Showing posts with label smombies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label smombies. Show all posts

Monday, January 14, 2019

It Can Be Done! This Writer's Distraction Free Smartphone (Plus an App Evaluation Flowchart to Tailor-Make Your Own)

By C.M. Mayo www.cmmayo.com

SMOMBIE: It's a word that popped up in Germany only in 2015. It's hard to imagine now, but a decade ago, a scene, typical today, of smombies shuffling along city streets would have been but a cliché in a sci fi novel. But here we are. 

[>>CONTINUE READING ON THE SELF-HOSTED WORDPRESS SITE WWW.MADAM-MAYO.COM]

When we lack the words to precisely describe something, it becomes difficult to recognize it, never mind debate and discuss it. Albeit some decades ago, the Digital Revolution burst upon us all, a series of tsunamis of such dizzying celerity that our vocabulary is still catching up. Only a few years ago a much-needed term was coined a few years ago by Jake Knapp: "Distraction Free iPhone." I came across the term when I read Knapp's recent update on his experience here.


DISTRACTION FREE SMARTPHONE = DFS = defis 

I'll switch that last word from "iPhone" to "smartphone" to make it a Distraction Free Smartphone, DFS for short. I did not think of my smartphone as distraction free until now, but for the past several years, that's precisely what I have been moving towards, a DFS. Hmm, that sounds a mite snappier! 

And I hereby tweak DFS to "defis," which, I note, is the plural of "defi," which means "challenge" or "defiance." Indeed, using a distraction-free smartphone is an act of defiance towards smombiedom.


BEYOND PRO OR CON

The magic is, this new word, DFS, or defis, nudges us beyond the rigid ping-pong of pro or anti-smartphone; forward-looking or old fogey. As I wrote in this recent post:
The reigning paradigm is the same one we've had since forever: if it's digital and new it must be better; those who resist are old fogeys. It's a crude paradigm, a cultural fiction. And it has lasted so long time in part because those who resisted either were old fogeys and/or for the most part could not articulate their objections beyond a vaguely whiney, "I don't like it."
As an early adopter of digital technologies for decades now (wordprocessing in 1987, email in 1996, website 1998, blog 2006, podcast and Youtube channel 2009, bought a first generation iPad, Twitter 2008, and first generation Kindle, self-pubbed Kindles in 2010, etc.), I have more than earned the cred to say, no, my little grasshoppers, no, if it is digital and it is new it might, actually, maybe, in many instances, be very bad for you.
In other words, adopting a given digital technology does not necessarily equate with "onwards and upwards"; neither does rejecting a given digital technology necessarily equate with backwardness. I so often hear that "there is no choice." There is in fact a splendiferous array of choices, and each with a cascade of consequences. But we have to have our eyes, ears, and minds open enough to perceive these, and the courage to act accordingly.
Of course, when it comes to using digital technologies, different people have different needs, different talents, goals, obligations, opportunities, and vulnerabilities. A responsible mother with young children will probably want to use Whatsapp with the babysitter; a real estate agent who wants to stay in business needs to be available to clients, whether by phone, email or text-- and so on. Some people slip into the vortex of addiction to social media or gaming far more easily than others...  

My aim here is not to judge other people (although I'll admit to some eye-rolling at smombies slapping themselves into streetlamps), but to examine the nature of digital technology and my own use of it. I am not a mother with young children, nor a real estate agent. Games bore me, always have.   I am a writer of books. I blog about digital technology because first, it's my way of grokking it; and second, I trust that what I've learned may be of interest to my readers-- for I know that many of you are also writers. 

We writers are hardly alone in the need for uninterrupted chunks of time. Brain surgeons, composers, painters, historians, statisticians, sculptors, software engineers... many people, in a wide variety of professions and vocations need, to quote Cal Newport, "the ability to focus without distraction on a cognitively demanding task," that is to say, engage in what he terms "deep work." 

"DEEP WORK"

Writing a book is deep work. And literary travel writing is especially demanding deep work. From my 2009 post on the nature of the genre:


"Literary travel writing is about first perceiving in wider and sharper focus than normal; then, in the act of composition, shaping and exploring these perceptions so that, as with fiction, it may evoke in a reader’s mind emotions, thoughts, and pictures. It’s not meant to be practical, to serve up, say, the top ten deals on rental cars, or a low-down on the newest "hot spas." Literary travel writing, at its best, provides the reader the sense of actually traveling with the writer, so that she smells the tortillas heating on the comal, tastes the almond-laced hot chocolate, sees the lights in the distant houses brightening yellow in the twilight, and, after the put-put of a motorcycle, that sudden swirl of dust over the road."

Writers have always battled distractions, but with the ubiquity of smartphones, and increasingly sophisticated app designs and algorithms to lure us and trap us into "the machine zone," we're at a new level of the game-- or the war, as Steven Pressfield would have it. 

Whatever might or might not be an optimal use of digital technology for you, I know this: 
A book that can claim a thoughtful person's time and attention is not going to be written by someone who is pinged by & poking at their smartphone all the live-long day. 

