Showing posts with label organizing for writers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label organizing for writers. Show all posts

30 Deadly-Effective Ways to Free Up Bits, Drips & Gimungously Vast Swaths of Time for Writing

Where do you find the time? (Was it hiding in the crawlspace?) It’s not so much finding time as it is prying your physical presence and attention away, either permanently or for a spell, from someone, something, someplace less valuable to you—if you really do want to write, that is, not just pretend and fantasize and gripe. Herewith, 30 ideas some of which might make you shake your head, but some just might work for you. For me, most of these have always been no-brainers, but I confess, a number of them took me awhile to recognize and/or fully appreciate.

1. Give up TV. Just give it up, deep-freeze turkey & freekin' forever and oceans of time, vast and sparkling, shall spread before ye. 


2. Cut the digital leash, the crackberry, whatever you want to call that soul-sucking hypnotic thumb-twiddler. The price of this is that you must therefore continually combat tidal waves of exasperation from loved ones and others that you are not instantly and always available to them. Find the humor in this. Because really, how blazingly ridiculous.


3. No drugs. 
Duh. And I include prescription drugs here, too. Exercise, eat lots of vegetables, drink raw juice, meditate… do whatever you possibly can to avoid adult onset diabetes and joint issues and so having to take drugs, for aside from suffering from lousy side effects, you'll waste countless hours waiting for doctors to write prescriptions, then getting them filled at the pharmacy, dealing with insurance, and complications, and so on & so forth. 

4. Reduce, better yet eliminate, or at least make use of your commute. 
If you can possibly live closer to where you need to be during the day, even if you have to sell half your furniture to fit into a smaller place, do that. Otherwise, try to get into the habit of writing while commuting. I hear some people have been able to do that. I admire them genuinely.

5. No drama. Mantra: not my circus, not my monkeys. If you relish fighting / debating / gossiping because you find it entertaining, that's your writing mojo leaking like water onto the asphalt. Incessant worrying about other people's problems that are not yours to solve is also silly. You can be aware, you can be concerned, you can be compassionate, and when they are your problems, then they are your problems.


6. No ruminating over the past.  
Regrets, nostalgia, whatever, writing gets done in the now.

7. Less fantasizing about the future. 
Again, writing gets done in the now.

8. Quit nursing grudges against editors / agents / other writers / 
reviewers / readers. Oh, the injustices of the literary world! These can vacuum up untold hours with yammering in workshops, at conferences, and over sad and grumbly cups of coffee. But listen here: the so-called gatekeepers and the clueless readers and half-literate kids glued to their handheld devices, they’re just doing the best they can, too. So are the peasants wading through their rice paddies in Burma. You are luckier than a lottery-winner to even be able to write at all. So strive to always improve and write for those who appreciate what you do, knowing that, of course, even if you one day win the Nobel Prize, only the teensiest portion of the population of Planet Earth will have heard of you, never mind actually read anything you wrote. Bottom line: If you can’t stay focused on doing your own best work, you’re not writing, you’re back to ruminating.

9. Stop picking up the telephone. As Marie Antoinette might have put it, Let them send email. If you can, pay for an unlisted number and caller ID and change your telephone number at least every other year. If that little click to voice mail distracts you, why, just unplug it! And, pourquoi pas? Fling it out the window!


10. Eliminate recreational shopping, aka "retail therapy." Whew, this one adds up over a season, a year, two years. So never, ever shop in stores or on-line or in fact anywhere anytime without your list. If an item is not on your list, do not buy it. Shopping malls are time- and money-gobbling maws and believe it, the marketers, watching your every move on their cameras, are more sophisticated than you think you are. Not only does recreational shopping squander prime writing time, but it tends to fill up your house with clutter-- a time-suck in itself. Go to a park, a museum, a library, the seashore, a basketball court, have fun and refresh yourself as necessary, but stay way away from the maw. I mean, mall. 

11. Do not accumulate a large and varied wardrobe based on navy, brown and/or beige. And better yet, give all that away to Goodwill. If you wear clothing that is black and/or coordinates with black, you'll be able to make fewer shopping trips, pack faster, and do far less laundry and dry cleaning. And since black makes colors "pop," your blue sweater, say, will appear brighter. Yet another advantage: black makes you look slimmer.  (Ha, maybe I was a Jesuit in my last life.)

12. Cancel the manicure. 
Horrendous time sink there. Plus, the polish is toxic and it flakes. (Nobody notices or cares about your fingernails anyway except manicurists, I guess, and those who get manicures themselves. Last I checked, they aren't getting much writing done.)

13. Quit following the stock market on a daily basis. This is a tick-like habit that achieves nothing but a heightened sense of anxiety. On par with spectator sports.

