Category Archives: The Craft

Three Types of Focus (And Why You Should Develop Them)

I wrote this post for Master the Craft, but the lessons apply to all types of writing, not just screenwriting. In upcoming posts I’ll break down how to measure and improve each type…

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FOCUS IS YOUR SHORTCUT

As I explained in my last coaching post, focus is the aspiring writer’s key to success. Everyone has to learn the same lessons. There’s no shortcut around practice, practice, (deliberate) practice.

BUT…and this is the key…focus allows you to learn those lessons as quickly as possible. And focus turns average, only-so-helpful practice into the deliberate practice that will truly make you a better writer.

This is why some casual writers spend decades writing and never get better, while other hyper-focused writers spend what seems like barely any time and quickly rise to the professional level. It’s the difference between studying for a test while texting and watching TV vs. studying for a test in a quiet room at the library. Not all studying is equal. And not all practice is equal.

Once you get your focus training underway, you’ll be ready to look at the three different types of focus…

1. FOCUS IS ENDURANCE

When most people consider increasing their focus, they think about staying on task for a longer period of time. When you’re really busy, do you put your head down and barrel through a marathon of work? Are you consistently, truly productive when you do this? How do you feel when you’re done? And the next day?

See, endurance is important, but it’s not only factor in success. Pushing too hard on your endurance can actually be counter-productive.

As Tony Schwartz and Jim Loehr outline in The Power of Full Engagement, our bodies and minds aren’t meant to run non-stop at full-capacity. Constantly pushing yourself to do more (focus on writing) with less (energy and attention) will lead to burnout.

A better approach is to work with your body’s natural rhythms. Most people’s energy (and thus their ability to stay focused) cycles on a 90-120 minute schedule. You should be able to focus for about the length of a movie, but then you need a break to rest and recharge. It doesn’t need to be a three-hour nap, but a genuine break will give you the energy you need to focus for another 90-120 minute cycle.

Most people don’t have the ability to really focus for more than two 90-120 minute cycles a day. We fill the rest of our working time with admin, distractions, meetings and half-assed work. If you can work with your natural rhythms instead of against them and exercise your ability to focus, you should be able to add an additional 90-120 minute cycle to your day. That gives you a huge advantage when it comes to productivity.

2. FOCUS IS DEPTH

Even more important than how long your focus is how deep you focus.

Shallow focus is hardly focus at all. 60 minutes of scattered writing might only add up to a few minutes of genuine work. And it likely won’t include any practice deliberate enough to truly improve your writing ability. In the end, shallow focus is pretty much a waste of time.

Compare this to deep focus. So deep that you’re 100% absorbed in your work. Oblivious to time and space. This state is called flow, and you’ll recognize it as some of your happiest times writing. When you’re in flow, you’re giving your work everything you have. You’re also probably working at your peak productivity.

Many writers have experienced a state of flow and come out hours later with a completed story or fully-formed scene that seems better than anything they’d written before.

Note that flow is not the same thing as deliberate practice. You can flow during deliberate practice, but being in a state of flow by itself will not make you a better writer. But it will make you a more productive and happier one. Combine flow and deliberate practice and you can really accelerate your progress.

3. FOCUS IS ACCELERATION

How fast can you go from completely distracted to completely focused? Does it take you 15 minutes to settle down and start writing? 30 minutes? 60 minutes? All day?

Consider this: If you have 90 minutes a day, 5 days a week, to write, and it takes you 45 minutes to really buckle down and start working, you’re wasting half of your precious writing time! If you can reduce your start-up time to 15 minutes, you’ll add 2.5 hours of writing a week. Over the course of the year, that adds up to over 125 hours. That’s like adding a three-week writing retreat to your schedule every year!

As a busy aspiring writer, your ability to focus when you need to is where you’ll find the biggest wins in your efforts to master the craft.

