Cover Story

On a visit to Jamaica earlier this year, my parents and I went on a road trip, or, as we call them sometimes, a drive out. My dad loves to take us on those trips. They were a staple of our childhood, and are pretty much expected now when we visit Jamaica.

This road trip took us to Manchester. I had made a special request for roast yam and saltfish. I knew exactly where we were headed - Melrose Hill. Or, as it is often called, Yam Hill. Actually, I think Melrose Hill is the name of the original road (the old road) where the vendors used to sell. It has been a long time since, but the vendors relocated to their current location on that section of the Winston Jones Highway after the highway was cut.

And, you know, this post isn't even about Yam Hill. Lol! See, before we stopped there on our way from Clarendon, we went all the way up the road to Mandeville. We conducted our business and quickly headed back toward Clarendon.

It was just after we  passed the mud lake on Winston Jones Highway, that I saw a really beautiful sight. I thought it would make a really lovely picture. I immediately shoved my phone to the front of my dad's car - a gesture he's grown quite accustomed to - and snapped away from the back. He didn't question the gesture, he simply obliged. My mom, as usual, leaned a little to the left in her front passenger seat so I could get proper photos. (Just so you know, drive on the left in Jamaica, and the majority of vehicles are right hand drive.)

About five photos later, I figured I'd got what I wanted. At least two or three of them could be used. They didn't do the natural scenery justice - unphotographable beauty is a thing - but they would bring me pleasure on reviewing.

Fast forward a few weeks later. My publisher asked me to provide write-ups - along with book cover artwork - for the upcoming poetry book, Fourteen To Fortyish. I did. I submitted my best rendition of one of the images, complete with overlaying text and all. I knew we would have a bit of back n forth, but I still wanted to have a very good springboard.

Well, during those exchanges, I reached out to family to hear how the cover spoke to them. I even learned the term "dichromatic" from one of my sis, Lat, an artist. The final rendition shows a dramatic and fitting transition that captures the essence of the journey. I'm very pleased with the cover now.

I've shared a section of the cover on other SM platforms - Twitter and Instagam. Here, though, in my little space in cyberspace, I'm sharing the full cover. It's a good time to tell you, dear reader, that I am also working on making my website, cyopro.com, into a real website. :-) These blog posts will be moving over to my "home in cyberspace" - if you will. Or, even if you don't, actually. :-) Those baby steps? Yeeahh. #LeapAndAnnetteWillAppear. :-) I've learned so much in the past several days about what is required to make this happen. I bought a WordPress theme template, and switched hosting services. Gonna be bonding with the new site over the next little while. Please bear with me. It is a work in progress - a work in progress that has to be finished before my book gets published in September 2015. No pressure!

(((Drum Roll)))

Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

A Book of Any Length...

Not too long ago, I came across someone on Twitter whose bio said he'd written scores of books. Given how challenging it is to realize even that first book most of us have inside, it left me wondering just how lengthy, and of what quality, those books were. How is it some people make writing look so easy? You know what they say, right? Every writer soon learns that a book that's easy to read is hard to write. (Or something like that.)

As I make way for hundreds of writers in my Twitter space, I've begun to pick up on a few things. One of them is this: A very short how-to book that has been published solely for an e-reader platform is still considered a book. Got an eBook of 12 pages? It's still a book. And it's been published. So, the author can (and does) claim to be a published author. Write a few scores of those kinds and you can in fact claim to have written scores of books! 

Here's the thing: In years past, I probably would not have claimed very short (adult) books as books per se. I'd have probably called works of that length short stories or viewpoints or something, then compile them for a far lengthier work for which I could more worthily claim the title of author. But that way of thinking is what would've been left over from a programmed perception, if you will.

Fast forward. I've been thinking of a few short pieces. Enter eBook ideas. The following is part of one of these yet unfinished pieces. Perhaps I could embark on a series of eBooks in which I share something along these lines - and what can't be read between the lines. I've always thought of developing (or publishing "as is") some of these blog posts. I shall ponder this in my heart. 