"OUT IN THE WORLD"

Some writers have outright rejected smartphones-- but so few, in fact, that only two come to mind: John Michael Greer, a prolific blogger and author whose stance on modern conveniences is, as he titled a collection of essays on his vision of the post-industrial future, Collapse Now and Avoid the Rush; and journalist Sebastian Junger. As Junger said on the Joe Rogan podcast:


"when I'm out, I want to be out in the world. If you're looking at your phone, you're not in the world... I just look around at this-- and I'm an anthropologist, and I'm interested in human behavior-- and I look at the behavior, like literally, the physical behavior of people with smartphones and... it looks anti-social and unhappy and anxious, and I don't want to look like that, and I don't want to feel like how I think those people feel."

While I say "AMEN" to Junger's comment, I decided to keep my smartphone because I value having the emergency information-access and communication backups enough to pay for the smartphone for that alone; plus, I much prefer using the smartphone's camera and dictation app to having to carry separate appliances, and I use these often in my work.

For me, the question was never whether or not a smartphone is useful. Obviously it is. The question is rather: 


How can I maximize the benefits of this sleekly convenient multi-tool / communications device, while blocking its djinn-like demands, and so with sharpest powers of observation and consciously directed concentration, stay awake in this world?

I answered this question by turning my smartphone into a distraction free smartphone, as I realized, ex-post, when I read Jake Knapp's post.

Knapp's version of "distraction free" turned out to be different than mine-- he deleted his smartphone's Mail and browser apps, which I kept. And when I Googled around a bit to find other writers who had tried to convert their smartphone to distraction free-- and they were astonishingly few-- I found that each had a different version of distraction free. Some recommended using grayscale, which I did not find helpful-- but you might. Again, no surprise, what works for one writer may not work for another. 

And that got me noodling... over the year-end holidays, instead of going to the movies, I stayed home and made my App Evaluation Flowchart for a Custom Distraction Free Smartphone, which you will find at the end of this post. 

THIS WRITER'S 
DISTRACTION FREE SMARTPHONE (DFS or "defis")

In early 2019, here's where I stand, comfortable at last, with my smartphone. My defis, as it were. In order of importance, I use my smartphone as / for a:


1. Camera
2. Audioplayer (various apps for audio books, podcasts, and music, which I usually listen to when flying or driving, never when walking or on public transport) 
3. Emergency Mail 
4.  Recorder (dictation app for interviews) 
5. Google translator (I'm in German-speaking Switzerland these days)
6. Emergency telephone
7. Emergency Google Maps
8. Emergency Safari
9. Calculator
10. Flashlight

In essence, I use my smartphone only when I decide it will serve me for a specific purpose, e.g., to take a photo, make a call, record an interview. Otherwise, it stays in the charging station at home or zipped into its felt bag in my backpack, wifi off, roaming off. I do not allow it to beep, rill, cheep, chirp, ding, ping or vibrate. 

Other than the above-mentioned apps, I have deleted all apps (except the ones Apple will not allow me to delete; those I corralled into a folder I labeled "NOPE." Do not ask me what they are, I do not remember.) 

No social media apps, no Whatsapp, no news, no games.  

All-- all-- notifications are off. 

About the smartphone as a phone: I make a call from the smartphone maybe two or three times a month. I never check voicemail. Ever. I don't know how to check voicemail and don't tell me its easy because I don't want to know how. Text messages? Not my circus, not my planet.

If you leap to conclude I'm living the life of a Luddite you'd be wrong. I do make and receive plenty of telephone phone calls-- except for emergencies, on a landline. I Skype. I spend hours galore on email-- but at my desk, on a laptop. On the laptop I also manage my website and blog. I podcast, too, editing the audio with GarageBand (listen in anytime here). And I film and edit short videos for my YouTube and Vimeo channels.

When I first got an iPhone nearly a decade ago, oh, did I fiddle with apps, apps for this and apps for that and apps that would confect a fairy's hat! I was becharmed by apps! Ingenious things, apps are.

I was on FB, too, until 2015.

But I am a writer of books, and this smartphone rabbit-hole-orama, it wasn't working for me. 

For me, the two main pulls to pick up the smartphone have been:


(1) to see any messages from people and/or about matters I care about; 
(2) to have something convenient to read / look at when I'm away from my desk and feel bored. 

Once I had this clear, I could formulate a more effective strategy than vaguely "finding a healthy balance" or blanging down the anvil of will power. 

Over the past several years, trying to figure this out, backsliding, and trying again to figure this out, what I have found actually works is to remove or minimize temptations to even look at, never mind pick up, the smartphone when it is not in my fully conscious and decided interest to do so; and crucially, I have replaced those "pulls" to look at the smartphone with what are, for me, either superior or at least realistically acceptable alternatives.

B.J. FOGG

B.J. Fogg of Stanford University's Behavior Design Lab has been an influence in my thinking about the smartphone. His basic equation for a inducing a behavior is Motivation + Ability + Prompt (all three simultaneous). You can read more about Fogg's behavior model here. He's all very sunny and even uses puppets when talking about his behavior model and how it can help people improve their lives, and I for one sincerely appreciate this. But I suspect people with darker designs (oh I dunno, like those starry eyed denizens of Silicon Valley who would launch a platform / app that with maximimum speed and efficiency sucks the life-hours, money, and and data out of you) also look to professor Fogg as a guru. What I'm saying is, more likely than not, you are being very, very cannily manipulated to  pick up and remain focused on your smartphone, despite what you know perfectly well are your better interests.