ENDURANCE + DEPTH + ACCELERATION = INCREDIBLE PROGRESS

Let’s recap…

If you want to improve the quality and quantity of your writing, you can:

  1. Write for longer periods of time
  2. Concentrate more when you do write
  3. Waste less time getting in the mindset to write

Those three are listed from easiest to hardest. They’re also in order of smallest to largest gains for the aspiring writer.

Each of these by themselves will make a real difference on your writing. If you can improve your focus in more than one of these areas, that’s huge. Imagine adding 30 minutes of deep focus to the start of every writing session. Or adding another 90 minutes of good writing time a few days a week. The difference is huge, and the results compound.

Next week, we’ll look at tactics you can use to build your focus endurance, depth and acceleration.

Until then, which type of focus training do you think would have the biggest impact on your writing?

How to say you’re sorry.

Everyone makes mistakes. Except for businesses.

Businesses have a terrible time admitting they messed up, saying they’re sorry and making amends. I’m not sure how they came to believe that doing so was a sign of weakness. Maybe most businesses worry it opens them up to liability. Which is silly. Either they messed up or they didn’t, and the first step to rebuilding brand trust is admitting their mistake and saying they’re sorry.

A Good Example

I’m not quite sure how I came to be subscribed to Anne Holland’s WhichTestWon newsletter (the result of some “free” information, no doubt), but a few weeks ago, Anne started emailing me. I didn’t pay much attention until I received an email with the subject line “Webinar from H-II … So sorry guys”. Everybody looks at a train wreck…

Anne wrote:

Everyone who's ever done webinars has their war stories.  
 The one where the slides got stuck.  The one where the
 presenter failed to show.  The one with the broken poll.

 This afternoon we plummeted to new depths, and wound up
 presenting our Awards Webinar of the Year ... entirely
 without sound.

 Natalie and I were going crazy behind the scenes trying to
 fix things.  Between us, we've done something like 2,000
 webinars in our time.  But this time we failed.

 Finally I moved the slides along in what our co-presenter
 the gallant Len Shneyder of Unica called a "Charlie Chaplin
 Silent Film" mainly so the nominees could see what they'd
 won.

 So, here's the deal. If you were signed up for the webinar,
 you should have just now gotten an all-new invite with link
 for a repeat performance -- ONLY WITH SOUND THIS TIME --
 next Tuesday at 2pm ET/11am PT.  You do not have to sign
 up again, you're all set.

 PLUS - we are going to post a Case Study with creative
 samples and results data for each winning test (all 36 of them)
 on WhichTestWon.com in a "hall of fame" by this Wednesday.

 So, next week, instead of our regular "Test of the Week"
 you will be getting 36 Case Studies of award-winning tests!

 Mea culpa. I fall on my sword.  This no-sound thing has
 never happened before to us.  Thanks for sticking with us
 while we sort it out and try to make amends.

 Anne

 Anne Holland
 Publisher & Culprit - WhichTestWon.com

An excellent email

Frank, sincere, personal. She admitted her mistake, righted the wrong (rescheduled the webinar) and helped make it up to her subscribers by sending them extra material. A class act.

I wasn’t paying attention to Anne before, but now I am.

Businesses take note: a real apology can be the best sales letter you ever write.

Behold the mighty 3×5 card

Sometimes the hardest part about writing isn’t finishing. It’s starting. Computers, for all their value, exacerbate this problem. And the Internet…terrible, terrible, terrible when it comes to productivity.

We know the solutions. Single task, single touch, to do lists and so on. But sometimes it’s a challenge just getting to the point you can use these hacks. How can you skip from sitting down right to working without losing 5 to 10 to 20 minutes a pop checking in and clicking around? (That time really adds up.)

There’s willpower. But that’s a limited resource. (And pushing yourself through a productive day might mean an evening full of raids on the fridge. You don’t want to rob Peter to pay Paul.)

