be the only mode of operation of every new Internet product these days. But among people who do find themselves curious enough to click through, they seem to be (based on bulk stats) actually reading my work, subscribing, reaching out, and forming legit connections. That’s ultimately the only thing that matters as far as my internet presence is concerned.

Not every website, every profile and every CV needs to be glamorous, have animations all over, link to social icons for pseudo-celebrity feels, or even be “modern”—all to grab seemingly the entire Internet's attention. Sometimes you can simply let your work speak, and those who want to hear it will.

This design and mode of thinking about my Internet presence has been partly inspired by Manu the human and the post Brutalist Web Design by Carl Barenbrug.