THIS WRITER'S STRATEGIES

I don't pretend that these strategies will work for other writers. This section is not meant to be a series of recommendations but an example: what works for me, a working writer. If you want to go direct to the App Evaluation Flowchart for a Custom Distraction Free Smartsphone, just scroll on down to the end of this post.

1. Focus digital communications on email, and always at the desk, on the laptop
This is, to-the-moon-and-back, the most powerful strategy for me. (Read about my game-changing 10-point email protocol here.) I take email very seriously. However, with rare, emergency-level exceptions, I check email only on my laptop, only after 3 PM, and I batch it. I thereby establish the boundaries I need to be able to do my work, and I can truthfully say, "I welcome email," and "the best way to reach me is by email." And if not perfect, I am ever better about responding to email in a timely manner-- since I have relatively fewer distractions!

Many people have told me that they would prefer to communicate with me on FB or Whatsapp, but... too bad! I am a writer who writes books, which means that I need to funnel communication into specific times, not allowing interruptions to leech my attention willynilly throughout the day. If someone cannot summon the empathy to appreciate that, well, like I said. (Anyway, I love you guys.)

This strategy allows me to keep the smartphone silent and in the closet (its charging station) or zipped in its bag inside my backpack. In B.J. Fogg's terminology, I have hereby eliminated the motivation, the ability, and the prompts to pick up the smartphone. So I don't.


2. When out and about, if there's a chance of having to wait a spell, carry a paperback
Recent Reading:
J.M. Synge's The Aran Islands
Ye, verily, of the time before Instagram
and TripAdvisor
(A classic of travel writing
and the Irish Renaissance,
and a reading cure for "the shallows")
Weighing in at about the same as a potato.
This is the second most powerful strategy for me, and it took what seems to me now an embarrassingly long time to figure it out. 

I've always been an avid reader of books and magazines, but when I got an iPhone, suddenly, in spare moments, such as waiting at the dentist, in line at the grocery store, waiting for a friend in a coffee shop, I found myself pecking at it. I was reading, but... it was, in fact, more often skimming, watching, and surfing.

As Nicholas Carr explains in The Shallows: What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains, reading a book and clicking & scrolling on a smartphone (from, say, website to website, to Twitter to FB to Whatsapp to YouTube to Instagram feeds x, then y, then z), do two very different things to one's brain. The latter literally retrains your brain, resulting in what Carr calls "the shallows," and once you're in the shallows, tasks requiring sustained cognitive focus-- such as writing a book-- become ants-in-the-pants-nigh-impossible. 

Don't tell me I could use a Kindle app to read ebooks on my smartphone; I don't and I won't because, again, my goal is to remove as many siren calls to the smartphone as possible, relying on acceptable or superior alternatives. For me, a paperback provides a superior reading experience to an ebook; and if it's not too heavy, I don't mind tucking a real book in my bag.

I do read Kindles on occasion, using the Kindle app on my iPad, as a last resort only, when a paper copy is unavailable. (I also use my iPad for reading news, which I inevitably regret, a select few favorite blogs, and for listening to audiobooks and podcasts, mainly in the kitchen. If not in its charging station, my iPad is parked on the kitchen counter.)

In B.J. Fogg's terminology, with this strategy, I have reduced the motivation to pick up the smartphone. Also in his terminology, I build a tiny habit: when bored, take out the paperback. (You can watch his TEDx talk on tiny habits here.)

3. For a calendar, "to do" lists, and selected contacts, use a Filofax
Behold! Ye Filofax
This strategy is an old one for me, tried and true. As GettingThings Done guru David Allen says, "low-tech is oftentimes better because it is in your face." The Filofax is a century-old British system designed for engineers that is so efficient it still has legions of devotees, among them myself, for over 30 years now. My lovely and ridiculously sturdy cherry-red leather Filofax normally stays next to my laptop on my desk; I can, but I rarely carry it with me. 

As for contacts, I keep the addresses and telephone numbers I need at-hand in the Filofax and the rest in a separate system, but not on the smartphone because, again, I aim to focus my communications on email, and always on the laptop. (My smartphone does have emergency contacts.)

Read my post about the Filofax for Kevin Kelly's Cool Tools blog.

In B.J. Foggese: For my to dos and calendar, I have no motivation nor prompts to pick up the smartphone. 


4. For an alarm clock use an alarm clock (and for a watch use a watch)
Back in the days of my starry-eyed wonderfest with apps, I downloaded three different alarm clock apps. The cornucopia of "alarms," from harps to waterfalls to drums to roosters yodeling, that was fun. But I deleted them all and instead use a little plastic alarm clock powered by two AA batteries. It weighs almost nothing, cost less than ten bucks, and works just fine-- so I can keep the volume on the smartphone on mute. Don't tell me I could adjust the volume on the alarm clock app because I don't want to touch the smartphone if I don't have to, and certainly not as the last thing at night and first thing in the morning. And I don't want the smartphone parked anywhere near where I sleep. 

This strategy might sound silly. How is the alarm clock app different than say, the calculator or the flashlight or the camera or diction app? The answer is, by definition an alarm clock distracts, it prompts me to pick it up to turn it off-- and that is precisely what I do not want my distraction free smartphone to do. 

