“I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you,” reads the email I just sent. “I am kind of The Worst.”
It’s become boilerplate language by now, the admission that I am The Worst — the sheepish, shameful apology shrouded in self-deprecating humor that I send when it takes me more than a month to respond to an email. (Which is often.)
For those generous, kindhearted folks who are about to protest — I do know that I am not actually The Worst. There are a lot of murderers and cannibals out there.
But email is necessary for both business and personal life — an essential life skill in our modern era — and as a writer, I should be good at it.
Besides, it’s not hard, as many, many people have informed me:
- “Just answer your emails when you receive them.”
- “Just block out a time each day or week in which you respond to all of your emails in one fell swoop.”
- “Just create a series of canned responses for various situations.”
- “Just learn how to prioritize.”
- “Just respond and hit ‘Send’ without proofreading or worrying about how you sound.”
- “Just think of your inbox as a treasure chest of opportunity!”
- “Just find someone to help you.”
- “Just get 1% better at it each day.”
- “Wait, aren’t you a writer?”
I’ve tried all of these methods across all three of my Gmail inboxes. I’ve also tried Inbox Zero, folder systems, and autoresponders. But no matter how much I want them to work, and no matter how good I’ve become at building habits, they never stick.
The problem isn’t that I’m lazy, or that I’m just not trying hard enough.
The problem is the multi-step process that each email represents:
- Interrupt or postpone the project I really want to be working on
- Open one of my three Gmail accounts, select an email, and read it
- Parse out the email’s request (e.g., please send over files for __, please write a letter of recommendation for __, please beta read __’s manuscript, etc.)
- Put in the work of fulfilling the request OR find a graceful way of saying no
- Craft a kind, professional, and smart-sounding response
- Edit and proofread the response, ensure the recipient is correct, that all necessary folks are CCed, etc.
- Hit “Send”
- Take a deep breath… and start all over again with the next email
It sounds so orderly, so structured! But when one multiplies this process by 15 or 30 each day, it can quickly overtake one’s actual work.
It would be very easy for this letter to get complain-y — and maybe it already has. But I don’t think I’m alone when I say that my email inbox represents an overwhelming list of tasks that I never asked for or agreed to take on. Tasks for which, the vast majority of the time, I am not getting paid. Tasks that take precious time and energy away from my actual, meaningful work, and yet are still necessary.
So is the problem that I’m not good at email, or that I don’t care to “get better” at email?
First, what would “getting better at email” look like? Ideally, I would respond to each email within 24 hours of receiving it. My inbox would not contain hundreds of unread (or read-and-then-marked-unread-again) emails. I would not panic and immediately begin drowning in overwhelm upon opening my three inboxes. Which all sounds very nice.
So how do I make that happen? What would I need to do? How would I need to change and improve myself? Does it include:
- Lessening my workload?
- Learning how to better manage my time?
- Setting and sticking with an email schedule?
- Making my peace with the fact that email is a necessity of modern life, and it is inevitably going to eat into my writing/family time?
- Becoming less jealous and guarded of my writing time?
- Moving email higher up on my priority list?
- Changing my mindset about email (re: treasure chest of opportunity)?
- Becoming less of a perfectionist?
- All of the above?
All of these are ways in which I could improve… if I cared about “getting better” at email.
(Quick side note: this isn’t necessarily about email. In fact, I invite you to replace email with something you struggle to do — be it washing the dishes, staying in touch with your relatives, fitting exercise into your life, budgeting your finances, getting to work on time, spelling words correctly, keeping your floors clean, querying agents, or sending out your creative work for publication.)
But… is it worth it? What if email (or whatever it is you struggle with) is really far down my (or your) list of priorities? What if I’ve already allocated a pecking order for my 24 daily hours, e.g.: My Marriage > Writing > Family & Friends > Cooking/Eating Healthfully > Showering > Having A Clean House > Learning/Personal Growth > Exercise > Sleep > Self Care > Freaking Out That I Haven’t Released A New Write Now Podcast Episode In Several Months > Email
What are we personally motivated, morally obligated, or societally expected to do when we should “get better” at something that is very low on our list of Things That Matter To Us In Life?
When I’m lying on my deathbed (assuming that I don’t get eaten by a bear out in the woods, or hit by a bus), what will I regret most? Not publishing more books? Not spending more time with my family and friends? Or never having reached Inbox Zero?
That’s not to say email is unimportant, or that there aren’t consequences to our choices and actions. My failure to respond to emails within an acceptable timeframe is both disrespectful and rude to each and every sender, and has likely cost me multiple professional opportunities.
(But… do I want more opportunities when I am already struggling to find time amidst my workload to shower, go for walks, or respond to emails?)
My question today is: Is it okay to be bad at something?
Or, once we recognize and acknowledge something less-than-optimal within ourselves, are we obligated to jump aboard the Continual Improvement Express?
Will I ever “get better” at email? Or will my tombstone be engraved with, I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you — I’m kind of The Worst?
Words & warmth,
Sarah
P.S. If you’ve ever sent me an email, I don’t hate you and I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I promise. It’s not you — it’s me.
This blog post originally appeared over on my Substack, “Dear Creators”. If you’d like to subscribe to have posts sent directly to your inbox, just fill in the box below!