A more helpful approach, oddly enough, is to slow down. Put a list of focusing questions between you and your work. I’ve found this works best if I keep a stack of 3×5 cards on my desk, right in my way so I’ll be sure to see them every time I sit down.

How it works

1. When you sit down to work, take a card. Write your TASK at the top. Keep it simple. This might be “Ad” or “Brochure” or “Brainstorm”. Just a little note to point you in the right direction.

2. Next, write GOAL and add what you’d like to accomplish. Actually write “GOAL”, then whatever you goal is. For example: “GOAL: Outline site map for intranet.” or “GOAL: Brainstorm ad headlines.”

3. Next, note your DEADLINE. Include both the time you’ll stop working (e.g “3:15 pm”) and the length of time (2 hours). And be realistic. Your mind and body naturally flow in 90-120 minute rhythms. You can sandwich multiple work sessions around mini-breaks, but keeping your units of measurement under two hours helps keep your work manageable and your spirits up.

4. Next, write VALUE and clarify exactly how this work will benefit you. Putting this in writing is a powerful way to energize yourself, especially on difficult, mundane or lengthy projects. Maybe the work is its own reward. Maybe the work is dull but helps someone else. Maybe it’s good for your career. Maybe it’s a good way to build your skills. Tap into the why.

5. Next, decide how you’re going to PUSH yourself. Life is too short to coast. Find a way to improve your skills each time you sit down. That could mean digging deeper for more creative solutions to an ad. Or trying to humanize your copy. Or working to craft funnier dialogue. Or if the work is rote, at least try to work faster so you can finish earlier and focus on something you do enjoy.

6. Finally, decide what you’re going to do on your BREAK. Write it down. Pick something you’ll actually enjoy. It’s easier to focus and push yourself when you know you have a break coming at a set time and you’ll be doing something fun.

Now start working.

Try it

Altogether, this activity only takes a minute or two. And while it’s not necessary, that minute or two helps you start working faster, better and happier. And by tapping both your rational and emotional side, you can boost your productivity without sapping your willpower.

Not bad for a 3×5 card.

Introducing Master the Craft

Readers of this blog know that productivity and creativity are two of my favorite topics, especially when it comes to writing.

  • How do you develop your craft and ship art out the door when you have a full-time job, a spouse or kids – or all three?
  • How do you get better at writing if you don’t have a mentor or the time and money to go back to school?
  • How do you consistently produce a high-quality and high-quantity of work on demand?

The challenges are the same whether you’re writing ads, screenplays, novels or nonfiction. Learning how to be a writer is just as difficult and just as important as learning how to write. And it’s often overlooked because the process isn’t easy or quick.

So how do you do it?

A BETTER WAY TO MASTER THE CRAFT

There are no shortcuts to mastering the craft.

However, there are many strategies (and a few simple tools) you can use to accelerate your progress. You can study how previous masters built their skills and follow their best practices. You can hack the learning process to optimize your progress. You can build systems and habits that support your training.

These are just a few of the ideas behind my new venture: Master the Craft.

I’m applying my education design and personal development experience to mastering the craft of writing. I’ll be focusing on screenwriting, but many of the lessons will apply to any type of writing. (And when they do, I’ll be sure to share them here, too, with a wider range of examples.)

After many months in development, it’s thrilling to kick off the New Year with the launch of Master the Craft!

Want to learn more? Check it out…

The blog: Master the Craft

You can also follow along on Twitter, Facebook or RSS.

Editing as Poetry

Another thing we learned was that…

Another thing we learned was…

We also learned that…

We also learned…

We learned…

From Jason Fried.

How do you know when you’re done?

How do you know when you’re done? You never do.

Claude Monet

Like many artists, Monet was temperamental. His mood was usually an extension of how his painting was going that day. Now, he’s a master, so you’d think his painting would usually go well. This wasn’t the case, at least in his eyes. Regardless of public opinion (he was hated at the beginning and loved at the end), Monet was consistently critical of himself. He also constantly pushed himself with new techniques and subjects, trying to capture increasingly fleeting plays of light and color.

