Focus: The ADHD guide to productivity *that actually works* With James and Sam Brown
This week I'm talking with James and Sam Brown, co-authors of Focus: The ADHD guide to productivity that actually works - James is a science communicator with a PhD in Biomedical Science, and 20+ years in academia and Chair of the adult ADHD charity ADHDadultUK. Sam, also known as Mrs. AuDHD online, is an Executive Administrator with ADHD-informed PA expertise, an ADHD coach, Director and Secretary of JBHD Ltd, and a Trustee of ADHDadultUK. Together (with Alex Conner) they co-host The ADHD Adults podcast. As both of them were diagnosed as adults, they use their lived (but evidence-based) experience with late diagnosis to help others navigate their own ADHD and Autism.
In this episode we spend some time talking about their book and the very ADHD process in which it was written. But we also cover the gamut of boundaries (both with ourselves and others), the need to keep doing and how hard it can be to give ourselves credit or accept it from others. This is a deep episode where the themes of self-acceptance and how that swirls through burnout plays a big role. And of course we also discuss all the usual ADHD shenanigans and how some days the ADHD just wins.
If you'd life to follow along on the show notes page you can find that at HackingYourADHD.com/309
YouTube: https://tinyurl.com/y835cnrk
William Curb: It’s a pleasure to be talking with both of you. Can you tell me a little bit about this book you just wrote?
James Brown: It’s always awkward when there are two of us because I look at Sam, she looks at me, and we wonder who goes first. The book is called Focus: The ADHD Guide to Productivity and Getting Stuff Done. We wanted it to be Getting Shit Done, but you can't have everything. It’s slightly unique because while there are plenty of productivity books out there, this is specifically written for people with ADHD and AuDHD. Most productivity advice is written for people with good time management skills, solid executive function, and relatively stable emotions. We were given the opportunity to write it because I’d been doing some workshops on the topic. It feels like it took a million years to write, but it also feels like it was released a million years ago because I often forget it's even out there.
Sam Brown: We were just saying how stressful it was. At first, I kept thinking I had loads of time. Then I booked three separate weeks off to get it done. I did nothing for the first two weeks and then worked constantly for the last week. It was so stressful that I just couldn't wait to finish. As soon as it was done, it was forgotten. When people ask about the book now, I forget we’ve even done it. It’s just onto the next thing without taking a second to recognize the achievement.
William: Absolutely. It’s so easy for us to hit a goal and immediately ask, "Okay, what's next?" without acknowledging the hard work we put in.
Sam: Exactly. I’m autistic as well as ADHD, so I spend so much time over-preparing. Then it doesn't feel right, so I scrap it all. My brain won’t let me look at the documents I’ve already finished, so I have to start again. It’s a cycle that stops me from getting started. Once I start, I’m great, but getting there is hard. James, on the other hand, is like a robot—he just sits down and types away.
James: To be fair, Sam, you get the worst part of the deal. I’m very much a "first 80%" person. I vomit words onto a page—I can write 60,000 words in a couple of weeks—but it’s not all good. Finishing, editing, and checking for gaps is where my brain says, "Nope, can't do it." As soon as we got to the parts that needed changing, I had to step back. It reminds me of why we talk about having a "done list" as well as a "to-do list." We are so focused on the next task or the stress of the last one that we rarely look back at the end of the week and realize how much we actually achieved.
Sam: Because everything is last-minute for me, I don't have time to reflect. It’s always, "What’s the next thing? Oh my God, now I have to do this." I get "itchy" inside if there isn't a next thing. Even when I’m stressed, I think I can’t wait to relax, but as soon as it's over, my brain starts looking for multiples of the next thing.
William: I have a note on my phone where I keep track of projects. I’m not exactly happy with how many I’ve added recently. I want to do all of them, and my brain tells me that if I drop one, I'll never do it. But I’m going into summer; I’m going to be busy. I have to be willing to drop some of them.