14. Quit playing computer games. 
On par with drugs. Or any other addiction. Including following the stock market on a daily basis.

15. Reduce Facebook and Twitter time. 
Of course, these can be useful for keeping in touch and promoting one's books and events, but like Burger King, best indulged in rarely and only of dire necessity or unavoidable human frailty. Almost, but not quite on par with computer games.

16. Ignore spectator sports. 
Do not attend games, do not watch or listen to or otherwise follow games, do not discuss games, and whole weekends for writing will emerge from the sea of froth. 

17. Do not indulge in expensive, time- and space-consuming activities such as, oh, say, collecting and expounding upon various types of fermented grape juice. Come on, folks, once it goes into a carafe, 99% of your guests won't know the difference between one chablis and the next chardonnay. Pick a reasonable brand and stick with it, white and red. For me, it's Monte Xanic-- or else it goes into the pot for coq au vin.


18. No more hauling laundry. You've got to get your clothes clean so, failing a maid to do it for you, get a washer / dryer for your house or apartment. If you do not have space, if it's not allowed, or you cannot afford this, then consider a portable washer/dryer because hauling bags to the laundro-mat or down to the basement only to find the machines full, that is one woolly mammoth of a time suck. (If you're paying for each load at a landro-mat, you might find it cheaper in the long run to use your own portable washer. I wouldn't know, since I'm fortunate enough to have a washer/dryer, but a little bird told me...)


19. Never hunt for your keys / wallet / purse / cell phone. This is an easy fix. The moment you step in the door, you always, always put them in the same place, a designated hook or a bowl or a basket. This might seem minor, but those two to ten minutes of running around with your hair on fire add up.

20. Never hunt for Internet passwords (or wait for the "resend password" email). Keep track of passwords, some way, somehow. I use Grandma's recipe box-- deemed seriously uncool on the Cool Tools blog, but it works beautifully for me and, so they tell me after reading that infamous blog post, many of my friends. (So there.)

21. No boat. Do not ever even shop for a boat. Do not even think about shopping for a boat. Unless you plan to sell your house and live in the boat. Ditto RV, camping equipment, or motorcycle. And anyway, you cannot live in your motorcycle. If you like to go out overnight into nature, check out Mike Clelland’s Ultralight Backpacking Tips. (Watch out, though, he features a link to his UFO page.)


22. No second home. On par with the boat. No, worse.

23. Stop buying loads of soft drinks and bottled water. Take into account the time it takes to shop for them, carry them to the car, lug them out of the car, store them somewhere in the pantry or the fridge, then recycle the bottles and cans… Drip, drip, drip goes your time (and money). A good water filter will pay for itself and quickly.

24. Prepare your meals with mis-en-place. Even when making a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich, it sure does help to do mis-en-place. If you hate cooking, you probably never heard of the mis. Check it out. (If you want to keep it easy by microwaving everything or relying on take-out, see #3 above.) 


25. Take email seriously. In other words, stop letting it pile up and become a giant, throbbing source of lost opportunities, embarrassment and guilt. 
Email is vital for a writer-- as vital as letter writing in days of yore, so do it well. This also means get quick-on-the-draw to delete spam.
 > My Super Simple Tally-trick to Zap the Backlog and Find the Joy (Yes, Joy) in Email.
Dear Pope Francis….

26. Use a "bucket" for all your to do lists and ideas. In other words, quit trying to keep everything from next week's dentist appointment to the ideas for your novel in your head. I use David Allen’s Getting Things Done (GTD) system and thereby free up great jazzy swaths of short term memory for more creative work. (One day I may set up a little altar in a corner of my office to St. Allen.) For me, a Filofax is an indispensable tool for implementing GTD.

>Listen to this podcast of November 6, 2013 about the GDT method for creative people. (I couldn't find the direct link; you may need to scroll down for it once you land on that page.)

27. Keep your closet decluttered and organized. Clutter not only makes it difficult to find things when you need them, it pulls and yanks and pinches your attention to decisions you haven't made (like, whether to get rid of that old mustard-colored shirt, but which might maybe go with something, or sew back on the two missing buttons?) So you're rushed and addled, right at the start of the day. It all adds up over a week, a month...

28. Fie to piles. 
Piles are sinkholes of chaos and, to pile on another mongrel of a metaphor, they tend to sprout and ooze all over the place like fungi. (Yeah, did that need an editor.) Any time you need to do anything important, pay taxes, file a claim, send out a manuscript, if you have to paw and dig through piles to find what you need you will add possibly hours, possibly days, possibly weeks or even months to the process-- not to mention a walloping dollop of time-sucking anxiety. So get a filing cabinet, even if it has to be a cardboard box, and make proper, labeled files, and dagnabbit, file things.