Still, many of his early paintings are considered masterpieces. Not just as forerunners of coming work, but as fantastic accomplishments in their own right. Yet during all this time, Monet fretted and bickered and scratched out hundreds of paintings in progress. Something inside him drove him to push harder with each painting, to reach new levels of accomplishment that others may not even have been able to notice.

Alexa Johnson

My wife. A talented poet and copywriter, she proofs much of my writing. I had pushed a recent copywriting project as far as I could see to take it. And while I was happy about some of my work, other parts I wasn’t so sure about. Confused, stressed, I gave my work to my wife.

Her feedback was insightful and gave me confidence that I was on the right track. But as she said, I needed to take it even further. With that confidence, I took up my pencil again and tightened the writing even more, pushing it forward again until I wasn’t sure if it was any good at all.

John Cleese

I recently watched a speech Cleese gave on writing and creativity. In it, he made an unusual observation:

To know how good you are at something requires the same skills as it does to be good at that thing. Which means, if you’re absolutely hopeless at something, you lack exactly those skills you need to know you’re absolutely hopeless at it. This is a profound discovery. That most people who have no idea what they’re doing have no idea they have no idea what they’re doing. It explains a great deal of life….It explains why so many people who are in charge of so many organizations have no idea what they’re doing. They have a terrible blind spot.

How do you know when you’re done?

John Cleese is right. We can’t fully judge our own success — at least in subjective, fuzzy pursuits like art and management and creativity — unless we’ve previously been successful in that specific way. Now turn that on its head. If you can attest to the high-quality of your work, you’re not pushing yourself forward. If you’re happy and confident about your work, you’re just going through the motions.

Part of Monet’s greatness was consistently working beyond his comfort level. My worry that my work may have been drivel was actually a good sign. It meant I was growing as a writer. Of course, my work may well have been bad writing (and some of it was), but that’s alright; failure is a part of growth.

How do you know when you’re done? You never do. But if you still feel good about your work, you’re not there yet.

Burn through the cliches with freewriting

I just finished reading Mark Levy’s Accidental Genius, a short book on the power of freewriting. Basically, writing nonstop on a set topic for a predetermined amount of time. I’ve used this technique with both creative and business projects to  to great success. You don’t need to read Levy’s book to benefit from freewriting — just pick a topic, set a timer and write! — but he offers a number of clever tips and hacks to optimize the value of your effort. Given that his guide is just a pinch over 100 breezy pages, it’s worth your time.

In particular, I appreciated his advice on freewriting on one topic for one session, highlighting the best results, picking one and freewriting on that one next. Most of the time, the best solutions aren’t right in front of you. This is especially true for writers. Whether you’re crafting an ad or telling a story, the obvious is usually a cliche, usually boring and usually a mistake.

But that’s how our brains are wired. We’re programmed to find the simplest, most obvious solution first. You have to identify these missteps so you can avoid them and start to uncover more novel, more poetic, or more telling solutions. Part of the reasons these new solutions are so engaging and enjoyable is because the audience — well-versed in story and advertising norms — is naturally and automatically expecting the cliches. Even if an outcome has to be cliche — the superhero is going to stop the villain — how they accomplish that outcome shouldn’t be. There’s always room to innovate.

You know you’re getting somewhere when you can’t think of any more easy solutions. Neither can your audience. Keep writing. Your solutions now have the potential to really make an impact.

Mark Levy’s Accidental Genius

The Heights of Story

I don’t want to be a copywriter.

Who would? It’s a terrible title. Uninspiring and, I’ve come to believe, limiting.

Copywriter: A writer of copy. It just sounds mechanical and formulaic. How can you be original when you’re writing copy? Copywriter: “Just add words.” I’ve actually been told to do this by a client. Not only is it terrible marketing, it’s demoralizing, too.