This is not trivial. 

In B.J. Foggese: another motivation, ability, and prompt to pick up the smartphone eliminated.

5. Use paper maps
You read that right. People laugh at me. I laugh back! Sometimes I use a store-bought map but more often, before I go out, I've Googled on my laptop and printed out or sketched the directions. I do make use of Google Maps on the laptop and on my smartphone in emergencies-- it's one of the reasons I keep a smartphone. But by relying primarily on paper, rather than GPS via the smartphone in realtime, I have removed yet another reason to pick up and start poking at the smartphone. 

An added benefit, crucial for me as a travel writer, is that my sense of space, direction, and the lay of any given landscape have remained sharper. 

(If you love the planet and believe everything paper should be digital, I would invite you to Google a bit to learn about server farms and what goes into smartphone batteries.)

6. Always  carry a pen and small a notebook
Another reason not to pick up the smartphone. 

7. Habitally keep it zipped in its bag inside the backpack
I don't make a habit of holding my smartphone my hand, carrying it in a back pocket, or setting it on the table next to me. Unless it's an emergency, or I have good, fully conscious reason to take it out and use it, the smartphone stays dead quiet and out of sight in its bag inside the bag. 

In B.J. Foggese, I thereby reduce my motivation, ability, and prompts to touch it.



IN CONCLUSION


My smartphone is now simply a lightweight selected multi-tool (camera / recorder / audio player / caculator / flashlight) and emergency information-access and communications device which I carry when I go out of the house, unless it is to walk the dogs. (I never take it when I walk the dogs because when I walk the dogs, I walk the dogs.) 

My smartphone does have Mail, Safari, and Googlemaps buttons, but because I rely on my laptop for email and other Internet access, and paper for out-and-about navigation, I no longer feel that pesky tug to pick up and peck at the smartphone-- but I do have these apps available to me should I need them. And sometimes I do need them. 

Ditto the telephone. 

Again, and of course, what works for me may not necessarily work for you. But may this new term, Distraction Free Smartphone, or as I would suggest, DFS, or defis, serve you in thinking through your own concerns and strategies for your own smartphone and your own writing.

DFS MODE

I'll add one more term: "DFS mode." A smartphone need not be distraction free almost all the time, as mine is. Let's say one needs to be available on Whatsapp, voicemail, email or to use some other app for family or work that may ping, ring or ding-ding you at random intervals, and so be it; then, for the time alloted for writing (or other deep work), one's smartphone could be put into DFS mode. As I hope I have made abundantly clear, this would not necessarily be the same as "airplane mode."

APP EVALUATION FLOWCHART FOR YOUR OWN CUSTOMIZED DISTRACTION FREE SMARTPHONE
My App Evaluation Flowchart for Your Own Distraction Free Smartphone.
If that's what you want. Your feedback is welcome. Write to me here.


P.S. Cal Newport's Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World will be out next month. From what I've read of his other books and blog, this promises to be a pathbreaking book. If nothing else, the term "digital minimalism" can help add depth and nuance to our thinking about digital technology and our use of it.


> Your comments are always welcome. Write to me here.

Visit www.cmmayo.com for more about my books, shorter works, workshop page, and podcasts. 


[This blog is in process of moving to self-hosted WordPress at www.madam-mayo.com.]







Monday, December 12, 2016

Email Ninjerie in the Theater of Space-Time, or This Writer's 10 Point Protocol for Inbox 10 (ish)

>> READ THIS POST AT WWW.MADAM-MAYO.COM
Please note that as of January 2019 "Madam Mayo" blog is in-process of moving to self-hosted Wordpress at www.madam-mayo.com. You can also read this post in its entirety on the workshop page at www.cmmayo.com


BIG FAT CAVEAT: If you have a job and/or family situation that oblige you to use your smartphone like a bodily appendage, dear reader, a shower of metaphorical lotus petals upon you, but this post is not for you. Perhaps you might enjoy reading this post from 2012 instead. See you next Monday.

The challenge in a pistachio shell: How to maximize the quality of one's email, both incoming and outgoing, while minimizing the time and effort required to dispatch it all the while maintaining the blocks of uninterrupted time necessary for one's own writing?

What works for me may not work for you, dear reader, but I know that many of you are also writers, and a few of you are artists and/or scholars, so perhapsand here's hoping my time-tested 10 point protocol for dealing with email will be of as much help to you as it has been to me. 


A PRELIMINARY NOTE ON CONTEXT: 
EMAIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!RRRRRRR

How is a writer to cope with this snake-headed conundrum-o-rama that just about everyone everywhere has been wrestling with since it first emerged out of the DARPA-depths of this rapacious fabulosity we call the Internet?

I've been slogging it out with email for more years than I care to count. It was sometime in the mid-1990s when I logged on to my first account; I but fuzzily recall the roboty-dialup-and-connection sounds and an inky screen with neon-green text. A few years after that, I was using this cutting-edge thing called an AOL account. (Whew, AOL, Paleolithic!) Now I use a nearly-as-ancient yahoo account plus a pair of gmail accounts all funneled into ye olde Outlook Express inbox, i
nto which pour... pick your metaphor... 
(a) Rains!  
(b) Niagaras! 
(c) Avalanches! 
(d) Gigazoodles of emails!