There have been times when I held on for too long after I should have let go, second guessing my gut and wondering whether my impatience had yet again overridden longsuffering. I don't let go until the ugly is undeniable and irrefutable. A big step up from cutting them off at the first sign of betrayal of trust. But, a long way down from what is sensible. Then, I let go. I take myself away. The words go first. I follow on their heels. A moment to embrace my new normal is necessary. Given the signs, the cleaning and cleansing had begun - bit by bit. After letting go, I breathe; I hold myself; I assure myself I need this time, this moment, to just be still. And I declutter, starting in my mind. I am strong. I find comfort in knowing I am not worse for the wear. I sowed good seeds. And, I was sincere.

Claudia

www.cyopro.com

www.twitter.com/cyopro

Train Wrecks Are Hard to Watch

Ask me what I'm doing.

Glad you asked. Apart from writing this post, I'm watching highlights of the Brazil vs Germany World Cup match I watched in its entirety earlier this afternoon. Now, I don't know what has happened to me of late. I tune in during the day. (My work gets done. Led the Annual Report project this year and was told that it was the first time it was submitted up the ladder by the deadline. But I digress.) I watch the matches and get home and tune in to watch the Adidas Prime Time highlights on CBC. Who is this? And what has happened to her?...me?

I'm not a huge fan of any sport. Cricket, football, wrestling (yes, it's real - enough) and track and field were part of my childhood. These days, I don't find myself in "I gotta see this game!" mode, ordinarily. But, I do get into the spirit of things once I start following a game. It was like that with Canada and hockey during the winter Olympics. It's contagious, man!  This year, I decided - well, @MizDurie and I decided - we'd root for Argentina. The decision was made rather quickly and without fanfare. We thought we should carry a team and we went with Argentina. In making our announcement, we tweeted/RT'd asking folks to scoot over on the wagon. (Funny. People say "wagonist" as though it were a bad thing.)

The first couple of games they played had us wondering. I noticed a few people asking whether other teams' wagons had room! Lol! But, as I said to one person, I stick. Well, so far, so good. Argentina has made it to the semi finals and they play the Netherlands tomorrow.

But today. Today was not Brazil's best day. The rate of my tweets about the unfolding massacre could hardly keep up: In minutes 11, 23, 24, 26, 29, 69 and 79 Germany fired off those goals like they'd brought tanks onto the field and were executing with precision. It was one of the most devastating onslaughts I have ever witnessed in the sport. And, to think, at this level! In Brazil's own office! Those Germans were scoring in poetry and celebrating in prose.

Of course, Twitter was doing what Twitter does - being hilarious and, occasionally irreverent. There was simply shock and awe and disbelief all around. After the...match - and I use that term loosely - newspapers the world over screamed similar headlines, all underscoring the horror we had all just witnessed. Here's a report on FIFA's website for Brazil coach Scolari's response. The cameras picked up Brazil's supporters in tears. Correction. Supporters were bawling. Players, too. There is crying in football. It was hard to watch. Correction. It was really excruciating to watch. Finally, in the 90th minute, Brazil got one in. Summed up quite aptly by the commentator, "I've never seen a less celebrated goal in all my life. The Brazilian supporters don't know whether to laugh or to cry or to cheer or to ...groan." I imagined by then, for the Germans, the thrill of victory had waned a bit. Brazil's agony from the sheer terror of defeat? Not so much.

The catastrophe was like a train wreck - hard to watch but we couldn't look away.



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

"We Shape Our Tools And Then Our Tools Shape Us."

"We shape our tools and then our tools shape us."
- Marshall McLuhan


Funny thing, how humans are. I like watching how the tools people shape, in turn shape them. The how and how fast they...we...are reshaped by the trappings, incisions and sculptings of our own instruments and devices. It's organic. It's fascinating. Correction: I love watching it.

Sometimes the reshaping unfolds with such organic poetry in motion, drawing us in with stealth and charm, we don't see it coming and, too soon, we can't look away. It's not always poetic, however. And, I imagine, that'd depend on the kind of poetry you're into. It's not always in motion - I'm thinking rhythmic. But, it is always organic.

Our new tools shape us and compel us to take on new norms. And, especially when these tools are tools of communication, and space abounds to interact with other humans, the new norms and unwritten rules grow quickly.

The premise upon which these norms and rules are built is simple - simple and strong and timeless. They are borne of, and rely on, the distinctiveness and predictability of the human condition. We need to belong; to be a part of something or someone. We need to feel we matter. We need to know that what we do has value - and so on.