Sam: It’s so important that you recognize that. I’m not great at it. It took long COVID, a long period off work, and mobility issues for me to realize I can’t do everything. James was constantly telling me, "You will never finish everything on that list." Accepting that gave me a bit of space to relax.
James: That’s a vital productivity tip: the things you say "no" to are just as important as the things you say "yes" to. So many of us are people-pleasers driven by novelty and interest. Setting boundaries—with others and ourselves—protects our ability to do things that align with our values. It’s hard to have boundaries with others, but I think it’s harder to have them with ourselves. It’s healthy to accept that something might be a passion project now, but it might not be sustainable in three months when you're stressed.
William: I read a story about a businessman telling an employee to put their secondary goals on a "not-to-do" list because any time spent on them took away from their top priorities.
James: The "not-to-do" list is a great approach. It gives you permission to stop trying to do everything. When I was a scientist, I jumped from cancer research to diabetes to aging because I’d get bored. That ability to say "I'm not doing those things" is rare for us, unless it's admin—that’s always on my "do not do" list.
Sam: I have a master task list for work and a master "side quest" list. I choose three things at a time because I love the number three. Periodically, I go through the master list and see tasks that aren't important anymore. Because I’m disciplined about only taking three at a time, I can eventually look at the old ones and just delete them. That feels really good.
William: I’ve used "not-to-do" lists for yearly planning. One year, I decided not to sign up for any new learning courses. I love doing them, and they seem productive, but they take up so much time. By the end of the year, I realized I had saved so much energy by just not starting them.
Sam: It’s so difficult though, because any new, shiny thing is an impulse that's hard to control.
James: It really is. I’ve done so many short online courses just because they were cheap. Now I have skills in conflict resolution that I’ll never use. The biggest change for me in the last year was going through burnout for the third time and realizing I have to do less. In the past, I had the charity, the podcast, my job, and coaching. It was like three full-time jobs. I loved it, but I was hurtling toward burnout. Burnout really teaches you about your actual capacity.
William: When you're in the thick of it, it feels like you can't drop anything. You feel like failing to do it all says something about who you are. But hitting that wall refocuses you. I was sick recently and had to tell my producer I couldn't get episodes up. He was fine with it. I realized I should take advantage of the option to do less more often.
Sam: We put ourselves under so much pressure. I love working, and James often has to stop me from working at night just so we can spend time together. When I was off work for seven months with long COVID, I realized things keep going without me. Other people pick up the slack. I’m not as essential as I thought I was. Accepting help is a big thing for me—it's very difficult unless I'm paying for it.
William: Even when I’m paying someone, I still think, "I could probably just do this myself."
James: I did a workshop on productivity recently and asked about asking for help. Adam Grant’s research mentions three types of workers: givers, takers, and matchers. ADHD people tend to be givers. To support a giver, you have to protect them from burnout and empower them to ask for help. When I asked the group how comfortable they were asking for help, the chat was a stream of "Hell no." It’s fueled by the fear of rejection or the idea that someone will think less of you for not knowing something, especially if you’re a few weeks into a project.
Sam: That’s the hardest part. I have communication issues sometimes and don't always understand what’s being asked. I’ll build it up in my head, googling and asking others instead of just asking the person directly. I feel like if I ask, I'm admitting I'm rubbish at my job. My brain tells me to just nod, agree, and try to sort it out later.
William: I've been in meetings where I finally forced myself to ask a question, and everyone else said, "Oh, thank God, I didn't get it either."
James: Masking isn't free; it costs energy. The "duck on the water" analogy—serene on top, paddling like mad underneath—is different for neurodivergent people. For us, it’s like being powered by a jet stream of anxiety. It looks serene only because we’re working late hours and pushing ourselves to the limit to look like we’re coping. Asking for help or body doubling feels like marking yourself as "different" or "lesser."
William: We judge ourselves against others using the wrong benchmarks.