As anyone who remembers the late 1990s will attest, it seemed that overnight email blossomed into a hot-house monster
or, I should say, a Macy's Parade of monsters and for me, by 2009-2010, when I was on tour for my novel, The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire at the same time that my father was in his last days, trying to cope with email, both professional and personal, had become a nightmare. 

In 2011-2012 I was tempted to follow the example of "Swiss Miss" blogger Tina Roth Eisenberg after her three months of maternity leave: Declare email bankruptcy. Many a time I was also tempted to remove my email address from my website. Neither of those strategies appealed to me, however; I appreciated so many of those messages, and I also appreciated that, apart from spam and the occasional bit of nonsense, behind those messages were relationships that I sincerely valued, even cherished.


I also realizedand this is something I am writing about in my book Far West Texas that hyper-connectivity along with endless carousels of hyper-palatable distractions are now woven into the very fabric of modern life. As long as the electric grid continues functioning, I doubt these forces impinging on one's experience of work, family, social life, politics, and travel, will diminish; on the contrary.


Over the past several years, chip by chip, I managed to whittle down that ghastly backlog (not to zero, but on some days it gets razor-close). More importantly, by trial, error, research, and mental muscle, I formulated a more workable strategy for dispatching the ongoing flow. 

Again, that caveat: this post is not for those who need to be continually available to a boss, colleagues, clients, friends, or family.



IT STARTED WITH SOME ILLUMINATING READING...

THEN THE FLOODLIGHTS SWITCHED ON WITH "THE MACHINE STOPS"

I gleaned many an insight and tip for managing email from:


+ David Allen's Getting Things Done;

+ Naomi Baron's Always On (a linguist's perspective on the current madness)

+ Matthew Crawford's The World Beyond Your Head


+ Neil Fiore's The Now Habit

+ Julie Morgenstern's Never Check Email in the Morning (also love her organizing books); and


Cal Newport's Deep Work (common sense on a silver platter).


All highly recommended.


For me the most enlightening reading of all, however, and strange to say, was a work of fiction from 1909: E.M. Forster's "The Machine Stops." Astonishingly, that short story written more than a century ago by an Edwardian Englishman best known for his novel A Passage to India,  
envisions email, texting, Facetime, and the like. It also 
seems Forster anticipated the American diet built around corn-syrup heavy fast food. The main character, cocooned in technology, has turned into a heartless, incurious, yet hyper-connected blob. 
[[ Note, dear reader, that Forster had a pug.
This alone catapults him into the
Pantheon of the Greats.
Alas, it seems this was not Forster's own charming creature,
but Lady Ottoline Morrell's pug, Soie.
Check out Moffat's fascinating biography. ]]

On reading this sci-fi horror, I realized that one needs to evaluate a technology not by its gee-whiz-what-would-Steve-Jobs-say factor, but by how it affects the body. I mean, by how it affects one's human body, brains to toenails, now, here, on Planet Earth.



THE BODY AND TECHNOLOGY IN THE THEATER OF SPACE-TIME



(1) Assuming one can afford it, does a given technology help one realize one's conscious intentions born of free will? 

(2) Does using said technology cause one to serve or to neglect the body? 


(3) Is there a better available alternative?

These are the key questions to answer for a sense of the true and full (both monetary and nonmonetary) net cost / benefit of utilizing a given technology because if your body, which by the way, includes the brain, ends up not working the way it was meant to, well, in terms of going anywhere or doing anything or interacting with other people, that more than kind of sucks. 


Some metaphysicians argue that we are not our bodies, but in essence, immortal pinpoints of consciousness. It seems to me that if they're right, after we finish up here on Planet Earth, we have forever and eternity to do what immortal pinpoints of consciousness do; and if those metaphysicians are wrong, well, then they're wrong, and we won't be here anymore to argue with them about it anyway.

Either way, as I write this and you read this, we are conscious, each in our place in the Theater of Space-Time. We did not arrive here encased in technology, but in our human bodies, with all their pain and joy and bones and squishiness and awkwardness and grace. Why then would we want machines to do everything and our breathing for us
 unless, of course one has the crap-awful luck to require an iron lung? 

I want to utilize technology not to supplant but to enhance living this life
 this human life on Planet Earth.  Or, to use my new favorite metaphor, to enhance my experience of being here now in the Theater of Space-Time. 


Technology is not bad per se, of course; it can help us survive and even thrive. But last I checked, a quality human life requires being able to breathe, walk, see, hear, exercise, sleep, eat nutritious food and drink adequate clean water, soak up some beauty, and interact in multitudinous ways with other people. What good is a technology that turns us into blobs staring at and fiddling with screens all day, even as we neglect our relationships? (Or walk into oncoming traffic?) 

On the other hand, email, like pen-and-paper-correspondence of old, is one technology, a powerful one, that when properly employed can help us work with / get along with other people. And like pen-and-paper-correspondence of old, for a writer email can be a joy. 

Dead-simple observations, I'll grant you, gentle reader. 


Another dead-simple observation: Email is like any other tool in that it can be used to good or bad purpose. For example, you could use a hammer to pound down a nail that might otherwise snag your sweater, or, say, pulp your neighbor's pet goldfish (not recommended). 


