Finishing a theory

I've been working on a theory of emotion called Eristics.

Recently, I've considered it finished. I'm not sure what that means. It's perhaps a protest against thinking of new ideas within the theory.

Seriously, I'm sick of it. Go away!

Why do I have such a desire to consider the theory finished? Mostly it's because I'm tired of rewriting the book.

Writing is an excellent vehicle to push a philosophical theory forward. It keeps you from hand-waving away problems. It keeps you from ignoring blind spots. When it's on the page, it's there, staring you in the face, advertising its flaws.

Eristics is a very inter-woven theory, which treats emotions as the core component of experience and, crucially, as arguments. It tries to explain why we feel the things we do. Not all of the explanations worked at first. But I still put it to the page.

I put it to the page six times. First it was a handbook. Now it feels more like a textbook. Should it even be a book? I'm not sure.

Right now it's a system, and an idea, and a personality test, and a book. A work in progress, anyway. (The book! Not the theory.)