Blogger: Janet Kobobel Grant
You’ve probably heard of Parkinson’s Law: Work expands to fill the time available to complete it.
But have you heard of Parkinson’s Law of Triviality?
Both apply to those of us engaged in the publishing industry and provide essential guidelines for being productive and working on the right tasks.
We’ve all seen the truth of Parkinson’s Law. The day starts, bursting with potential for productivity. Next thing you know, the clock has ticked its way to the end of your work time, and while you felt as though you applied yourself to the task, you didn’t accomplish all that much. Truth is, you probably let the work you had in mind to complete expand until the day was done.
When was the last time you not only cleared out your to-do list but also accomplished more? Probably once in a blue moon.
Parkinson’s Law of Triviality also plays havoc in our lives. By the way, C. Northcote Parkinson wrote a book about both principles in 1957, and his book, Parkinson’s Law, became a must-read among managers of all stripes.
The Law of Triviality states that the more complex an issue, the less time spent on it. Parkinson illustrated the principle with this example: A corporate executive committee finds on its agenda a discussion about building a nuclear power plant. With little conversation, the committee unanimously approves the reactor. The consensus is the issues are too confusing and the committee should just trust the experts.
But they spend considerable time arguing over far less important but much easier to understand items on the agenda. For example, should they use galvanized tin for the employees’ bike shed.
The nickname for this concept is “bikeshedding” because of Parkinson’s example of how the principle works.
Writers bikeshed all the time. Rather than face the cold reality that you’ve failed to build a brand and that your writing career has cut a swath as wide as a cruise ship, you divert your attention to fine-tuning your WIP’s chapter outline.
Rather than talk to your agent about your plummeting sales figures, you load Hootsuite with a month’s worth of tweets.
Agents bikeshed as well. Rather than do the heavy lifting and complex work of developing inroads into a new category to represent, an agent chooses to continue trying to sell more projects into a genre that’s clearly tired and about to go on life support. Or maybe clearing the clutter out of the office moves to the front of the to-do list.
Rather than enter into complex and difficult discussions with a publisher who has added new, severe and punishing paragraphs to the contract, the agent asks the publisher to change a few minor items and then sends it on to the author to sign.
Publishers likewise bikeshed. Rather than figure out how to make publishing more profitable long-term, it’s pretty tempting to lower advances and stand fast on the royalty rate for digital books–even though, with a long view, neither choice is healthy for the industry or for the artists creating the content.
Or remaindering a book that didn’t sell up to expectations, not considering that, once those copies enter into the stream of reading, they’ll keep popping up as used books on Amazon and in used bookstores. While a small amount was made on remaindering, as opposed to destroying the copies, those used books float around the reading planet like flotsam in space. They supply individuals with cheap reading material rather than the person buying a current title, which would benefit the publisher and the author. Bikeshedding.
Rather than look for or develop new sales channels, put more pressure on the sales team to bring in bigger orders from the same outlets the publisher has been turning to for decades.
You can see how devastating both of Parkinson’s Laws are: One leaves us depleted but relatively unproductive at the end of the day. The other eschews taking a long and hard look at the future, figuring out how to move forward in the face of complex and ever-shifting challenges.
Mr. Parkinson may have called our attention to these laws in 1957, but we seem to have done little to overcome them since then. I personally want to take on the challenge and discipline myself to be proactively productive and to be brave enough to face the hard issues. Even though my answers may be imperfect, they’re preferable to focusing on the trivial or the easy.
In what ways do you see Parkinson’s Laws in action either as a writer or in the publishing industry? What will you do to avoid living out either law?
TWEETABLES
Parkinson’s Laws and publishing: Why publishers must pay attention. Click to tweet.
Has bikeshedding kept you from achieving your writing goals? Click to tweet.
Image courtesy of dan at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Interesting post…well, as always!
* One way in which I suspect publishers bikeshed is in the “me, too!” following of trends. From the plethora of truly ghastly technothrillers that followed Tom Clancy’s coherent efforts in the 80s to the dreadful dystopian stories that ran on the heels of…well, other really bad stories, publishers seemed to be saying, “quick, shovel it in, these people will read ANYTHING with a nuclear winter…and let’s throw in some zombies, too.”