29. Let go of things you won't use but someone else might. This might sound strange as a source of time for writing, but think about it: any clutter, anywhere, becomes a drag on your time and attention. So all those old winter coats, faded towels, mismatched dishes, clothes than haven't fit for 10 years, overflows of flower vases, toys… For heavenssakes, sell that stuff, gift it, and/or make regular runs to Goodwill or the like. (But remember, trying to sell it will take up your time.) As my favorite estate lady Julie Hall puts it, "the hearse doesn't have a trailer hitch." 


Update-- on Cool Tools 12/12/14: 

“My top recommendation for the holidays is the Kindle of Marie Kondo’s The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing ($10). A one-time Shinto shrine maiden, Kondo bases her “KonMari” method on the assumption that one’s house and all the objects in it have consciousness but, boy howdy, even if you’re a die-hard materialist, follow her method and you’ll zoom to a wiggy new oxygen-rich level of tidy.” — C.M. Mayo



And last but far from least:


30. Remember your pen and notebook. Always, except in, say, a swimming pool, keep these on your person; you never know when the muse may whisper. What I'm saying is, some of the most valuable writing time arrives in snatches-- while you're standing in the dog park, about to get out of the car, riding an elevator, etc. In other words, you might not have been planning to write, but write you do because write you can.



> Your COMMENTS always welcome. And if you'd like to receive my newsletter, I welcome you to opt-in here.

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My latest book: 

My Super Simple Tally Trick to Zap the Backlog and Find the Joy (Yes, Joy) in Email

Star Wars notebook
Available from Paper Source
Really! I am not kidding!

Back in 2009, and especially in 2010, I started to fall seriously behind, as in gasping under a Niagara, with my email. Now I know just about everybody who uses email is behind-- it's the phenomenon of our time, as Jenna Wortham's piece in Sunday's New York Times points out, but in my case it was caused by a perfect storm (and, I later realized, my neglecting to keep track of net flows-- more about that in a moment).

In 2009, my novel, The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire, was out and being heavily promoted (including coast to coast book tour-- it's especially tough to keep up on the road) and then, in 2010, when it came out in Spanish, same story, and all at the same time that my dad fell ill. So not only was that couple of years crammed with traveling and distraction (massive) but my dad managed a high-traffic website about POW research and he had a gargantuan number of correspondents himself, so when he passed away in late 2010, and left a book ready to be edited (by Linda Goetz Holmes, bless her heart) and published (by Naval Institute Press), there fell upon me yet another avalanche of email. All of this is to say that, ayyy, my backlog grew into something beyond gnarly. And it got to the point where I dreaded looking at my inbox and, in coping with the daily inflows, I let slide notes to not only people who wrote kind notes about my dad and/or my books, but even notes from family, and even from some of my most cherished friends.

In 2010, I thought I'd made some progress, and maybe I had, by categorizing the email, e.g., FAMILY; FRIENDS; BUSINESS; etc., etc., but that was akin piling too much furniture into the garage--  it kept me from hyperventilating, but it didn't solve the problem; I still had this huge backlog, I still felt horribly overwhelmed. All through 2010 and 2011, I would sit down and attempt to tackle my email but after an hour or four, I'd just be facing a new deluge-- and an awful a sense of sinking in quicksand. Had email taken over my life? (Heck, was this modern life?) Spam I could delete, no problem, but not the others. No, I did not want to be the kind of person who does not respond to an invitation, a kind word, or news from a friend.

But what to do? I tried focussing on time limits, cramming it all into a certain period, but that did not work. I tried ignoring it. I tried making new categories. I reread David Allen's Getting Things Done. I considered Merlin Mann's "Inbox Zero" (for about 2 seconds-- though, that said, Mann does offer some good tips).  I read what Tim Ferriss had to say about email detox (and considered hiring a virtual assistant for my email -- for about 10 seconds). Meanwhile, the backlog loomed, ever larger...

The solution, which just wafted into my mind one day, turned out to be a blazingly simple two steps-- and it has brought me back the joy, yes joy, of email.

Step 1. Set a specific goal
Mine is, "Inbox 10," that is, to close my email at night with no more than 10 unanswered emails. (I don't think inbox zero is realistic, given that many of my emails require further information or some other good reason for a brief delay.)