James: Exactly. We judge ourselves on things we can't do—like timekeeping or responding to emails—rather than the things we do well. It’s like a casual runner judging themselves against Usain Bolt. We are so hung up on internalized stigma that we automatically use the wrong benchmark.
William: This echoes your writing styles. One person writes the words, the other finishes the book. It’s a strength-based approach.
James: All the "wow" moments in the book came from Sam. She’d suggest a chapter on burnout or a specific layout, and I’d realize I never would have thought of that because I’m stuck in an academic writing style. We don’t actually work well together on simple things—we’ll scream at each other while gardening because I’m a "half-arse" and she’s a perfectionist. But professionally, if you find someone whose skill set complements yours, it’s much easier.
Sam: I have very specific ways of doing things, but I struggle to see the value in what I do. I can see the value in everyone else’s work, but my brain refuses to take on praise. I have this fear that if I accept I’ve done a good job, I’ll stop trying.
William: The fear of complacency is real. People think, "If I settle for this, I'll never push myself again." But when you look at the past, that’s usually only true for things you didn’t want to do anyway.
James: There’s a term for this: praise dysphoria. Many of us struggle to let a compliment exist without challenging it. Assuming something is bad can be a protective mechanism; if you already think it’s a failure, no one else's criticism can hurt you more than your own.
Sam: I used to practically accuse people of lying when they complimented me. James had to tell me it was actually rude to do that. I’m much more comfortable with negative feedback because I know how to react to it. Positive feedback just gets disregarded.
William: I’ve learned to just say "thank you" and move the conversation along as fast as possible. Often, we get praised for things that come easily to us, so we don't think they're praiseworthy.
Sam: Exactly. It has no value because it didn't cause me to stay awake at night worrying. The things I put the most effort into are the ones I feel are never good enough.
James: For me, part of it is being anhedonic—I don’t really feel joy or excitement. When Alex and I released our first book, he was so proud, and I just felt... nothing. I’d just written some words. If we could find a way to be genuinely satisfied with our work without it becoming "psychological masturbation," our mental health would be so much better.
William: I’m working on my 300th episode. It feels like a lot, but it also feels like nothing—just 300 individual steps.
James: We’ve done 201 episodes, and I thought 200 was impressive. But 300? I take my hat off to you.
Sam: Anything any of us can do for a sustained amount of time is impressive.
William: We often think we’re special in the worst way. "Oh, I'm special because this achievement doesn't count for me." It’s not a kind way to treat ourselves. Did you have expectations of hitting 200 episodes when you started?
James: We just did it for fun. Back then, there were only a few ADHD podcasts in the UK. We just swore and attacked each other because we’re good mates, and people resonated with that. Now, the field is full of celebrity podcasts with massive budgets. If I were starting today, I probably wouldn’t.
William: I compare myself to those big shows too, but then I remember they have a team and a pre-existing platform. There are parts of that world I don't even want to deal with.
James: It's better to be authentic. We won't get invited on those big podcasts because we poke fun at them and we value being evidence-based over clickbaity content. Lived experience is important, but it’s not universal. We wanted the book to be inclusive while sticking to the research.
William: Right. If you’ve met one person with ADHD, you’ve met one person with ADHD. Some people solve time blindness with anxiety; others just accept they'll be late.
James: My kryptonite is emails. I have to gamify them. When I was an academic, I’d answer 200 a day out of fear of being seen as lazy. That's not healthy. Now, I accept that I struggle with it. ADHD is consistent inconsistency. You have to find tools that work for now, knowing you’ll likely need a new system in a few months when the reward wears off.
Sam: That’s the exhausting part—nothing works forever.
William: We search for the "perfect" system that will last forever, but it won't.
James: I’ll tell Sam, "Everything is in Google Tasks now!" Three months later, it’s Todoist. A few months after that, it’s Google Keep. I end up with seven different systems, all out of date.
William: My podcast is organized on Notion. I don’t even like Notion that much anymore, but there’s too much data to move it now. I’m stuck.