* As a writer, I find that I don’t really bikeshed, but it’s no particular virtue. Any writing position is so physically uncomfortable these days that I have no incentive to chase research rabbit trails, or look for the ‘perfect’ word. My job is to get the message across; the perfect word will come up in a future edit, or it won’t, but it just hurts too darn much to hang over the keyboard waiting for the muse to leap in and guide my thoughts.
* As an adjunct to the above, I do try to find avenues that encourage fast and to the point writing. Five Minute Fridays (www.katemotaung.com) have been a boon, and I recently discovered a short fiction weekly “challenge”, based on a keyword…and won my very first writing contest with my entry! Look up #BlogBattle, at http://www.rachaelritchey.com
* In terms of what I’m actually doing – I’m devoting the bulk of my effort now to building platform. I have some manuscripts in the drawer, but to give the a realistic chance I have to build a distinctive brand. I may still be bikeshedding by concentrating on blogging, and eschewing the social media streams I personally dislike, such as FB and Twitter. I tell myself that there’s wisdom in concentrating on the area in which one has a strength…but maybe that’s a convenient way of fooling myself into following the comfortable path. Your thoughts, Janet?
* Finally, the disparity between what we accomplish and what we think we can accomplish presupposes that we have an accurate idea of both the magnitude of the task, and of our abilities that can be brought to bear. For myself – I’m always tempted to measure what I accomplish today based on the yardstick of what I used to be able to do, but that yardstick is distorted by hope, fear, and the rose-tinted glasses of memory. Fatigue and pain have taken their toll, and both my working paradigms and output have been affected. I can show myself some compassion, and look at what I CAN accomplish in a positive light, and build on it tomorrow…or I can have the undeniable thrill of metaphorically kicking my butt bloody.
I would love to hear Janet’s take on your question about where you (and all of us) focus our efforts. I too wonder if the area I’m concentrating on is the wise path or the comfortable one. Can it be both?
Both comfortable AND wise…that would be like finding out that chocolate is the most important of the five basic food groups! (Well, I think it is, anyway…)
Andrew, I met a PHd candidate who was doing research on premature ageing. Do you know what the most common cause is? Falling. Why? Because after a fall, an older person will become less and less mobile and reduce their network, until they are alone with no purpose left – then they die not because death caught up with them but because they stopped living. I want to challenge you now – whatever you do and for as long as you can do it, stay relevant, keep that wonderful humor and stay in touch through forums like this. Keep on batting and never take the fall that will kill your voice and your relevance. If the quest for a unified theory and black holes could keep Hawking going for so long, despite monstrous disadvantages, who knows how God will amplify your voice to a world in crisis. I just hope the heart-lung machines that we would be in that quest, will never fail to keep you in the ring. You inspire me continuously and I thank you for that.
Peter, thank you so very, very much. I’ll take that challenge, and I will keep carrying my end of this log. This community has, in word and deed, carried me through the dark places when I could not walk, could not see to crawl. I owe the Books and Such family more than I could ever repay – not that repayment would ever be asked, or even considered. These are just good people, wonderful people, living the heart of Christ’;s message.
* On falling…yes, I can see that, and have been “encouraged” to step back from physical and mental involvement to conserve my energy. Conserve it for what? To sit static in a bathrobe, watching daytime TV through a narcotic haze? When I fall outside – and I mean, literally – I crawl. If I can’t crawl, the dogs drag me back to the house, or at least to shade. Sure, I get a bit cut up, but it’s a small price to pay for the freedom it affords. I think that our society enjoins us to a certain preciousness, that makes pain “a bad thing”, except in fitness centers that have the idiot moto slogans like “no pain no gain”.