Enter, Social Media. Specifically, those spaces that give users opportunities to vote/like/fav others' posts/images and what not. I imagine that's, like, all of them, right? I'm here, and on Twitter. Two platforms. That's about as much input from folks in cyberspace I choose to allow in my sphere. I've popped over to Instagram to check out pics when a few tweeps share an IG link - and I care. I'm no longer on FB - too psychologically demanding. (We've talked about that, yes?) Even comment sections in online newspapers allow readers to rate the quality/value of their fellow readers' thoughts. At every turn, if you wish to express an opinion or share a thought, you may expect to be rated/judged/marked.

Some rely on this. Some - it would seem - live for the sort of adulation showered upon them in these open spaces. The struggle for validation is real. It is such a waste of the person one is, but, it does happen.

What fascinates me, though, is that the rules are made up and applied as we go along - and how. We start using the tool and we institute our own rules - unknown to anyone else - regarding how we're going to "do this thing." Soon, as interactions and fans/friends/followers multiply; as we note their own rules and interact accordingly, something begins to happen. A general consensus and understanding begins to take shape about how we interact and why we now interact the way we do. A quick example is the fav/star button on Twitter. In the beginning, it was used primarily for that. You hit the star if the tweet was a favorite. Over time, people began to fav tweets for many reasons. I now do it for three reasons: I want to read it later. (It's easier to find in your favs than to go hunting it down in your tweep's, or, worse, some stranger's timeline.) I want to acknowledge someone who's mentioned/tagged me, but I don't want to have a convo. I want to end a convo with a tweep but without words. So, again with the acknowledgement bit. Oh, four. I actually like the tweet. Heh heh.

Look, there's no Twitter commandment that says thou shalt not steal tweets. Yet, people copy others' tweets and tweet them as if they were their own all the time. And if someone repeatedly does that, persons will not like it and they are likely to unfollow or block that user. Why? For the same reason you'd not want to associate with a thief, or someone who plagiarizes, in real life. It may be an online space, but associations and interactions are real and moving - for the most part. The bots and spammers get no love whatsoever. We get in. We pick up on little cues and norms. We figure out what's what, perhaps with some guidance along the way. Pretty soon, we find our comfort zone in how we want to "do this thing." Who people are in real life is what they come to the online space with if they are genuine in their interactions. Just give 'em time. It'll all come out in the wash. That's why the norms are so easily established. And the new norms - unique to that particular online space - arise partly because "the medium is the message" (McLuhan) and also because...humans.

What's also interesting is how some folks, over time, move away from their, well, their "original persona" as followers and such, grow. After all, one is now popular and has influence. Some go the route of commenting in a more, 'ow you saay, responsible manner. Others, not so much. It is true that these spaces can and do entice us to assume a different persona from the one we started out with, especially when we're chasing popularity. Who's to say which are the true colors?

I just recalled a lil quote by President George "Dubya" Bush during an interview after he'd left the presidency: "If you chase popularity, you're chasing a moment. You're chasing a poof of air." Thought I'd share it. You're welcome. :-)


The Quiet Zone
Several months ago, GO Transit introduced the Quiet Zone on the top floor of every coach of all their trains during rush hour. Now, prior to this designated Quiet Zone, any car of most GO trains were near deathly quiet. Well, I understand there was one line that had folks talking loudly in the evenings. Looks like people complained. GO did a pilot project with that particular line. And the rest is what we have here.

Before the Quiet Zone, on the Lakeshore West in the mornings - and evenings, come to think of it - you could hear a pin drop. There was the occasional conversation but these were few and far between and in hushed tones. The majority of commuters were plugged in or reading or catching a snooze.

Then came the Quiet Zone. Signs went up. The Customer Service Ambassadors (CSA) included it in their welcome announcements. All was mostly well with the world. That is, until a newbie or two, oblivious to the signs and announcements, would start talking. I'd sit in amusement as I watched other passengers squirm or give the person the look. As a matter of fact, I've even seen folks who could no longer contain their angst triggered by someone having a quiet phone conversation, get up from their seat, or turn around in their seat, and direct the talker's attention to the sign. Or, say to the transgressor, "This is the Quiet Zone, you can't be talking on the phone." Yeah. That happened.

