You Should Be Doing More.

Everyone Says So.

The Productivity Scam (aka Why My To-Do List Is Trying to Kill Me)

Every day, my inbox fills up with friendly little messages promising transformation:
Take this class, and you’ll finally connect with your readers!
Join this workshop, and you’ll sell books like wildfire!
Do this one trick, and you’ll become the next literary sensation!

Sure. Sounds great.
Except—if I actually did all the things these emails suggest, I’d have no time to do the one thing that actually matters: finish the damn book.

And the bottom line: all these magical courses? Not free.
They cost money. Sometimes a lot of it. And if I spend all my money learning how to be a better writer or sell more books, I won’t have any left to pay my editor or buy a good-looking cover. You know—things that actually do help sell books.

So my highly sophisticated response to most of these emails is:
I don’t even open them.
Delete. Swipe. Goodbye forever, “Dear Author!”

Now, if you are going to spend money, here’s a tip:
Go to a conference. Meet real people. See if someone lights a creative fire in you.
If they do, then maybe take their class. Or better—talk to someone who already has.
Because just because someone made money self-publishing back in the indie gold rush of 2012 doesn’t mean they’re still crushing it today. A lot of them realized it’s way more profitable to teach other writers “how to publish” than to, you know, actually do it.

(Hot take: if someone starts every sentence with “when I hit the top of the charts back in 2011…”—run.)

But I digress.
Back to the point of this post—if I can even remember what it was, because my brain is like a browser with 73 tabs open and at least four of them are playing music or a video and I have no idea which ones.

Oh, right: being productive is a trap.

I’m a 71-year-old retired woman who writes romance novels. And I take it seriously—I write almost every day. Last year, I self-published three books and write this publication, too. This year? Probably three more, plus I’m writing one that I’m planing to pitch to an agent, because it isn’t like my other books.

I also teach art to five of my nine grandkids every Wednesday (yes, nine,) take care of a house, a husband, and still manage to travel without losing my mind or passport.

And yet—despite allegedly being “retired”—I have a To-Do List that looks like I’m preparing for a lunar landing. The one above is a smaller one, and only includes tasks for one day.

Seriously, if my life looks like this, I cannot fathom what a working mom of toddlers or a full-time employee trying to write on the side is dealing with. How are any of us still functioning? Is it just caffeine and spite at this point?

And please don’t tell me to "breathe" or “go to the gym.”
It’s on the list. I go. I breathe, meditate. I yoga, or pretend to chill.
And while I’m doing downward dog, my brain is screaming, “You should be updating your book blurb!” and “You still haven’t emailed back to that person that emailed you yesterday, you slacker.”
Very zen.

And the list? That innocent-looking to-do list that’s supposed to keep me “on track”?
Yeah, it mostly exists to remind me how much I didn’t do, what a failure I am.
The minute I finish one thing, five more show up. Like hydra heads. But more passive-aggressive.

Meanwhile, I don’t even have little kids anymore. I have grown children—yet somehow, I’m still putting out fires. How are there still this many fires?! Is something on actual fire?? My ass, maybe.

And then there’s the guilt. Always guilt.
The book didn’t sell. Why not?
Was it the cover? The description?
Or is it the ending, the sex scenes? What?
Or maybe I just need to answer one of those 300 emails from someone promising to fix my career.

Which one?
None?
Delete.

Meanwhile, I’m bouncing between tabs like the squirrels outside my window, trying to steal from my bird feeders, and somehow getting little done.

And then I sit down to write about my character’s emotional growth—while emotionally unraveling myself.

Remind me again why “being productive” is so amazing?

Because whoever sold us that myth, that relentless “hustle harder” lie?
That person is a huckster. Probably selling a $999 masterclass on “Time Management for Creative People.”

Hard pass.

How about you? How are you doing it?