Thanksgiving was last week. I’m about as American as they come, but I don’t currently live in America, so the traditional beginning of the holiday season just kind of came and went for me and my family. We had chicken last Thursday.
But I did just get into Cold Turkey. Not the bird, but the app. If you’re interested in dialing in your productivity, it’s worth checking out. The software will block certain websites and apps that you select, allowing you the freedom to stay on point when you sit down at the keyboard.
I’ve been using it for just a few days, but it’s already clear Cold Turkey is a boon to my productivity. I especially like the fact that you can set up a schedule with the software. What I did was set a morning window during which, essentially, the only thing I can access on my computer are the files and programs I need to write. YouTube, email . . . I’ve blocked all that shit during my morning “deep work” period, and it works great.
There’s a bunch of these types of programs out there, but the only one I can recommend is Cold Turkey. I like the fact that it’s a one time payment for the software, and I can report from personal experience that their customer service is great (I accidentally bought the wrong package–I needed the “pro” version, since I wanted to use the scheduling feature–and they quickly refunded the extra money I’d spent and got me set up with only what I needed).
One thing I’ve learned is that writing novels requires habitual practice. You have to step up to the plate, or sit down at the keyboard as it were, every. single. day. And not only that, but just sitting down isn’t enough. Your head must be in the game. There’s no way around this. And that’s just the price of admission.
In that light, for me, the forty bucks or so I spent on Cold Turkey is a no-brainer. If you struggle with online distractions like I do, you might consider it.
Okay. If I talk any more about this I’ll start to sound like a commercial, so let me just leave it at that.
Thanks for listening. Catch you next week.
jason