My writing routine was unexpectedly interrupted today.

Usually, I get out of bed and go downstairs to my computer, put on some music (by casting Spotify to my TV from my phone), and write for anywhere from 10-45 minutes first thing in the morning. 

And this morning started out no different.

I was just getting into a flow of good writing when I heard it…

…

Nothing.

My music had stopped.

Spotify had disconnected for some reason and stopped playing.

I interrupted my flow-state of writing and reconnected Spotify to the TV.

The music started playing again, and I returned to my writing.

It took a moment to get back into it, but after about 10 seconds of warming up my mind I got back into the groove of where I was before the music stopped.

My fingers were gingerly tapping away on the keys when –

There it was again!

(What the heck!?)

…

Silence.

The music had once again disconnected!

It’s surprising how utterly jarring it was to simply have the music stop playing. 

It made me realize how much I use the sound and the rhythm of the music to keep my focus while writing.

After the second time it disconnected I decided to acquiesce. I did not have the will to battle technology so early in the morning. So I just turned the music off and went on writing in the forced silence.

Routines are quite important – especially when it comes to developing a habit that you want to consistently get better at – but you have to be flexible as well.

In order not to break my writing routine I had to alter my music-listening sub-routine.

But it got me to thinking, just how powerfully distracting the ABSENCE of sound can be, simply because it is a noticeable shift in the writing environment that I am used to.

It’s a lesson in standing out.

You don’t always have to “scream” to be heard.

Sometimes being a bastion of silence in an over-stimulated world can be just as (if not more) attention-getting than going to the next higher decibel.

You don’t have to be “weird” “zany” or “gimmicky” to stand out. 

Silence isn’t “weird” “zany” or “gimmicky”.

But it is different.

And contrast is key.

Contrast makes you stand out, it almost forces you to get noticed, even if you are not that “interesting” on your own.

How interesting is silence?

Not very.

But how noticeable is silence when you’re not expecting it?

Impossible to ignore.

And of course, that’s the first step in the process of persuasion – getting attention.

Hopefully this little tale of distracted writing can inspire you to explore your own attention-getting methods, and think about how you might not have to work so hard to achieve a jarring and undeniably noticeable presence in your own market.

Instead, use the power of contrast to do the heavy lifting for you.