James: Anyone who can use Notion is a wizard. It makes me want to vomit into my eye sockets. But that’s the ADHD experience: one tool works for one person and is a total nightmare for another.
Sam: I often do things the long-winded, laborious way. I know automation would be faster, but my brain needs that "processing time" while I go through the motions. I actually forgot my entire work system after being off for a while. I thought I had dementia until I remembered I just needed my old checklists.
James: The reduced ability to maintain routines is a core ADHD issue. I know the wheels are falling off when I stop tracking things like taking my meds or drinking a protein shake. Building a routine is one thing; remembering it exists and having the right cues to trigger it is another.
William: We try to build "inevitability" into our lives—like hanging a bag on the doorknob so you have to touch it to leave. But applying that to complex systems is much harder.
Sam: We used to run a charity feeding people on the streets. Every week, we’d spend all day making sandwiches and then just leave them behind. We decided to put our car keys on top of the sandwich bags so we couldn’t forget them. We still did. We just picked up the keys and left the sandwiches.
William: It’s amazing how the brain can just delete information. I’ve left for appointments, gotten halfway there, and realized I didn't bring the one thing I was going there to deliver.
Sam: I recently told a researcher I definitely had my eye drops in my bag. I looked and couldn't see them. I went all the way back to my office, retraced my steps, and then realized they were in the bag the whole time. I felt so stupid, but my brain just wouldn't see them.
William: I did that with my passport. I tore the office apart, only to find it in the drawer I had already checked. It was just slightly covered by something else.
James: Speaking of passports, we were going on holiday, and I was convinced mine had expired. You can get a fast-track renewal if you drive to a specific center and pay £250. I drove to Liverpool, paid the money, and walked into the office only for them to tell me, "You renewed this last year." They kept the money for "admin costs."
Sam: That was my fault because I looked at an old copy of his passport in my files and didn't check the physical one. We both "ADHD-ed" it.
William: Just this week, I tried to refill my meds, and they told me it was too soon. I was confused because I was out. Then I looked on the counter and found a brand-new bottle. I had already picked it up and completely forgotten.
James: There has to be a better system. I have the Monday-to-Sunday pill box, but I’ll impulsively grab pills from Wednesday on a Monday. Then an hour later, I can’t tell if I’ve taken them because Monday’s slot is full and Wednesday’s is empty.
William: I use timer caps that show how long it’s been since the bottle was last opened. That’s been a lifesaver.
Sam: I have those, but the batteries ran out. I have the replacements, but changing them is too boring, so I just haven't done it.
William: We’re coming up on time. Do you have any final thoughts for the audience?
James: Your experience is valid. Many people are at the start of their journey and facing stigma or challenges at work. You are not alone. ADHD can be isolating, but there are millions of us. Seek out a community that "gets" you.
Sam: The things you’re ashamed of and try to hide—other people are struggling with those exact same things. Opening up helps you realize you aren't alone, and it helps others realize it too. It’s a powerful thing.
This Episode's Top Tips
The things we say no to are often just as important as the things we say yes to. With ADHD we often run on a default mode of saying yes to every interesting thing that we come across, but we simply don't have the time or capacity to say yes to everything. By choosing what we're saying no to, it gives us space to really embrace the "yeses" in our lives.
While setting and maintaining boundaries with others can be difficult, it is often even harder to set them with ourselves. Playing directly with what we say no to, James says: "it's sometimes healthier to accept it may be a passion project now, but ask yourself, is it going to be in three months' time when you're stressed with everything else?" It's okay to let things go and change your mind about what's important.
Try Sam's three-at-a-time rule. With two master lists (work and "side quests"), pull three tasks and focus on just doing those three until they're done. Once complete, move them to a done list, and you can move on to the next three. But also remember to periodically go through and delete what's no longer important in your lists. We all build up to-do's that no longer need to be and can be let go of.