Is social media changing?
This post was inspired by Brian Keene who wrote this.
It prompted me to think about social media and how it works in my life as a writer.
Specifically, Facebook…
This post was inspired by Brian Keene who wrote this.
It prompted me to think about social media and how it works in my life as a writer.
Specifically, Facebook…
One of the down sides of being a writer with published books is marketing. For me, marketing is like diving into the ocean when a 6 metre white pointer has been seen not far off shore.
At least it is for me.
Those who are my Facebook friends will know that I have become seriously tired of bad news. Of bad news online, on the TV, on radio and in the newspapers.
So much so, I choose not to engage with anything negative that is reported now.
Or anything negative, period.
Yes, it might be ‘head in sand’ type stuff, but I don’t care. And this was underlined when a family member’s LinkedIn account was hacked last night and she received a plethora of images of the beheading. Such trauma inflicted on an innocent woman on the far side of the world – and presumably for no reason other than gratification for the perpetrator.
Today’s instalment is part of the new Twitter feature called #SampleSunday or #ss
Chapter Eight
Finnian
Finnian stared at the waters of Veniche as they flowed around him like undulating threads of silk. Guilt pulled him in one direction, anger and revenge in another, indifference in another still. What is a Færan but one who has only self-interest at the heart of his life. I am no different. The sailor’s death shouldn’t matter. What do I care for a young boy destined for life without a father. I managed.
Have a look at this! Such a wonderful intro. Mark, be my agent!!!!!!
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a guest on MWi gets a hard time of it before I finally let them have their say.
Today I was catching up with Twitter and came across the most gloriously humorous tweets from kaytsukel about things she’s learned by being a writer. I related to most and laughed a lot and thought that writers are all in a common place. So whilst I walked the dogs, I tried to think if there were any idiosyncratic points peculiar to me … and decided nope, there were none.
Over the last couple of weeks the most outrageously daring phenomenon has been occurring on Twitter. An Austenesque novel is being written. Many aficionados are contributing and it’s with great interest that I read each week’s outcomes. The idea came from UK author Lynn Shepherd and American IT specialist Adam Spunberg.
Twitter has been a voyage of discovery for me. More often than not I feel as if I’m in a wild, foaming sea and all that holds me up is a little life-jacket. Not one of those that have pull-cords to inflate and whistles to attract attention either. My life-jacket is essentially a kayaking life-jacket – a collar. Pretty simple and basic.
This is for all my Twitter and Spooks friends:
As I work this week, music seems to be striking chords with me. If I was seriously intent on sinking myself in my fantasy world, I suspect a cross between Celtic, Gregorian and melodic instrumental should be accompanying me.
Things that are amusing:
Joining Twitter. Fun in 140 characters, that is assuming one is prepared to leave one’s real persona behind. @Lucas_North’s,
@MalcolmWJ’s, @Dimitri_MI5’s and @SirHJPierce’s behaviour on Twitter. Making macaroons without learning how to use a piping bag first. Looking at self in mirror after cane blind has fallen and hit the bridge of the nose. Having funny shared thoughts with MG. The younger dog showing off by having a giant swim at the beach. Watching the parking-meter man trying to book me when I had beaten him to the meter by a sucked in half-breath. The lambs . . . cheeky and very cocky because they have made it!
Things that aren’t:
The loss of privacy at university. The sick humour of the internet and You-Tube. The loss of a life.
Looking at self in the mirror after the blind fell on my nose and seeing the blood. The loss of a ewe birthing triplets . . . mother and babies died. The northwest wind: who was it on Twitter who said ‘the wuthering wind is snapping at the corners of the house.’ Rudeness . . . of parking-meter men. Saint Kilda losing the Grand Final. SSAE in the mail. The chance that I will have to pull out of the Dogs’ Home until hand and ankle fully repair. I have only been back two weeks.
On this first week of October, we can be hopeful. Winter is over in this far-flung little outpost of the Southern hemisphere called Tasmania. The lambing has finished. My garden rewards me.
The boatshed is being framed up. The manuscript has attention from a major editorial agency O/S . . . free of charge. I shopped for clothes today and bought capri jeans, shorts and two polo-shirts in less than 10 minutes. Such things rarely happen. It’s time to think about the myriad family birthdays. To enjoy a major book launch on Thursday night. To wish my son and his partner safe-travelling as they leave for three weeks holiday in Samoa.
It’s heartwarming that sixty dogs were adopted from the Dog’s Home in the month of September. It has been a week of enjoying the generosity of overseas friends and of realising that even though an SSAE arrived in the mail, better things await. And that the world has joined together to condemn those students at Rutgers University.