And on the scale of expertise, one can use email poorly, or with world-class finesse. Let's say, my very Aristotelian aim has been to employ email reasonably well so that it may prove useful
 and without the mental drag of noodathipious flooflemoofle!


DOWN WITH NOODATHIPIOUS FLOOFLEMOOFLE!


Finally, after years of frustration and experimentation... drum roll....  I am no longer overwhelmed by email. I have not arrived at "inbox zero" because.... drum roll...  I am not dead! 


And knowing that I am not dead, other human beings in the Theater of Space-Time continually send me emails, and I, in turn, write them back. Ping, pong. And that Medusa's hair of a conundrum-o-rama about pinging the pongs and pongings the pings, and which pings to pong, etc., is now wrestled down, at least in my own mind, to a pretty little pretzel. 


YEAH, PUT SOME MUSTARD ON IT.


Now I can sincerely say that I welcome my correspondence (ahem, email). I love to hear from friends (lunch, yeah!), family (weddings, yay!), colleagues (congrats on your new book, lotus petals upon you!), and from readers, known to me or not, I always appreciate a kind and/or thoughtful word about my books / some subject of interest / relevant to my work. I even appreciate cat videos! (Just kidding about the cat videos. But cousin A., I don't mind if you send me a cat video.)


Herewith:



1. SCHEDULED BATCHING


[[ CLICK HERE for your free 
online countdown stopwatch ]]

For me, of all the 10 points in my method, processing emails not one or two or three at a whim, but in scheduled batches was the game-changer. 


I usually do 20 minutes of email processing with a stopwatch. It's not that I am trying to hurry through my email, but rather, I am respecting the limits of my brain's ability to effectively focus on it. I'm a speed-reader and I can type faster than lickety-split, but on most days I can deal with email for only about 20 minutes before my brain cells run low on glucose and I end up scrolling up and down the screen, dithering, feeling scattered in short, procrastinating. (You might be able to do 10 minutes, or, say, an hour in one go of course, not everyone's energy to focus on their email is the same, or the same every day and in every circumstance. One can always set the stopwatch for a different amount of time.) 

Don't believe me about batching? Check out the extra-crunchy research at MIT (PDF). 

By processing email in 20 minute batches, when the sessions all add up over the arc of the day, I find that I accomplish more in, say, one hour of three separate 20 minute sessions than I would have had I plowed on for an hour straight.


When the stopwatch dings, I do not expect to have finished
 "inbox zero" is a fata morgana! And that's OK, because I have another email batch session already scheduled (a few hours later, or five minutes later. It's important to take a break, at the very least stand up and stretch.)


Above all, because I am focussing on email at my convenience, on my schedule, my attention is no longer so fractured. I need not attempt to wrestle with each and every email as it comes in; and of course, some emails cannot or should not be answered immediately. I aim to dispatch the average daily inflow. In other words, if, net of spam, I receive an average of 30 emails per day, then I should be averaging 30 emails dispatched per day they need not be one and the same emails. One day I might dispatch 50, and another day, 10. The point is, there's no there there, as long as my email account is working, barring volcanic explosions of a geological nature, I'm probably never in this lifetime going to get to inbox zero. What matters is maintaining a consistently adequate dispatching process. 

The easiest way to keep track of the process is to keep a running tally of all undispatched emails as of the close of the last session of the day. (In Outlook Express, for each folder of undispatched email, select all, go to the main menu, click edit, select "Mark all unread," and it will automatically generate a tally for that folder.)


[[ For reals ]]

(And by the way, when the batching session is done, I close my Outlook Express. I never, ever leave it open. And would I never, ever, use any alarm for new email.)

UPDATE: On using a Zassenhaus kitchen timer.


2. DO THE DDO: 

DOWNLOAD, DELETE, ORGANIZE

I used to download email into an undifferentiated inbox at random moments and, oftentimes, even as email was still downloading, start answering willynilly. How about that for an attention-fracking technique! 


Now I begin each email session as I would with a haul of paper mail: first, by taking it all in; second, deleting the junk; and third, organizing the correspondence I want to look at and/or answer into precisely labeled files. 

Files are easy to create and, when emptied of their contents, to delete, or rename or whatever a powerful tool within a tool.  And I cannot overemphasize how effective a simple and flexible filing system has been for helping me focus and more quickly dispatch my email. 

Of course, just like a paper filing system, too many files can be counterproductive. For me, the best filing system is one that holds 15 or fewer emails per file. So if I have a bunch of files with one or two emails, I might consolidate those; if I have, say, 50 emails in one, I might to break that up into, say, two to four more files.

My filing system changes depending on what I'm working on or dealing with in my life. This week, nearing the holidays, it looks like this:

INBOX (this has whatever I'm going to tackle now, preferably never more than 11 emails)
BACKLOG: TEXAS (anything to do with my book in-progress)
BACKLOG: FAMILY
BACKLOG: FRIENDS & COLLEAGUES
BACKLOG: FINANCIAL

(By the way, in case this looks like a "to do" list, it isn't... quite... It's just email. For my "to dos" I use Allen's GTD system with a Filofax along with the brilliant flexibility of usingthanks to Julia Morgenstern for the idea little yellow PostIts for noting next actions.  )

If I can answer an email inside of two minutes, I usually do. (That's a tactic from David Allen's Getting Things Done.)