Step 2. Tally daily net flows in a notebook-- in other works, track daily progress towards that goal
Because I realized the backlog could not be solved in a day, nor a week, nor even a month, and the inflow of emails-- not just spam, but emails I want to receive and answer-- wasn't going to stop, what I needed was an easy and concrete measure of my daily progress. So I bought a little notebook in which I tally the following:

DW (for dealt with) = number of messages that have been answered, simply read and filed, printed out, whatever, but they have been dealt with. I can either delete them or file them under "ARCHIVE" and adios!! 

DL (for downloaded) = after deleting all obvious spam, this is the number of messages to deal with in some way. In other words, anything I am going to lay my eyes on gets tallied. So as not to lose my place, I note the time of the last message downloaded.

N = New messages generated, not in response to any currently in the inbox.

DW - DL = DAILY NET NUMBER

When the daily net number is positive, it means I'm getting ahead; negative, I'm falling behind.

(I don't count the Ns, or new messages generated, by the way-- that's just for me to see, a sort of a ballpark snapshot of how much time I'm spending on email.)

So let's say, on a typical day I deal with 52 DW and download 50 DL, my net number for the day would be +2

52 DW - 50 DL = +2

Of the 50 emails received on a given day, I might answer 49,  plus 2 from 2012 and 1 from (ayyyyy) 2011. The point is, this net number is the way for me to see clearly whether I am falling behind or getting ahead. And at the end of the day, when I'm about the close the laptop but the number is negative, I might take 5 minutes-- just 5-- to make sure I get that number up to something positive. Maybe I'd answer another email from that same day, or maybe it would an email from yore, it doesn't matter. As I tell myself, just as with writing a book, a little bit every day, that's what gets you where you want to go.

I started keeping my email notebook back in January of 2012, and immediately I could see that yes, I could handle the daily inflow plus tackle from 2 - 5 emails from the backlog every day. On same days, especially when traveling, I slid behind, say, -14 or -5 or even -27, and I had a few all-star days of +15, but I could soon see that this was not quicksand, nor was it an overpowering Niagara, this was... yes... something I could handle. Soon I was up to +50, then +75, and so on until, now in February 2013, I have hit... drumroll...  +845. My backlog is still there, but it's now whittled down to a number I can actually count: 34. Yes, thirty-four not-yet-dealt-with emails of which... b-b-b-bongo drums... one (yes, one!) is from 2013.

So though I haven't yet made my goal of inbox 10, I'm at inbox 34. Now 34 is a big number, but it's a far sight from that totally gnarly nearly 900. (So gnarly, indeed, that I didn't even attempt to count them at the beginning.)

It feels great to have gotten it down this far and better yet, in recognizing that behind each email is a person, a relationship, I'm getting along better with friends and family and finding some more ease in my writing career as well. Should I ever get the deluge of mail of, say, Margaret Atwood, OK, maybe my legions of fans will have to get a form letter from my assistant. But that day hasn't come, and right now, I sincerely appreciate it when people write to me about my books or related subjects, and I really believe that anyone who writes to me personally (not spam), and sanely and politely, should receive an answer with my thanks. I also appreciate my friends and family, and always delight to hear from them. And I am truly touched when anyone writes to me because they remember my dad and/or his work.

And so, at long last, though I still have those 34 emails to tackle, I can say that I genuinely appreciate email. Let me repeat that, to gamelan bells & snare drum:

I APPRECIATE EMAIL.

The notebook with the daily tally. That's all there was to it. Really. OMG.

P.S. When I switched my email to yahoo last year I did not realize their spam filter was so strong, so I may have missed your email. (I now monitor my spam file every day to make sure I don't lose legitimate email). So if you haven't heard from me, please resend. And if you owe me an email, no worries, I totally understand how overwhelming it is. (But try the notebook trick!)

Comments

Email Eureka


A total eureka moment! Mindfulness applied actually works.

In a notebook:

-->Time session begins.
-->Estimated time for session end

--> Session name (I know that sounds wacky, but it helps focus attention)

--> # emails downloaded (not counting spam, which is immediately deleted)
--> # emails dealt with (in reply to both current and backlog)
--> Net # emails dealt with (not counting new emails)
--> # new emails (that is, emails sent that are not replies to existing backlog)
--> Total number of emails sent (both in "dealt with" and new)

--> Time session actually ends
--> Note difference + or minus estimated time
--> Total time spent this session

--> Then, in a box at the bottom of the page, the running balance of emails dealt with (not counting the new emails)

End of day, total all sessions in box at bottom of page.

+ + + + + +

So now I clearly see the actual time I am spending on email and the progress I am making in plowing down the backlog. This seriously helps. Above all, this method has kept me from checking email at inopportune moments. When I sit down to look at my email now, by Jove, I sit down and deal with my email.

So far this week: +55. Time spent? Don't ask.