February 5, 2006

Email Deluge

For THIS IS DUNCAN, I am currently writing non-fiction, fiction, and poetry at a rate of between four-hundred and three-thousand edited words per day, every day. This extrapolates out to between a-hundred-and-forty-six-thousand and one-point-one-million edited words per year. That's the equivalent of somewhere between one and ten novels each year.

I'm not sure how this is possible because I seem to be spending only one or two hours a day on it. I suppose that I have a lot of inspiration and that it's flowing very smoothly.

I don't know how long this will last for. It could stop tomorrow or next month. Or it might last until I'm eighty or until I die. It feels really nice so I hope it keeps going. Every time I have counted the number of topics on my list it has increased; the total now stands at eighty-three.

Let's say that it's going to average out to the equivalent of five books per year. Many people can't find the time to read five books per year anyway, and especially not from the same author. This means that most people who receive these emails are going to need to know how to deal with then.

There are a lot of people who are subscribed. I really love that there are so many people who want to read what I write. There are some people who read everything: one reader confessed that she "devours" the emails — I hope she's printing them on rice paper. Some people read them and never or rarely respond, while others comment regularly. Some people let them accumulate and then read them.

I don't want anyone to feel under pressure to read my writing. If you're reading it because you feel an obligation to, then please don't. Read it because you enjoy it. If you don't like it then tell me how I can make it better. If the emails are really bothering you then please unsubscribe.

Most people don't need to unsubscribe though, they just need to be delete-key-conscious. When you get one of these emails take a look at the subject first. If you're still a little bit interested then scan through the email. Perhaps something will catch your eye like, "Grinning ecstatically, she grabbed hold of the huge cock with both hands before taking it inside; her oven awaited." [1] Then think clearly: If I had time, would I want to read this?

That scanning and thinking process should take less than ten seconds. Once you've done that, you have three choices:

1. Press the delete key.
2. Drag it into a folder called something like "THIS IS DUNCAN".
3. Read it.

Reading one of these emails is going to take you between three and ten minutes. So unless you have nothing else more important to spend that time doing, then you can read it. If you decided that you would read it if you had time, but you don't have time, then get it out of your inbox, out of your sight, and into the "THIS IS DUNCAN" folder. Otherwise just delete it and forget about it. Sometime later, when you have between three and ten minutes and nothing else better to be doing with your time, then go and pick an article from your "THIS IS DUNCAN" folder.

When you do decide to read an article, you might want to click on the link at the bottom of the email called, "Permanent link to this article on the web". The reason is that the online version will have various corrections and improvements that were made after the email was sent. The online version may also have a nice picture.

If you're a devotee then please continue to be besotted. On the other hand, if you have a strained relationship with my emails then I hope that I've helped you to see how you might manage that relationship in order to get the most from THIS IS DUNCAN and from your life.

When I speak with you and I ask "did you read ... ?", please know that I do not expect you to read anything that I write. I'm really trying to stop myself from asking that. I think it could get really annoying.

By the way, this article took forty-one minutes to write and edit. It usually takes about one third of the time to do the writing and the other two thirds to do the editing.

[1] Before concluding that this is not actually erotic, consider that in Britain the womb is sometimes refered to as an oven as in: "She's got a bun in her oven." Which means that she is pregnant. However, you may interpret it as you like.