Distractions: the scourge of the email in-box



One of the themes that crops up on MTW fairly regularly is the battle to find time and space to write.  Obviously, we all have different responsibilities and spheres of both function and influence outside our collective writing lives which affect how we handle this.  

For those with 9-5-type jobs, the challenges are different from the retired folks, but no less real.  Some of us are simultaneously juggling ageing parents and children, or grand-children. Others are navigating a new season without a spouse, as empty-nesters or new mums.  Basically, we’re all doing what we can, when we can, how we can, if we can, and resisting (with varying degrees of success) the self-flagellation that comes from being our own worst critic.


I frequently feel as though I could probably nail this writing lark more effectively and efficiently if it weren’t for all the slew of emails screaming for my attention, which can send me climbing the walls.  Deep breaths are recommended.


I’ve lost count of how many articles, blogs and emails still cross my cyber path exhorting me towards good writing practices, encouraging me to daily disciplines, hacks for writing x number of words a day, creating a specific writing area, organising my files according to genre etc etc.  Chance would be a fine thing, I hear you cry, in frustrated unison with me.


I recently had the pure satisfaction of sitting down and deleting over one hundred emails almost all of which were sent from some kind of writing forum. I’m wondering how many ACW-ers find their own in-boxes filled with this kind of stuff.  The trouble is that we sign up to something once and are deluged with electronic correspondence for ever more unless we take the time to unsubscribe and, even then, it’s far from fool-proof.


Recently, I’ve been invited to all manner of webinars, seminars, writers’ days, creative retreats, and online forums.  A few years ago, I signed up for a series of lectures from the USA, some of which were very good.  However, they now account for weekly enrolment reminders, information on genres of publication which are currently open for submissions, special events with guest authors and poets, and new tracks of varying interest and  length, all of which require payment.  Other emails entice me on to courses to learn how to create Amazon ads (nope; still can’t get my head round all of that), enhance my profile on various social media platforms, learn about the intricacies of key words, understand changes being made to KDP or plunge me into other genres.  ‘Women in publishing’-type  groups throw a whole lot of correspondence at me while a bunch of Christian forums (not ACW, I hasten to add) want me to sign up for all manner of writing-related experiences, most of which would require me to be up at 2 or 3am to attend since they originate in other time zones.


Emails tell me about competitions in far flung places for which I undoubtedly do not qualify and I have just been exhorted to review my ‘writing goals’, yet again. Anyone else feel as though they’re drowning?



One of my goals is to clear the decks of these infuriating emails so I can actually get on and do some actual writing without quite so many distractions, even if that’s exactly what they’re relentlessly telling me to do. 


[Images 1 & 3 from Pixabay]



Jenny Sanders has spent the last twelve years living between the UK and South Africa. She writes faith-inspired non-fiction: Spiritual Feasting (2020) asks how we can ‘feast’ when life serves unpalatable menus; Polished Arrows (2024), explores the allegory of  God shaping us to be fired effectively into our culture and contexts.                 

Jenny also has two published collections of humorous short stories for Key Stage 2 children: The Magnificent Moustache and other stories, and, Charlie Peach’s Pumpkins and other stories. She is available for author visits in primary schools, taking creative writing sessions.  She loves walking in nature, preferably by a river, and has a visceral loathing for offal, pineapple and incorrect use of car indicators on roundabouts.

Comments

  1. Ha, I have a personal inbox with over 4k unread emails in it! Every now and then and do a purge, but I try not to worry too much about the unread ones and just focus on the ones that I really need / want to read.

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    1. Wow; that shows impressive selectivity (is that even a word...!). I don't think my linear brain would sit comfortably with that but fantastic that it does for you, Katherine.

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  2. Very lovely post, Jenny. You have just described my email life to the letter. The good news is that I deleted hundreds. I feel much better. I found the second paragraph deep and thought-provoking. We should be less critical of ourselves, considering that we do life and write as well! Blessings.

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    1. Thanks Sophia. Yes, I think we give ourselves a front row seat in the self-critical set of seats. Being kind to ourselves doesn't come easily, I've found – doubtless for all sorts of reasons.

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  3. I have learned to be quite ruthless about unsubscribing to anything I don't regularly read / companies I rarely purchase from, etc. My distractions lie elsewhere on the internet :)

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    1. Ha! Ha! Oh yes, I didn't even include that kind; they're very real aren't they? I think deliberately plodding through and unsubscribing is a good plan. I think I tell myself I'll do it later so I can get on with the next thing. Not foolproof by any means!

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  4. I enjoyed the thought of you grinning away as you pressed Delete, delete, delete...delete. It has to be done. Pruning to produce more fruit. Somehow, I can see one of your future amusing characters going about life with an oversized pair of shears. Keep on deleting!

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    1. Ha! Ha! Thanks, John. Things are progressing more slowly than I'd like in that department but I'll get there eventually.

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