* The truth is that we are all expendable – as was God’s Son – in the fulfillment of our mission here. There is no fabric to preserve, no eventual archiving of the psyche. We are grinding wheels, destined to be matched against steel and give up our substance in a shower of incandescent sparks, a lovely rainbow of heat and transfiguration in our twilight
Yup, I agree … wonderful people. I see it in so many little ways even though I am still out there, hardly “in the family”. I specifically delight in the time each blogger in BAU takes to personally respond – to my other comments today, that is human touch and it is what sets our faith apart.
Funny thing about expendable: God confirmed that to Moses, so no doubt long before He told the old man to take a long walk up to Nebo, He knew He didn’t need him – but He chose Him anyway and was richly glorified through His great life.
You must realize the relational nature of our God and how He chooses to work through us, not in spite of us. Think about this too. Abraham sired Ishmael and a number of children after Sarah died, so infertility was not his problem. Yet, God would not bless any of His prowess without Sarah – she may be less remembered in scripture, but to God she was of equal value and, at that, of priceless value.
I often hold my wife’s face to mine and recount that no amount of wealth or esteem could ever hold the exquisite combination of friendship, strength, humor, memories, motherhood and wonder that she holds. I suspect God feels just the same about us – yes, maybe we are just dust even if we must crawl to be sure, but we are also vessels fit to adorn His regal palace, because of our history and uniqueness – both are more vital criteria for valuing priceless objects, than appearance or function.
Andrew, congratulations on your contest win! If you want my two cents worth, do what you can, however you can, and celebrate that, and keep doing it!
I’ve metaphorically beat my head against a wall (though not in writing situations), and it just left me feeling miserable and less able to take on the situation. I suspect “kicking your butt bloody” leaves you feeling the same way. Now I try to pray about it, and leave it with God (He’s a whole lot bigger than I am, and has ways of changing situations and people’s hearts I cannot even think
of). Then I pick up and go on doing what I can do for the moment.
I don’t know whether that will be a help to you or not. Regardless, you need to know your comments have been a help to me many times.
Peggy, thank you! I was chuffed. Can’t do a Snoopy Dance, but my heart was lifted.
* And yes, what you said does help…God is surely bigger, and sometimes one just has to leave some aspects in His hands, and – hard for me – resist the temptation to look over His shoulder and offer advice. He must be very patient, sometimes!
* That I was able to help you…Peggy, I’m honoured. Thank you for saying that. It means a lot to me.
Andrew, God doesn’t always take my advice either. Maybe He knows more than I do about how to run the universe. Ya think? 😉
He may know more about running the universe, but I’ll still challenge Him to a gluten-free-apple-pie-baking contest! Well, yeah, maybe not…
LOL!
Andrew, thank you for, once again, pouring yourself out for the benefit of our community. We can’t know the depth of sacrifice it takes for you to tap out your thoughts on the keys.
I agree with what you and Peter said: Keeping on with a sense of purpose keeps one alive–truly alive–not just waiting for death.
In terms of where to focus your energy, your blog is where your heart is so that makes sense for you to continue to write posts. But I would challenge you to find ways to use Twitter and Facebook to invite people to read your blog. It’s the most effective way to build readership. Study what others do and follow suit of those who make their invitations truly, well, invitational rather than ads.
Janet, thank you. It is tough, but being a part of this community – the community that you guys at Books and Such created, foster, nurture, and gently guide – has been by turns exalting, humbling, inspiring, and just flat-out fun.
* And I accept your challenge. I’d like to invite people, to give them some sense of fellowship and hope that I have found here. I won’t say that likes and retweets and reblogs and shares and, oh, yeah, sales aren’t important – they are. But to extend a hand of hope – and to feel that hand taken up, and held, that I might pull him or her with the strength that’s in me, to the Light – that’s why I write.
Andrew, I think you’ve articulated well what motivates you, which is why I suggest you give social media a try. It will create more readers for your wonderful blog.
Janet, thank you so very, very much. You’ve just made my week! I’ll give FB and Twitter – and Pinterest – a try, with the ‘invitational’ aspect you mentioned. That’s the key, I think.
Congratulations, Andrew!
Thanks! I’m still pinching myself.
