Shifting Focus

On redirecting my attention, a silly scammer story, and a new 'Stack for writers

From our 2016 climb of Glacier Peak

One of my enduring interests is the idea of attention: what we choose to pay attention to, and how readily we allow our attention to be stolen or redirected to other things, often things which are not in our best interests.

I read two really fantastic books on this subject recently. The first was A Deadly Wandering by Matt Richtel. At once a riveting story of a deadly accident and a deep exploration into the science of attention, this book asks such questions as: “What is technology doing to us? Can our minds keep up with the pace of change? How can we find balance.” I moved from there straight to Johan Hari’s Stolen Focus: Why You Can’t Pay Attention—And How to Think Deeply Again, the subtitle of which should be provocation enough to read it. If you ever wonder whether you’re paying attention to the right things, pay attention to these books.

These books helped me recognize that I’ve been stealing attention from myself. I’m not giving myself enough mental space to revise the novel that I drafted here on Substack last year (here’s Chapter 1). To buy myself some time, I’m going slow the pace of my Substack publication to bi-weekly, in order to better focus on the fiction.

My friend Matt, who writes Fog Chaser, deserves a little credit for inspiring this move. Matt publishes a new song once a month … and it’s the silence between posts that makes them so welcome. Clearly, one doesn’t have to publish weekly to be a welcome presence in my inbox.¹ And so for a time, while I direct my attention elsewhere, I will appear less frequently in yours.

Speaking of things stealing your attention, I got this text the other day:

Stupid scammer, right? Clearly a wrong number text scam. I get these all too frequently; you probably do too. Typically I just ignore them or block them. This is what you should do, by the way. In fact, you should not reply. (Mom, I’m talking to you.)

But yesterday I wanted to annoy the scammer. So I replied.

It usually ends here, when the scammer realizes I’m not going to play their stupid game. (Yes, I’ve done this before; remember, I had a long career in cybersecurity). Maybe the scammer hadn’t met their quota yet or maybe they thought I was emotionally vulnerable, looking for a little diversion, because they sent this in return:

So sad! Not that poor “Emily” is so lonely that she’s sending her picture to a stranger. I don’t think for a minute I’m texting with anyone named Emily. No, what’s sad is that anybody ever falls for this crap. Does anyone actually make friends this way?

I’m trying to be minimally responsive, to give them every reason to drop me.² But no, instead I get this:

Oh hell, I can’t stand it anymore! But maybe, just maybe, I’ll break through to them, get them to tell me what they’re really up to.

Guess what? I never heard back.

If you’re interested in all the ins and outs of this scam, Max Read did a great post about this same subject a year ago.

What's the deal with all those weird wrong-number texts?

There is nothing really new here: scammers have been scamming forever! Forever! And people like you and me have been resisting just as long. It’s really simple: don’t pay attention to bullshit.

That’s my little public service announcement.

See you in 2 weeks. Thanks to

Meg Oolders

for the cool trees divider. I'm sitting on two more of her dividers, just looking for the right time to deploy them.

Lastly, writers may be interested in a new Substack with affiliated writing contest that was recently started by my friend Brian Reindel (who is a class act).

1. In fact, I’d argue that publishing too frequently and without adequate attention to quality can be really off-putting.

2. But note, I have told them my name and that I’m married. If they’re organized, they can use this to create a better opener next time, which is a good reason not to tell them real stuff. Do as I say, not as I do. 😐