Certainly there’s something better…

The Heights of Design

I’ve been studying graphic designers for a month now. At the top of their form, designers are a fascinating lot. Very creative, astute businesspeople. Driven iconoclasts. Independent, confident and social artists. At its best and fullest, design isn’t about filling space on a page, it’s about creating an experience, shaping culture and making life more interesting.

Design stretches from the graphic design in advertising into product design, architecture, interior design, interactive and experience design, brand identity and art. At these higher levels, designers are capable of great, meaningful and lasting work. And it’s interesting that the higher you climb up the design tree, the more important the idea. Put another way, the difference between a master designer and a novice designer is more about vision and taste than technical skill.

Which makes me wonder…

Do writers have equivalent aspirations?

I hadn’t thought about it in these terms before.

A copywriter can become a Creative Director and advance up the corporate ladder, even venturing into brand identity and product design. Talented copywriters are often great strategists; in fact, some of my best work as a “copywriter” has been in brand identity and marketing strategy.

Writers can also pursue art — writing plays or poems or novels. Writers can be entertainers, be it as screenwriters or satirists or storytellers in a variety of media. Another option is education: journalists, pundits, scholars or explainers. These are the obvious career paths.

Maybe there are others.

Designers manipulate our senses. Mostly sight, but also sound, smell, touch and taste. Writers manipulate story. Whether real or fictional, writers organize people and events to create compelling narratives. This could be Moby Dick or the copy in the mailer for a special weight loss shake. Moby Dick certainly requires greater skill, but the fundamental action is the same: Coming up with a story and writing it down. However, perhaps it’s time for writers to liberate themselves from the written word and apply their skills to real people and real events.

I’m a Story Designer.

I can write your story, but how I sequence the words is only one part of my talent. The other part, the greater part, is how I shape your story. How I take the random and overwhelming jumble that is real life and whittle it down into a taut narrative that not only makes sense but produces meaning and emotion, even change.

I do this in my fiction and screenwriting. But I also do it in my “copywriting”. I help clients shape their stories, but with marketing strategy and brand identity, even product design and experience design, the storytelling comes to life. Instead of writing with words, I’m writing with real people and real events. This can create meaning and emotion for both the employees and their customers as well as change in the bottom line.

Of course, we don’t have to stop at the corporate level. A writer’s story skills can benefit humanity, too. We can create meaning and emotion and change at the community level, even globally. This is what tribe-building is all about. Tribes are more than just groups of people with similar interests sharing links and chatting about select topics. Tribes are about narrative, movement, change, growth and meaning. It’s story design writ large.

Maybe our identity as writers is distracting us from telling greater stories?

I’m not sure, but I do know this: Don’t get too hung up on the words. The higher you go as a writer, the more important the story and the less important the words. After all, the greatest stories we tell — our marriages, our children, our careers — don’t really have words at all.

Rethinking Twitter

I hate the phrase real time.

For one, it’s an oxymoron. Time is, after all, an invention, a mental construct we impose on reality because it’s convenient. This is more than semantics. Our greatest work and joys occur in stretches of focused, timeless mindfulness. Also known as flow. The more weight we give the construct of time, the greater it’s gravitational pull on our minds (and in turn our work and happiness).

More than that, though, what bothers me about real time is the notion that what’s happening online is more real, and by implication more important, than what’s happening in your life in the moment. This is false, but this is exactly the belief we’re acting upon when we regularly check our email or feeds. Twitter may be more interesting than your life, but logging on won’t fix that problem.

The trouble doesn’t stop there.

The truth is, we do want to be connected. We’re social creatures and we each have family and friends, associates and heroes, even a few businesses that we want to keep up with. But how connected should we be? Following every move of every interesting party in our lives is a distracting, draining, even self-defeating endeavor.