Janet, I’m so thankful you brought this up.
I don’t want to be depleted but relatively unproductive at the end of the day. Can’t wait to come back and visit the conversation.
Jenni, that’s such a huge question and very hard to answer broadly rather than for you as an individual. One principle I use to decide where to devote my time is to “listen” by using both my heart and my ears. My heart tells me what I’m passionate about, what motivates me. My ears pick up what others are responding to. If I listen to only my heart, I’ll be ignoring my potential audience. If I listen only with my ears, I’ll flail around, rushing from one trend to another, trying to catch its tail before the trend dies but never paying attention to what my heart longs to accomplish.
Janet,
Thanks for the guidelines.
Thank you, Janet, for my Monday morning warm-up for back to work. My day job in hospital quality and patient safety frequently focuses on “working a problem,” and you speak to that process. We use techniques to combat Parkinson’s laws that involve data and diagrams and workflow. But, alas! Mr. Parkinson is often right.
For me personally, true problem solving often looks like bikeshedding. Instead of approaching a problem head-on, I do something routine that doesn’t require great concentration. With my left-over brain cells, I slowly work my way around the big problem. It is hard to describe the process, but the best answer pops up in the midst of decluttering my desk or deleting emails. A coworker told me, “I used to think you ignored big problems. Now I know that it just looks like you ignore them.”
Shirlee, you make a good point. Knotty problems sometimes are solved while we’re in a relaxed mode. Taking a shower, lying in bed, listening to music–or in your case, decluttering your desk and deleting emails–puts our brains in a place of “rest” that provides space for solutions or next steps toward solutions to just pop up.
Not rushing to make a decision can prove vital to finding the best solution.
Powerful article Janet.
Not long after I entered what would become a ten year trudge through a spiritual wilderness, I stumble on the notion that doing nothing can be the most constructive thing to do. God oft asked biblical souls to “stand still and see … ” or ” be still and know …”. A constructive pause for reflection and direction could save us from Parkinsonia, because it allows God to bring fresh perspectives and balanced priorities. Often we just keep doing what we do, because doing nothing invokes awkward silences and the guilt of not being busy enough, thus it seems better to do the wrong thing than nothing at all – no wonder God has to stop us and take us aside, because the things we use to fill up our pauses and spaces, also crowd out God and silence His voice. He is not silent, our clutter is just too loud, so if we do want to hear Him we must shut out the distractions. The resulting direction will spare a lot of wasted effort on bicycle sheds. A rattle on a car is easily solved by turning up the music, but maybe that rattle needs to be heard – so my response to you Jan, is have times of standing still, immune to the voice of guilt – and tune in.
Peter, amen to standing still. I appreciate your analogy of the car’s rattle and the “easy” solution.
I recall one time I was driving along when my car’s tire started making a rattle-like sound. I took my vehicle to a car repair shop right away. (I had visions of my tire falling off so I was motivated.) The mechanic said it was good I came in at the outset of the noise, that lots of people don’t pay attention to the rattle, but that this was the sort of problem that caused a lot of additional damage if it wasn’t attended to right away.
The same lesson applies to complex problems. They don’t just go away; they become more difficult to resolve if ignored.
But ignoring an issue and being still are two very different approaches.
I went through a few weeks of simply NOT wanting to go near my WIP. Nope. Didn’t want to see it, be near it, have anything to do with it-I was DONE.
I was worn out dealing with death, misery, slavery, sadness, and grammar.
But, I also had year end stuff going on. Prom, tuxedo rentals, corsage buying, home room parties…
So I either bikeshedded, or simply had to lay aside the work for a while and do quite a bit more Momming than usual.
This summer, I have 3 times the amount of antique re-finishing to do, and an MS to tighten in time for ACFW.
I can’t afford to avoid anything, because there IS NOT A MINUTE of back-up time in the calendar.
It’s all on me, and dropping the ball is not an option. My plan for the next 3 months is to pretend that I’m contracted and get used to the level of work involved.
