After My Cancer Diagnosis, I Decided to Build 100 Apps

Last year, a doctor handed me a report with the words "thyroid cancer" on it. The prognosis wasn't good. "Possible distant metastasis," he said.

When your life is suddenly given a blurry but definite finish line, clarity arrives like a lightning strike. You no longer have time for grand narratives—the ambition to "change the world" or build the "next big thing." All your time and energy, every last drop of it, must be spent on what is essential.

So I made a plan for myself. It sounds a little crazy.

I am going to build 100 apps.

This isn't a story about a programming genius pushing his limits. Nor is it a guide on how to get rich quick. This is a story about how, when life gets compressed, one person can choose to fight back against the void with the simple act of creation.

The Strategy: Why 100 Small Apps, Not One Big Bet

Most people would ask, "Why not focus all your energy on one perfect product? One viral hit?"

Because my time won't allow me to gamble.

Building a blockbuster app is like playing the lottery. It requires talent and hard work, but more than anything, it requires luck you can't control. It demands a relentless cycle of fundraising, scaling, marketing, and chasing trends. That process would drain me of my most precious and finite resource: my mental and physical energy.

My strategy is the exact opposite. I call it "Volume Over Virality."

I'm not planting one giant redwood that needs a decade of careful nurturing to bear fruit. Instead, I'm planting a forest of 100 small, resilient shrubs.

They are anti-fragile. If one or two die, the forest remains. The failure of any single app has zero impact on the health of the entire system.

They grow passively. Each small app solves one specific, long-tail problem. It doesn't need constant watering (marketing) from me. Its inherent value allows it to quietly attract the few people who need it in the vast wilderness of the App Store, generating a small but steady stream of income.

They are a system. When 100 apps each bring in a few dollars a month, they combine to form an income system that sustains itself without my constant intervention.

This system is the fortress of "anti-fragility" I am building for myself. It doesn't chase explosive growth. It seeks ultimate stability and sustainability.

The Craft: My Three Unbreakable Rules for Building

To make this strategy work, every app I build must follow three iron-clad rules. They might sound like commercial suicide, but they are my principles for survival.

1. One App, One Purpose.

My apps are brutally simple. A file search tool does nothing but search, and it does it faster than anything else. A tool to help video creators storyboard an idea does nothing but generate storyboards. There is no project management, no social features, no fluff.

I relentlessly cut any non-essential function. More features mean higher maintenance costs and a heavier cognitive load on the user. My goal isn't for users to "love" my app; it's for them to "use it and leave." Solve the problem with maximum efficiency, then get back to your life.

2. Offline-First, Data is Yours.

The core function of every app I make must work perfectly without an internet connection. More importantly, 100% of a user's data is stored on their own device. I never touch it. I have no interest in user data, and I run no servers to upload it to.

This is both a sign of respect for my users and an act of self-preservation. It frees me from the complexities of backend development, privacy regulations, and server maintenance. It minimizes my energy expenditure.

3. Pay Once, Own It Forever.

I don't do subscriptions. I will never run ads. My business model is as old-fashioned and honest as it gets: if you find this tool useful, you pay a small, one-time fee, and it is yours forever.

This is an honest transaction. It filters out non-serious users and leaves me with a core group who genuinely value the work. It also means I don't have to harass my users with notifications, red dots, and other growth-hacking garbage designed to keep them "engaged."

The Philosophy: More Than Code, It's a Way of Surviving

This "100 App Challenge" has become something more than just code and commerce.

It is an act of focus. In a world of information overload, it is a deliberate choice for "less is more." I practice minimalism in my products and in my life, focusing all my resources on what truly matters.

It is an act of control. I control my code, my product, and my time. There is no boss, no venture capitalist, no KPI. The fruits of my labor belong entirely to me. This is a freedom from the alienation that plagues so much of modern work.

And most importantly, it is an act of defiance.

When the decay of my body is inevitable, I choose to counter it with creation. Every function I write, every app I ship, is proof that I was here. I cannot control the length of my life, but I can choose its density.

I don't know how many I'll end up finishing. Maybe 50. Maybe only 20. It doesn't matter.

What matters is that within my countdown, I have found my battleground.

To replace waiting with creating.

To dispel anxiety with action.

This is my story. The survival strategy of an independent developer, working under life's strictest constraint.