Fact is, the sign in the QZ says short telephone conversations are okay; use your ear piece to listen to music and make sure it's not loud enough for anyone else to hear. That sort of thing. But, you know, now we have become accustomed to the Zone being deathly quiet. The least bit of interruption of the silence, and folks will get up and leave the Zone. I kid you not. I have seen that happen, too.

GO Transit created the Quiet Zone tool for the comfort of passengers, when most of the passengers were already comfortable and accommodating of a bit of ambient noise. Now, passengers have been programmed to expect Bose headphones quiet and many are now easily irritated when they hear a pin drop.

Because...humans.



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Stretched Minds: A Twitter Example

"Man's mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions."
- Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

That thought came to mind a few days ago. I came across a story in a newspaper about a man from Texas, who'd set out to break the new record Ellen DeGeneres set for most retweets (RTs). Ellen's tweet, posted on March 2, 2014 (Oscar night) - and now sitting at 3,352,469 - has far surpassed the record set by Barack Obama's tweet of November 6, 2012, now sitting at 781,484. I'm not sure what the Obama RT count was when Ellen tweeted. For a while, it had stood at over 700,000. Hardly matters now. She wanted to break the record of most RTs - and she shattered it.

What struck me about the Texan's story is not that he was, in Internet speak, a "virtual nobody" who decided to pull this little stunt using a selfie of himself and his two dogs. (The fact is, there have been other tweeps who've set out to break the record, but their tweets have not gained as much traction.) No, it is that the Terry Shipman tweet has so far received 179,138 RTs - mine included. (Go get 'em, Terry! :-)) It is that so many people have "bothered" to give their support on this fun journey. Sure, there may be a few bots, but I'm pretty sure the majority of those RTs are from real folks.

But, what really struck me? The fact that, after Ellen's 3.35M RTs, a 180K RT count hardly seems like a big deal. Those numbers are usually enjoyed - for need of a ... nope, I don't think I need a better word - by celebrities with follower counts in the millions. After this, figures like that, even though they mightn't come along very often, will not carry that awe as they might have before. Pre-Obama tweet, they were jaw-dropping. Post-Obama tweet, meh! Post-Ellen tweet, yawn...

However, this 180K RT figure for someone who was not "Internet famous" (or any other kind of famous, it seems), is a big deal - at this point in Twitter time. So, on the one hand, the numbers aren't so shocking anymore. But, on the other hand, they kinda are, for a "regular guy".

Now - and this is very important - just in case this is a hoax by the likes of, say, late night show host, Jimmy Kimmel, the point would still maintain its validity about how the mind, once it gets stretched to accommodate a new reality, cannot shrink to its previous dimension as though it had never had that new experience. Once something new comes along, whatever similar follows in its wake does not have that shock/novel value. Celebrities/Entrepreneurs would agree - hence the constant re-invention of self/service. These days, people get bored very easily. They want the next "next best thing" the next minute.

Look around; listen. There are so many things that we accept as the norm these days, that were, at first, shocking to our sensibilities. Have we become jaded? In a sense? In more than one sense? Next time, I'll write about a more serious and common example of the way our minds have been stretched. That realization struck during a class on Ethics in Media years ago. Certainly, for me, that was an A-ha! moment.



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

"It's Like That"...and more.

February's still here, so the poetry continues. :-) I'd like to share two poems tonight. The first is by one of my sisters, Durie. She's on Twitter as @MizDurie. Her blog, The Water IS Troubled (TWIST) features moving and inspirational pieces; pieces you will simply enjoy reading.

It's Like That is a poem that draws you in with its sharp imagery you can all but touch. And, by the time you wrap your fingers around it to press it to your bosom, it ends, leaving you with nothing but sighs, and a certain knowing. Here now, with Durie's permission, is:

It's Like That 

It’s like that.

That grey area of wonderment,

Expectation, and worry.

When my fingers tremble to write because

Nothing can do justice to the precious moment that exists

In memory –

Of that sweet conversation turned even sweeter.

When disappointments and heartaches and insecurities

Fade

Into the nothingness of the abyss of a time

That is perpetually the past.

It’s like that.

Like the smell of storm clouds,

The splash of rain that commingles tears

And drives the fears of darkness and lightning away.

But the storm’s coming.

And with breathless anticipation every drop

Becomes the priceless diamond of perfection and purity.

