TWITTERHOLICS ATWONYMOUS: ARE YOU ADDICTED TO TWITTER?

IMG_7274Apparently Twitter is harder to resist than cigarettes and alcohol. As a non-smoking teetotaller, I wouldn’t know, but Jesus Twesus, am I using up my addiction allowance on it.

Six years ago I was dragged onto it by my first publisher, with my book cover’s sassy salsa dancer as a profile but a Twitter name that sounds like furniture polish. I dithered – until I realised that Twitter could feed me flamenco and ballet news, lighthouses, Sorolla paintings and so on. Then something else happened: I started to meet some wonderful tweeps – in fact, friendship with a Twitter amigo inspired my new novel.

Great, but far too often these days I’m off down that bloody Twitter hole having Adtwentures in Twonderland when I should be elsewhere. Am I addicted? Are you? Let’s take a test.

 

1.TWIVIALITY

How often do you tweet complete drivel? Anything to get your atwention fix.

Almost Daily          Score 2

Sometimes             Score 1

Never                      Score 0

Examples from @CherryRad:

‘Sandwich choices on plane: ham and cheese, bacon and cheese L  #Queasyjet’

‘Have decided that people with that iPhone whistling ring tone are complete [anchor emoji] kers’

‘Aaaaa-TCHOOO!’

 

2. INATWENTIVENESS

How often are you on Twitter when loved ones are with you in the room or needing you elsewhere?

Almost Daily            Score 4

Sometimes               Score 2

Never                        Score 0

Example from @CherryRad:

I’ve left a teenager waiting to be picked up at a freezing station while I finished a gripping twonversation – but I did then send him an exquisitely emojied tweet to tell him I was on my way.

 

3. TWIMEWASTING

How often does time on Twitter stop you finishing a chapter, going for a run etc.

Almost Daily            Score 4

Sometimes             Score 2

Never                     Score 0

Example from @CherryRad:

Too often there’s an extra hour in bed while I catch up with Twitter. This morning for example, instead of getting on with a blog post – so I changed topic and decided to shame myself on here.

 

ARE YOU A TWITTERHOLIC?

Score 0-3/10:          No. You have admirable control / dodgy internet access

Score 4-6/10:          Tweetering on the brink of addiction. Careful.

Score 7-10/10:        Twitterholic. Have a tword with yourself.

Where are you? I’m at 6. Phew.

Ah. But I just did a Google search and found a long list of signs of Twitterholicism – including: You still think adding “Tw” to words is clever. #Twuck.

LINKEDIN: ONE HOOK UP TOO MANY?

linkedinTapping on my mobile half asleep one night, I must have hooked up with LinkedIn. The next day, I couldn’t believe I’d given in to this smug monster, and quickly reached for a Morning After Unsubscribe. But the trouble is that you have to log on to bog off, SlinkIn to SlinkOut, kiss before leaving – and I couldn’t remember my bloody password.

So years passed, with daily Linkvitations in my Inbox reminding me not to wander onto the internet while under the influence of Ovaltine. I fervently hoped it would all somehow go away.

But something’s happened: I’ve now got a Proper Publishing Deal, and need to be on everything. Including LinkedIn, which, Google promises me, will increase my Search Engine Rankings. Since I don’t know my current ones – or what the hell these actually are – this will be difficult to prove.  It’s also supposed to increase my connections – but I can do that on Twitter, with more fun and less waffle. To be honest, at the moment I’m only really after a few more readers for my new blog – and the hopefully swift and simple pacification of scores of unanswered Linked friends.

So after a few hours LockedIn, what can I tell you? Well, it’s blue, which is nice. Easier to navigate than Goodreads – but then so is the Strait of Magellan. And… well, nothing really, all the same faces, and the people who I wish were on Twitter aren’t in here either. Hackles started to rise with the profile page, which, despite the encouragements (‘Cherry, your Summary is looking good!’) insists on boxing your life into its own peculiar linxpectations.  For example, apparently I don’t live in Eastbourne but in ‘Holywell, E. Sussex’ – which is great, but basically just a section of the beach. As for my living in two countries – even though surely this is relevant professionally – no way was this allowed. But the true horror is the ENDORSING. Visiting pages of people I know and hoping to encourage, I’m soon going: ‘WTF? When was she ever a Fiction Writer? He’s a Director there? My arse…’ Then I see that somebody has endorsed me for Short Stories – something she can’t possibly vouch for unless she’s had secret and ill-advised access to my ‘Cherry – Junior Sch.’ box file. Or maybe this is actually her suggestion, after trying one of my novels. Who knows what people are trying to say on here? Or what they do when they’re off it. There are some great posts (presumably also available elsewhere), but it mostly feels a bit pushy and shouty. I know, I know, I’ll give it a little longer – and please, tell me I’m wrong – but at the moment it feels like one hook up too many.