I might receive some gigazoodlesque number of emails in a typical day, but after doing the DDO, which takes only a couple of minutes at most, I am left with a tidy number of uncategorized emails in the main inbox sometimes as few as two or three. (I try to keep the active uncategorized inbox at 11 messages, tops, because for me a longer list becomes visually overwhelming.)



3. JUI-JITSU-BLOCK TROLLS, KRAY-ZEES & SPAMMERS 

I do not respond to rude or certifiably ultra-weird messages, and as with businesses that spew spam,*  I add those email addresses to my "block sender" list. Happily, there are not many of those, and happily, once I've blocked them, with lightning ease, I never see their emails again!


Out of sight, out of mind. 

*(Phishers tend to use one-time only emails; those I just delete.)

Many of my writer friends agonize over emails (as well as social media comments) from trolls and nuts and spammers. I tell them as I tell you, dear reader, it really is this simple to make them all go away. The challenge is, your ego, prompted by its its arch sense of justice, might jump-up-and-down-insist on responding to them, but your ego, if it's like most people's, including mine, should not be in driver's seat here. Surely you have better things to do with your time and attention than engage with emotionally stunted, social-skill-challenged, and possibly dangerously disturbed individuals. (If you lived in a big city, would you leave your kitchen's back door open to the alleyway 24/7?)


If you relish unnecessary fights and pointless thrills, well, as they say in Mexico, dios los hace y ellos se juntan (God makes them and they get together.) I prefer the Polish saying, Not my circus, not my monkeys.




Viva Moti Nativ!
(Seriously, I took Moti Nativ's Feldenkrais workshop, it was a blast.)



4. PRIORITIZE & TACKLE 

Stopwatch ticking, after having done the DDO, then I prioritize emails (and other related tasks as noted below), and then I tackle them.


There's no magic formula here: I might think about it for a moment or three, then decide what should come first. 

(Once dealt with, I archive each email by year. Some people just delete them; in my repeated experience, however, that is not a good idea.)




5. SWEEP OUT THE SPAM FOLDER ONCE PER DAY

I check the spam folder once per day because that is precisely about how often I find an important email in there. These days floods of spam are coming from phishers (easy to spot for many reasons, also because they vary their email addresses); those I don't touch, I just delete them. 


(I remain perplexed by correspondents who do not check their spam folders. On the other hand, checking too often wastes timesmall amounts, but they add up.)




6. APPLY AND ADJUST "SENDER FILTERS" AS NEEDED


I'm not talking about an app or programming or anything complicated. By "sender filter," a concept I grokked an eon ago but a term I first encountered in Cal Newport's Deep Work, I mean some specific information on one's contact page that, ideally in a kind and generous spirit, encourages potential senders to not send email so that, for the few emails that do squeeze through, I am able to respond quickly, politely, and thoughtfully. 
[[ My contact page as of 2016,
rich with "sender filters" ]]

My contact page, pictured right, includes a long lineup of sender filters: First, a newsletter signup (mainly for those who want to know when I will be teaching a workshop or post a new podcast); then it answers FAQs, such as "where can I find your books?" (I am ever-amazed by that question in this day of amazon and Google, but I do get such emails fairly often); for book club inquiries; the best way to reach me for media and speaking inquiries; answers to writerly questions ("how to find a publisher," etc.); rights inquiries; press kits including high res images; and finally...

... (few indeed seem to have the attentional snorkel gear to arrive there at the bottom).... 

... if someone still wants to email me, he will find my email address.

Like many other writers, back in pioneer days, once I had a live website showing my email address, I found myself receiving so many messages from people seeking my advice about / feedback on / encouragement of their writing, it would have been impossible to answer them all individually. As a solution, many authors have opted for what I think of as "The Wall of Silence"
 no email address at alland/or what seems to me a snotty-sounding third-person notice along the lines of "Wiggy Blip is so famous and busy being fabulously famous, he cannot possibly deign to acknowledge your email." 


(Well, bless you, Wiggy Blip. And Ziggy Stardust, too.)


Cal Newport's various sender filters conclude as follows I quote from his book, Deep Work: "If you have an offer, opportunity, or introduction that might make my life more interesting, e-mail me at interesting (at) calnewport.com For the reasons stated above, I'll only respond to those proposals that are a good match for my schedule and interests."

Of course, some emails, even from perfectly civilized and well-meaning people, do not merit a response they presume too much, they're eye-crossingly vague or, as in a few cases, they clearly neither expect nor invite a response. But as for myself, because my own sender filters work beautifully, my stance is that I will do my darnedest, most reasonable best to answer everyone, whether family, friends, students, literary colleague, or mysterious Albanian, who takes the trouble to write to me a civilized email. 

On occasion a sender blazes past or perhaps never saw the relevant sender filter, so I reply with the link or paste-copy the text of my long-ago posted answer to their question. (For example, I am often asked by students, friends, relatives, neighbors and utter strangers if I will read their manuscript. Here's my answer to that one.)