Clarity.

It’s like that.

When a heart loses rhythm in submission

To the other

And become one

Beat.

When even the dream of a whisper of a breath

Fulfills every desire for freedom

To be enslaved by the silk cords of –

Crimson red cords of –

It’s like that.

If only the inexplicable could become

A thing, to touch, to taste

To feel.

To feel again, and again, and again…

And fall aimlessly through clouds

And rain, and pain,

And hit love hard,

And then smile.

It’s like that.

(c) 2009

The second poem is not really a poem, per se. It is a provocative admonition that makes you squirm and smile in sweet surrender - all at once. Well, that's how I felt it. It's a quote by C.S. Lewis. I came across it a few days before Valentine's Day and I couldn't help but share it on my Twitter timeline. In a sense, it does read like poetry. There's a quote for that, isn't there? Yes. "Always be a poet, even in prose." - Charles Baudelaire :-)  Here is, To Love At All, an oft-quoted excerpt from Lewis' book, The Four Loves:

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.

And here, dear reader, is a pleasant surprise. A cartoon illustration of To Love At All. The cartoonist, Gavin, did a marvellous job with this, didn't he?

Claudia

www.cyopro.com

www.twitter.com/cyopro

Freefall Writing: What Will This Unearth?

Undeniably, this was one way to go. I decided on doing freefall writing for January’s posts, to see what would be unearthed from my subconscious at the beginning of the year. How did I decide how to start this post? I closed my eyes and, when I opened them, the first letter on the keyboard I saw was the ‘U’. Oh. That palindrome was not planned. Just so you  know. Neither was that rhyme. It just happens... Let's move on.

Happy New Year!

They say one is not supposed to edit while doing this kind of writing. “Writing without a parachute”, they call it. I’ve cheated three times already. Shoot. Four. Sigh. Now, Five. I have to live with myself! And spelling errors and typos ought not to count. Speaking of counting, we’re almost 10 days into the New Year. Yes, there are those of us who are wont to keep track of this sort of thing; we just don’t (six!) do it noticeably. My question was gonna be, how’s it going for you so far?

For some, it’s too early to tell. For others – not the we-are-here-to-do-good-to-others-what-the-others-are-here-for-I-don’t-know, others – it’s already clear. Or so they think. You’ve probably heard it before, or seen it written – most likely as a meme on Twitter, because, it appears, almost everything is written on Twitter – that one should not misinterpret a bad day to mean a bad life. So, there’s that. Know what else there is? Yeah. One of my fav quotes: “It’s funny, isn’t it, how one moment can change a million after it.” – Raya (Movie: How She Move) 

That moment might be what we refer to as a God-awful moment or it might be a cherished moment or, it might even be a moment that we don’t notice was “a moment”, until we look back and go, “A-ha!” (Sigh. Seven was in there, somewhere. Sorry.) This freefall writing thing is not for the faint of heart. What was in my head in that alliteration just now was “not for the faint of fart…” I should grow up. Maybe next year. I’m not even into those kinds of jokes. I dunno where that one came from. It must’ve been from the fright of freefalling… That’s some scary stuff. See what I didn't do there? Yes. Stuff.

Whether freefalling in writing or doing that trust fall thing or falling in love, that’s some scary… stuff… right there. (Eleventeenth!) My inner editor? The man frowns on falling. I'm thinking duct tape. Though he might out me when I remove it, telling all and sundry how the skeletons in my closet have skeletons in their closets. Meh! Look at the brighter side. I'm not one of them. Pretty sure in all those cases it wasn't the fall; it was the sudden stop - as that saying goes.

So, yeah, falling/freefalling, is not for the faint of heart. But, let that not stop you! No fear! Need a shot in the arm? How I love Edna’s wake-up call to – okay, I’m gonna have to check IMDB for The Incredibles. One sec –

Helen: [sobbing] Now I'm losing him! What'll I do? What'll I do?

Edna: What are you talking about?

Helen: [stops crying] Huh?

Edna: [shouts] You are Elastigirl! My God...

[swatting Helen with a newspaper] 

Edna: Pull-yourself-together! "What will you do?" Is this a question? You will show him you remember that he is Mr. Incredible, and you will remind him who you are. Well, you know where he is. Go, confront the problem. Fight! Win!