First, in real time everything is the same. Your tweet about the tasty burrito you just ate is treated the same as your announcement about your new product line. Maybe you can compare updates by the number of likes, retweets or comments, but how much do you want to crowdsource your info filter? Is the time saved worth the unavoidable homogenization of your intellect? Who’s to say the crowd is even right? Most breakthroughs in art, science and business come from individuals (or small groups) operating outside the mainstream.

Second, is keeping up with anyone in real time even necessary? Aside from missing limited-time offers (which are rare and usually worth avoiding anyway), any comment or link or post that’s put up will still be there when you get around to it. Asynchronicity, we forget, is part of what makes the web so powerful. This mad rush for synchronicity misses the obvious point: We clearly live in “real time” already and interacting in that space is infinitely richer than having a conversation on Twitter, instant messaging or viewing a webinar.

Here’s an experiment to prove my point: Challenge yourself to let your feeds sit for a day or a week. However long it takes for you to really start squirming, worrying that you’re missing out. Then check. How many feeds do you actually read? There’s some good content to catch up on, for sure, but most has a half-life in hours, if not minutes. Divorced from the hollow value of immediacy, most content isn’t worth your time.

Third, keeping up with real time makes your life harder. The sound byte foundation of real time — and Twitter in particular — only compounds the flaws and dangers of interacting in real time. Limited to 140 characters, we’re forced to be concise and engaging, but this discipline stops there. To be heard, to build a valuable web presence, we have to tweet more. One single tweet, no matter how good, is easily lost in the fray. The result: We’re watering down the messages we worked so hard to condense, burying our own gems.

Plus, living in real time is a nonstop race to be first. First to hear the news, first to read this post, first to watch this video, etc. The problem with first, aside from being tiring, is that the margins are tiny. It takes a lot of time and energy to close that final gap, and I’d argue the rewards don’t justify it. What if you gave up trying to be in the know and devoted that time and energy to improving your skills or spending more time with friends and family?

A short suggestion.

What if we took Twitter’s “less is more” mantra to heart. 140 characters is a good start, but what if we also limited the number of tweets each user could post each day? Why not one per day. Imagine how the value of each tweet would skyrocket. Twitter already is, I’ll admit, an excellent link sharing tool, but if you can only tweet once a day, how many “kinda interesting but not essential” links would you post? How many inspirational or funny quotes would you send to your hundreds or thousands of followers? How many ironic observations would be worth your limited bandwidth?

Twitter started a revolution. Let’s keep it going.

How technology is killing the art of writing (and what to do about it)

I’m in trouble.

We’re all in trouble, actually, but the growing research on how technology affects out attention and creativity is particularly frightening for writers. Both in terms of producing meaningful work (if any) and being read (and appreciated) by others.

The Science

Scientists used to believe that after childhood the brain had finished growing. We now know this isn’t true. Practicing an activity can strengthen and grow the neural pathways involved with that activity. That’s why playing video games can boost your visual acuity and hand-eye coordination. Surfing the web has been shown to boost your ability to judge the potential merit of information — in other words, your ability to scan.

As such, your brain is like a muscle. Use it or lose it, except training one part of it doesn’t necessarily help another. Just as doing curls won’t bulk up your quads, surfing the web won’t strengthen your deep thinking skills. This becomes a problem because the way we’re using our brains is changing. Over time, our information load has steadily increased; over the past few decades, that load has skyrocketed. TV, music, print, advertising — we’re surrounded with more and more stimuli, much of which we can’t help but consume.

And, of course, computers and the Internet, the 800 lbs. gorilla in the corner. Most people today spend hours on their computers and online, inundated with links, email, updates, feeds and multimedia distractions. Information workers, like writers, may spend even more time plugged-in. All of this “training” is rewiring our brains as sophisticated scanning machines, built to zip through large amounts of information for new or novel or helpful bits, which is one reason why we’re so drawn to surfing the web and checking our email. That’s what our brain wants to do. Just don’t ask it to slow down and focus, to be creative or to think deeply about anything. It’s now longer built for those tasks.