A Japenese soldier kept his post and stayed fighting years after WW2 ended – the purpose of that war was to gain peace, not to keep fighting. Be careful that your busyness does not become an end unto itself that detracts from your higher purpose – and it will if you write out of duty instead of for God’s glory, or at least for a reason bigger than the obvious.
I’ve found that sometimes duty may be as far as we can see; it may be the limit of our vision. I got to live through an interesting physical metaphor last week; due to internal bleeding I was very lightheaded (hold the wisecracks!) and could only type is a very constrained position, eyes at the level of the keyboard, with an occasional glance up at the screen. If I raised my head, I swooned.
* It lent a different quality to the writing; whether it was good, bad, or incoherent, it had to have an immediacy, because there was no reviewing what had been written, nor casting ahead to ease the way for the next paragraph.
* An informative exercise; but when internal became external, and Barbara had to find a way to get blood out of the keyboard, she was not happy.
Thank you for your input, gentlemen. I appreciate the wise words.
But, dudes…chill.
There’s nothing wrong with a hefty does of busy, or the fulfilling of one’s duty. But I never said anything about writing or antiquing being a duty. All I said was “dropping the ball is not an option”. Did I mention the burden of the “ball”? No. I just said I couldn’t drop it.
My apologies for being snippy, but I think you both missed my point. The question was ” What will you do to avoid living out either law?”
My response was to work hard and not drop the ball.
Any anyway, Jennifer, isn’t being a writer and a mother ALWAYS about being busy? We mothers are used to this kind of flux–the creative giving way to the mundane giving way to the domestic giving way to the creative. This is what it means to be a writer and also to have children living under one’s roof. Sometimes I think men can’t quite understand this (perfectly common and natural) phenomenon. It’s called motherhood.
Jennifer, no worries. Not snippy.
* I think that what motivated my comment – and perhaps Peter’s, though of course I can’t speak for him – is that we know the motivation for your writing, the love you have for a mistreated people, and the sense of sorrow and righteous anger you have for the torments they faced. The living carry the dead in trust, and your commitment to that high calling shines through your blog, and your presence here. You’ve become a voice for those who can no longer speak for themselves, so that they will not only be remembered, but remembered with the love and respect that is due them, in their humanity and in their suffering. I can’t imagine that it is a passion which rests lightly on your soul. My reference to duty was given with the highest respect – I would be more like you, if I could.
Jennifer, I think you’re being hard on yourself to describe setting aside your writing to pay attention to fleeting moments with your child as bikeshedding. End-of-the-school-year busyness is a fact of life. Parents know to push aside all hefty goals during that time and to concentrate on the present, precious time to celebrate your student.
Now you have the summer to just plain work hard at writing. You’ve set some ambitious goals for yourself and you’ve had time away from the work to come back refreshed. Parkinson’s Laws don’t address the value of set apart time.
Wow, Janet, you’ve extended a bold and bracing challenge for a summer Monday morning. Got my attention. And here’s the kicker to remind me to avoid living out these laws–I have a retro Schwinn bike in the garage. Definitely won’t view it in the same way the next time I take it out for a ride, or when passing by it to get in the car. Thank you!
Okay, bad joke time…what does a Pit Bull say when eating a bicycle? (remember, I have a bunch of Pits…but they don’t eat bikes…hubcaps, yes).
* Okay, ready? Gershwin.
* Geddit?
Good one, Andrew. 🙂
That’s a groaner of a joke, Andrew. I groaned and chuckled.
🙂
I’ve seen both laws lived out. And yes, in my own life. It’s easy to focus on the easy, the things I understand. It takes more concentrated effort to tackle that which is hard, or hard to understand.
I’m not sure exactly what the answer is for not getting caught up in Parkinson’s Law of work. I’m trying to figure this out. With my boys home for summer, it’s been hard to find/make time to focus on revising my MS. The things that worked in past summers aren’t working this year.