If you want to comment on this blog, which I sincerely welcome, click here and what you'll get is this sender filter:




This simplest of sender filters, stating that I read but do not usually publish comments, works blazingly well. Trolls and their ilk took a hike, never to return! (As for my fierce-looking writing assistant, I assure you, dear reader, Uliberto Quetzalpugtl only bites cheese.)

P.S. Cal Newport's take on some industrial-strength sender filters. Personally I would not want to use such forbidding sender filters, but for some writers, and some people, that might be the right strategy. In any event, a sender filter beats the daisies out of the Wiggyesque Wall of Silence.


UPDATE: For a good example of strong but both friendly and polite sender filters, here is a screenshot of publishing consultant and blogger Jane Friedman's contact page:





FURTHER UPDATE: For an at once Groucho Marx-esque and expert example of sender filters by someone whose religious ideas seem to attract trolls as ripe bananas do fruit flies, see John Michael Greer's Frequently Thrown Tantrums page for his Druidical Order of the Golden Dawn. 





7. FUNNEL IT ALL INTO MOOOOORE EMAIL! 

Over the past year and some I have freed up chunkoids of time and energy for email by deactivating my Facebook account, minimizing Twitter and LinkedIn (including turning off email notifications), and closing this blog and my YouTube channel to published comments. 
In other words, I have reduced the number of channels for people to communicate with me, funneling as many  communications as possible into ye olde email. 

I tell everyone who asks, the best way to find me is by email. 

Yes, I receive more email as a result, but interestingly, many of my "friends" who were so chatty & likey on Facebook rarely if ever trouble to send me email. I have also found that many of the younger generation do not respond to email. Hmmm, also interesting! (Have a nice life, kiddos!)

Well, at least we still have telephones. But sorry, don't count on me to retrieve my voicemail, I am too busy answering email! 


(What about Whatsapp? Ask me again after I've lugged home my taxidermied hippopotamus.)



8. BE QUICK & CLEAR, MY DEAR, BUT ADD DETAIL TO CUT THE CLUTTER


The emails I send myself have a clear subject line and the text clearly calls for or implies expected action or inaction. For example, some of the younger generation in my family prefer to text rather than use email, and getting them to answer an email, such has been my experience, requires laser-like focus in this regard. Hence, subject lines like this:



Re: Super Quick URRRRRgent Question about X
or, say:
Re: Confirming dinner at at 9 PM this Saturday

What do I mean by "add detail to cut the clutter?" Minimize the number of emails needed to arrange things by politely making specific actionable proposals and provide websites, addresses, phone numbers and any other information that your correspondent might need, and hence avoid further emails. For example, instead of blah blah blahing about when and where to maybe kind of sort of meet for coffee, go ahead and make a specific proposal, e.g., "How about if we meet for coffee at 4:30 PM this Tuesday or, if you would prefer, 5:30 next Wednesday at Café Thus-and-Such, 123 Avenue ABC." 


Cal Newport offers more detailed advice about this brain power-saving email tactic on his blog, Study Hacks and his book, Deep Work.




9. WHEN CALLED FOR, FOR HEAVENSSAKES, JUST GO AHEAD AND APOLOGIZE! BRIEFLY

Muse.com's Aja Frost offers a batch of handy templates categorized by degree of situational horribleness. 




10. AT THE END OF THE LAST EMAIL SESSION FOR THE DAY, DO THE SCARLET O'HARA




It is a fact that for me, as well as for everyone who uses email, night falls in this Theater of Space-Time... and falls again, and again.... Funny how that happens once every 24 hours... until it doesn't. I guess. 
In the meantime, some emails fall through the cracks of all good intentions. 

Anyway, as Cal Newport writes in Deep Work
"[I]n general, those with a minor public presence, such as authors, overestimate how much people really care about their replies to their messages."
Newport's bluntness may sound cruel. I don't think it is; rather, he points to a cruel fact: that even when surrounded by other people, in fundamental ways we are each of us in this Theater of Space-Time alone. Writing is a technology that permits us to send thoughts from one axis of space-time to multiple others. And this is precisely why I write books and why I read books, and why I welcome correspondence, albeit in electronic form. 
[[ In my dreams... Brad Pitt plays
US ambassador to France John Bigelow
and Salma Hayek, Princess Josefa de Iturbide.
Academy awards all around.
Viva! ]]

And no, I am not worried that one day, should my one of my books be made into a movie starring Brad Pitt, or something, I might need to raise the Wall of Silence, or else bring on a bucket brigade of secretaries to cope with cannon-hoses of incoming emails.


Why am I not worried, pray tell? 


(1) Because my 10 point system works splendidly well. 


(2) Furthermore, should the need arise, it would be a simple matter to add more sender filters / templates, and perhaps, now and then, an autoresponder.
"Smombies" are not the guy in the Chewbacca costume.
Watch the WSJ video here.

(3) Moreover, I need only note the numbers of smombies I see on city streets to conclude that, alas, the world of those of us who still have the cognitive focus to actually read the sorts of literary books I write and to engage in thoughtful correspondence is, and seems destined to remain, a cozy one. 


And if I turn out to be wrong, so what? Then I will get a secretary! 
In the meantime, I shall make do with my writing assistants (although, alas, with emails, those two are all paws). 


> Your comments are always welcome. Write to me here.

UPDATE: Further Noodling on Email