The Draft Folder: Smartest Tool You’ll Ever Use
It was early on in the listserv world. I was a member of several e-groups: online communities that blast e-mail to everyone who belongs. Unfortunately, I type pretty darn fast. And it’s only too easy to hit “send” immediately after closing some response. If you belong to these, you know the nickname of the owner or moderator is “listmom.” Not one to just be a joiner, I had started a few and was the listmom for several.
There are rules about being on an e-group. You don’t ‘flame’ people (demean them or yell at them.) You don’t WRITE ALL IN CAPS (also seen as yelling.) You refrain from emailing the entire group just to say, “Thanks.” And unless the group is set up for that, you don’t use it to sell your products to the other members of the group, though they may buy from you after meeting you online.
Here are my excuses for why I blew it that beautiful Spring day. I was tired. (Excuse.) I was pre-occupied. (Excuse… I’m always pre-occupied.) I thought the email was addressed to one person. (Really DUMB Excuse.)
We’d had a member on the list who’d been flaming everyone with a differing opinion. Many people had just stopped reading or writing to the group because of it. I’d had it, and wrote to the listmom (or so I thought) that this needed to be addressed before the group folded. I’ll admit – I wasn’t paying attention, and I even YELLED the words ‘COUNTER-INTUITIVE’ and ‘COUNTER-PRODUCTIVE’ to make my point.
Well, I was younger then and new to this whole concept where words live forever in cyberspace. (OK, Excuse.)
I checked my mail a few minutes later, and to my horror, my note was there for everyone on the group to see. I was speechless. Then I wasn’t. I used all the special words I knew. Several of them at the top of my lungs. My dogs ran and hid under the bed.
I shut down the computer. Put a message on my phone. Packed up some snacks and water and left. I drove for an hour and wound up in the Tonto National Forest. Sat down on a huge boulder and stared off into the Arizona desert, shaking my head. I was mortified, embarrassed, angry at myself, and feeling pretty darn foolish. What I had said was the truth, but blasting it to the world was uncalled for and unkind. I just don’t like to think I operate that way.
It did give me compassion for the many times I’ve seen others do that since. And it taught me the value of a stopgap. I created a Drafts Folder where every email I write is sent first. Instead of hitting “send,” I hit “send to drafts.” Even if I need to send it out NOW and someone is waiting for it, I send it to Drafts.
That way I can do a lot of emails at once; go take a break or get a glass of water; then revisit them before sending.
Not only have I saved myself from sending to the wrong person ever again, I also have found typos, confusing paragraphs, and really lousy grammar.
The way I see it, in the old days people had to wait for a letter or a fax. If they need it in writing and a phone call isn’t enough, ten more minutes probably won’t hurt. On the other hand, hitting that “send” key and putting your email in the wrong hands or sending the wrong message could haunt you for a long, long time.
Try it!
You’ll be glad you did.
Beth, older and wiser
~~~
Beth Terry, CSP
Professional Speaker and Author
©2007 Beth Terry Seminars, Inc.
How to live with sending an email to the wrong people? ;-O I did damage control when I got back from Tonto National Forest. I contacted key people with whom I had good relationships, explained the problem; called the listmom and requested he delete it immediately from archives; posted a cryptic apology to the group, then went silent for awhile on the group. The good news?
Because it had been deleted, all the people who got daily digests never saw it. My friends and many others who DID see it told me in private emails they were glad someone took a stand. And… like all things, it faded from everyone’s memory but mine! LOL
Lesson learned. Lesson definitely learned.
Beth
Amen, Amen, Amen. Now tell us how to live with it after we’ve done it! lol