For me, I’m more productive when I have a set schedule, and I stick to it. When I know my goals ahead of time, and when I talk through some of those tricky aspects of my story with a friend, that’s when I am most productive. I wish I could say I’m good at sticking to it, but I tend to bikeshed when I’m not sure what the next step is that I need to take, or write.That’s when talking it through with a friend helps. 🙂
Jeanne, when you have to adapt to new circumstances, such as your boys developing a different rhythm to the summer, you just have to keep trying new methods.
With getting stuck when you’re writing, you have a plan that works for you: talking about the problem with a friend.
Bikeshedding sets in when you stop searching for a solution.
Janet, thanks for the reminder of the importance of continuing to try new methods. The point is that I’m still seeking to make writing happen, not that one method might not work for me right now. I needed that. 🙂
Yup, I understood your point, Jeanne. Just encouraging you forward.
Jeanne, do you keep your schedule in your head, or is it written down? I’ve used a whiteboard in the past, and found that the “marker scrawl” for tasks, goals, and timelines were more immediate and effective than, say, a spreadsheet. (But I still keep most of it in my head, especially these days, as dogs like the taste of dry erase markers!)
Andrew, good point. Before summer hit, I was putting it in my phone calendar with an alert to keep me on track. I need to get back to doing that. Thanks for jogging my memory that way. 🙂
What a thought-provoking post, Janet. Thanks for getting me thinking.
As an aspiring author who has put a lot of time and effort into completing and polishing my first manuscript, I think I’ve moved into a phase of the process that could potentially be categorized as bikeshedding. I am spending a lot of time reading about publishing, getting published, rewriting, self branding, querying tips, author/agent blogs, etc. While I’d like to think these are invaluable and not simply a waste of my time, I can think of a few recent instances when I let this activity drag on and keep me from actually DOING the rewriting, self branding, query drafting, etc.
It can be difficult to notice when you tip toe over the other side of the fence from researching/learning to procrastinating or avoiding. Taking each step of this process of becoming published requires risk. Each step makes us more exposed to possible rejection or criticism. So we honorably announce we are preparing, poising ourselves for success by paying attention to what others are doing. As long as we maintain a balance between learning and DOING, I suppose we avoid bikeshedding.
I’ll certainly be paying more attention, just to make sure. 🙂
Teresa, congratulations on a good analysis of what can lead to bikeshedding for you. Social media is my bikeshedding mainstay. I should set a timer so I stop scrolling through Facebook and Twitter after a certain amount of time. I find it almost hypnotizing. I could rationalize my behavior by saying I’m keeping up with my clients and finding great articles to read online via Twitter links, but no, I’m bikeshedding.
Being honest with ourselves is the challenge.
Yes, I totally agree about social media. Like you, it’s easy to justify by means of networking, platform expansion, marketing, etc. Hard to see it as bikeshedding some days, but nonetheless it can suck you in!
While I agree that as writers we sometimes fritter away our time on unimportant things (Facebook, ahem), I cannot think it’s “bikeshedding” to work on our craft instead of hanging out on Twitter trying to think of ways to make people like us more. The thing is, there’s a lot we cannot actually control in the whole social media world (my posts aren’t getting enough likes!). There’s a lot of echoing and noise and street-hawking on Facebook and Twitter. I think it’s probably easier for writers to spend time thinking we’re building a brand when we’re actually procrastinating from the very thing on which we need to work–our writing! My gut tells me that any time we’re actually focusing on writing is time well-spent. I’m not saying that we don’t need a social media presence–only that it’s often the bikeshedding, and not the other way around.
Hannah, if I had read your comment before I responded to Teresa, I could have simply said: “Read Hannah’s comment and know I share the same bikeshedding habits with her.”
So to you, I’ll just say amen. Writing for writers is the heart of the matter.
My husband calls it following the path of least resistance. I fall into that habit far too often. Thank you for the wake-up call, Janet!
Heidi, your husband is so right. One road is wide, the other narrow.
I am so thankful for these blogs. I admit, I have never heard of Parkinson’s Law or Bike-shedding; I do understand the concept.
Cherrilynn, now you can put a name to certain bad choices people make all the time. 🙂