Scientists liken this need to check in with an addiction to food or sex; some is necessary but too much can be debilitating. But addiction is the key word. Each info fix releases a bit of dopamine, a little rush, and if you cut off the supply you crash.

Stop. Consider that. Email and the Internet are addicting. Are you hooked? How often do you check your email, Facebook, feed reader or Twitter account when you know very well there’s nothing there, certainly nothing of import. Nothing you would have scheduled time for in your day. Nothing you will look back on in a year or two and say “I’m glad I did that!”. Do you hop onto the “information superhighway” for a reason, for a set amount of time, or do you get on out of habit, to kill time or even mindlessly?

Surfing the web when you’re bored seems harmless. Nothing else is going on, right? But what if you’re bored because you surf the web and have for years? What are you missing out on?

The Consequences

Some people define an addiction as an uncontrollable habit that’s interfering with your life. This need to be plugged in is certainly affecting our lives, wasting time and distracting us from more important pursuits like our families and friends, our careers and goals, even our spirituality. But worse, this runaway behavior is rewiring our brains. Hours and hours on computers and the web is teaching us to be scanners; to think broadly, not deeply; to make connections, not create new content. The exact opposite skills we need to be successful in most fields.

Studies have already sown that humans are terrible multitaskers. Given multiple stimuli, we’re more likely to make mistakes, miss solutions, be less creative and give up sooner. All of these are ingredients for failure. Put another way, our technology is increasing the odds that we will fail at any complex, extended undertaking, such as writing a book, starting a business, raising a child, creating a beneficial habit, quitting a bad habit or learning a new skill.

Current research shows that success in any professional endeavor requires, on average, about 10,000 hours of “deliberate practice”. That’s 10 years at 20 hours a week, but the real kicker is “deliberate”. That’s focused, uninterrupted, engaged practice in which you’re really pushing yourself to learn and achieve. Hard to do if you have to keep stopping to check your iPhone.

Fighting the Urge

You can not check your email. You can use software to block key websites or avoid logging on altogether. You can turn off your phone and the radio and give all your attention to the task at hand. But it’s not easy. When the urge arises — when you need that dopamine fix — it takes a fair amount of willpower to stay on task. Let’s say you succeed and keep writing for 10 minutes…until the urge hits again. You have to summon your willpower again, and again, and again…

The catch, of course, is that humans have a limited supply of willpower. We can only use so much before we’re drained and susceptible to our lesser whims and urges. It’s no wonder we run on auto-pilot so much, from always putting on our clothes the same way to driving the same route home from work. Turning these routine tasks into conscious decisions uses willpower and reduces your overall amount of self-control and ability to focus.

This is one reason why the web is so destructive to productivity: it’s filled with pages and pages of little willpower hurdles. Each hyperlink is a question: Do you keep reading or choose this new path? Studies have shown that people read and comprehend less when reading online vs. from a book. Sidebars and headers also distract. Studies have show that extraneous material and graphics reduce throughput, comprehension and concentration. Reading online — as most of what we do online is reading — is like running a gauntlet. Even if you make it to the end, there’s a good chance that you’ll be tired and have missed the scenery.

To add insult to injury, many former book lovers find that their new online lives have eroded their ability to immerse themselves in a book. and now that everyone has the means to share their own story, many aspiring writers are finding that they’re no longer capable of doing the work the technology was supposed to facilitate.

What’s a Writer to Do?

For writers, the trouble is two-fold:

  1. How to improve the quality and quantity of your writing
  2. How to accommodate this new reader behavior and get read

Helping the writer

For all the bleakness over our dwindling attention spans and decimated willpower, there is hope. Studies show that you can build your willpower. Like your brain, like your muscles, it will improve with use. So while you may only be able to resist the siren song of email for 15 minutes today, if you keep trying, you can increase it to 30, 60, 120 minutes and more.

