Social Media and the Paranoid Middle-aged Spam-hating Introvert


Me, Alone in my Writer's Shack--Deleting SPam

Me, Alone in my Writer's Shack, Deleting Spam

So, I’m not really paranoid . . . yet. But I am a middle-aged, spam-hating introvert. I’m also a realist who understands the world has changed and that, as a 21st-century entrepreneur and author, I need to use social media tools to promote my endeavors.

In my fantasy life, the need for social media dissipates once I have achieved some pinnacle of success (a pinnacle that somehow keeps getting higher and higher). In this fantasy,

1. I have:
    A) a PR agency managing my business media, and
    B) a well-staffed publisher promoting my literary work.

2. I no longer blog or tweet or update or even email. I’ll give my tendonitis-inflamed wrist a much deserved rest.

3. I also have a personal assistant who anticipates my every need (although I must say that Paloma does a pretty good job of this now) and perfect voice recognition software that allows me to write books whilst sipping a Tuscan merlot . . . in Tuscany (said software will have perfected noise cancellation so my slurping is filtered).

4. Never again will I type a typo, or confuse a pronoun (the little tikes are a mess when they’re confused), or dangle a modifier because this voice recognition software has an intelligent linguistics download that learns all of my grammatical foibles and self-corrects with no editorial judgment. By thispoint most books will all be audio anyway, so there will be no need for tedious layout; the one textual translation required will be for a templatized e-book or non-formatted serialized Tweets for those few old timers who still prefer the “written” word.

The future—doesn’t it sound lovely?

Until I reach these ever-growing pinnacle where my above fantasy is fulfilled, I will continue to email, text, blog, update, Tweet, and whatever the latest and greatest communication medium for getting the word out. I will type typos, confuse pronouns (sorry guys), and dangle modifiers. My wrist will continue to throb.

As for paranoia, I can imaging a social media induced incident that wigs me out—an identity theft, or an unwanted suitor or maybe the misinterpretation of online remarks (like my friend who recently was forced by his mother’s commentary of his updates to de-friend her, or 2001 South by Southwest “best online diary” award nominee Nancy Sun who was profiled in the NY Times last week). If something like this stirs my introversion pot, how will I unravel my online presence? I hear that in some countries, citizens are warned not to use Twitter or FaceBook because kidnappers have tracked their victims through these media. But this is America, and I’m not paranoid . . . yet.


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