Also, willpower has been linked to blood sugar levels. Glucose, our brain’s fuel, gives us the power for self-control. Perhaps this is one reason why offices are such unproductive places in the late afternoon. Everyone is sugar-crashing and can’t resist the urge to chat and surf the web. Better managing for sugar levels — eating regularly and avoiding junk foods (which come with a sugar spike and crash) — can help.

Another approach is to get as far away from the distracting, productivity-crippling technology as possible. Not to be a Luddite, but what if your writing space and your computer workstation weren’t the same? What if your first draft of any project was handwritten? Get out of the office if you have to. This adds some transcription time, but the net result may still be increased productivity, not to mention more creative and insightful writing. And if your handwritten work is better, maybe you’ll need fewer drafts overall? (By the way, this post was hand-written in 2-3 hours.)

Also, write at the beginning of the day when you’re most rested and have just eaten a good breakfast. Before you’re tired and before your sugar naturally depletes, you should be able to do markedly better work than you can in the afternoon or evening.

Finally, and this is just plain hard work, start to wean yourself off your addiction to technology and the web. More information isn’t necessarily the solution. Define what you need to know, find that information (which shouldn’t take long since you’re quite experienced at that) and be done with it. This change won’t happen overnight. You will falter along the way. But the end result is worth it: more time, attention and enjoyment for your writing. Plus, as more and more people struggle with the technology-driven ADD, being a writer who can consistently produce a significant amount of quality content will become more of a competitive advantage.

But what about your readers?

You may be able to protect your attention and creativity from the onslaught of technology, but most of your readers will likely be the distracted, tired scanners of the 21st century. How to you reach them?

A few obvious tactics: write in smaller chunks, use simple sentences, pay attention to your headlines and subheadlines. But is this writing down to your audience? It’s clear, but does it leave deeper thought and subtlety at the door? Maybe. One alternative might be segmentation. Here, you’d have a mini-version of your message for the especially-distracted or partially-interested, then you’d have a full version for those people with the ability and interest to read more.

Your site and post design can help, too. If the goal is to read the copy, emphasize the writing and minimize the images, graphics and links surrounding it. This should improve throughput. Moving all your hyperlinks to the end of your post can reduce the reader’s cognitive load, too. Some sites, even purported writing sites, are so crammed full of links and ads as to be unreadable…until you realize the point isn’t reading and learning; it’s drawing people deeper into the web of the site and increasing the odds ofmaking a sale. What’s your goal?

I also wonder if there’s reason to shift as much content off the web as you can. Whether it’s ebooks or back to print, the point would be to move the reader off the web, with all its distractions, into a medium over which you have more control and can better shape the reading experience. This flies against the growing commoditization of content, but it may be necessary. When everyone sells corn, the market sets the price; but when you differentiate yourself by going organic or fair trade or local, you can get people’s attention and charge more. Likewise, when content is ubiquitous and worthless, the solution may be to be different and set up some walls.

Finally, maybe a new style of writing is called for, one that’s more front-loaded and clear about the benefits of reading, be it fiction or nonfiction. Writing that’s less academic and indulgent and more practical and human. It’s not that people don’t read, it’s just that with so many inputs, people need writing to be really engaging and meaningful to hold their attention. In this sense, our content-overload may not just be distracting, it may also have raised the bar for writers. We must do more with less. Just as athletes set new records every year, artists must continually improve to make their mark, too. If we don’t, we risk never being heard at all.

Sources:

Nick Carr has much to say on the subject of how the Internet is affecting our brains:

The Web Shatters Focus, Rewires Brains
Is Google Making Us Stupid?
The Shallows
Delinkification

Other related stories:

Brain Willpower Depleted By Use
Tighten Your Belt, Strengthen Your Mind
Hooked on Gadgets, and Paying a Mental Price
The Risks of Parenting While Plugged In

On 10,000 hours of practice:

Talent Is Overrated
Outliers