[normal voice]

Edna: And call me when you get back, dahling. I enjoy our visits.

O Em Gee! That is sooo not freefalling! Lol! That is, let-me-jump-from-the-aircraft-with-a-parachute-while-being-seated-in-another-smaller-aircraft-while-watching-a-movie landing! Lol! Ok. For the next post on the 18^th (all being well), I’ll duct tape my inner editor’s mouth; try not to use nouns as verbs (like...that, smh) and really make an effort not to control the freefall.

Except for the typos.

I have to live with myself!

Claudia

www.cyopro.com

www.twitter.com/cyopro

A Twistraining Order and Other T'ings

I am a human woman with a Twitter account. I am not a bot. (Had to spell that out? Who would've thunk it?) I know what I do on Twitter and my purpose for using the tool - to help me "use it all up." (See blog descriptor.) And, as I always say, with over seven billion people on the planet, we're bound to bump into someone else at some point. Kinda translates to the millions on Twitter - bound to bump into someone and rub them the wrong way now and again. Tweeps aren't like the friends I've had since High School or those I'd met up to when I did the MA in Communication - without the 's'. Tweeps are folks I pay a visit to on Twitter and enjoy a quick chat with. And, oh! The wit of some. For others, it's how warm they come across.

So, Communications - with the 's'. I'm "into Communications" as I've heard it. I dig it. Been close to twenty years, now - still loving it and still learning. (Hence my beating myself up the other day about my previous post and how I had skirted an issue instead of speaking directly to it. A narrative shouldn't leave you with a sense of, "You'd have had to be there." And, I think a couple of the paragraphs came off like that. Sorry. Again.) I like to see how relationships take shape - people to people/business to people/government to people; how messages are sent and received and how the medium itself, being a part of the message, plays a role in the dynamics. I enjoy communications from the strategic to the tactical; from corporate to government - Jamaica, USA and Canada; from the head to the heart and offline and online. And, I've found there's always room for making communications better to achieve stated objectives. I love being a part of making it better. And, after my hit over the head other day, even more so now I maintain my resolve to "say what I mean; mean what I say - and write responsibly."

The Twistraining Order 

I have a small Twitter account so it's easy to spot when the number of followers changes. So, imagine my surprise - no, make that, shock - as I made my way into the weekend on Friday afternoon. I was actually on Twitter at the time and noticed when the number of followers and those I'm following both went down by one. If someone unfollows you, the follower number goes down. If they block you, then they are, also, blocking you from following (read: having anything to do with) them. The long and the short? It felt so much like a Restraining Order. But, as most things in Twitterverse take on the root, it felt like a Twistraining Order. I have absolutely no idea who did it. I've never signed up for any of those follow/unfollow reports - I don't care about that. What I do know is that the blocking felt like someone had joined me in a room full of people and, after hearing what I had to say a few times, got a Twistraining Order. And, they don't even know me (was what I was thinking). At that thought, I literally laughed out loud! Well, guess they'd seen and heard enough and made an informed decision. I did not see it coming, though. 'Cause, as I tweeted yesterday, I'm one of the nicest tweeps (see what I mean?) in that space. :-)

I am not under the illusion that everyone who follows will stay. I've lost many followers along the way. And I have unfollowed. It wasn't about the unfollow. It was about the go-away-and-stay-away-ness of the thing that I did not see coming.

I'd experienced a block before. But, I had seen that one coming. I had disagreed, rather diplomatically, with a position. The tweep had said stteo: That person is kind because he gives food to the poor in front of all those cameras. My reply was no, real kindness is when he gives when no one is looking. (Totally off the original topic. I'm not trying to pick a fight, I'm simply making a point.) So, when I was unfollowed. I wasn't too surprised. As I tried sending a tweet "@" that person sometime after, I realized that the tweet wouldn't take; it wasn't being posted. That was when, dear folks, I discovered what it was to be blocked.

Why did the one on Friday bother me? It must've been the human being and the communications in me - the two that I must've digested at lunch earlier in the day. Seriously, though. It did irk me - after the laughs. For, as I have mentioned in this blog before, the medium is an online space in which we interact. But we take our personalities and human tendencies and wants and needs and what-nots that we exhibit offline, to that online space. (It's not completely accurate to say "that we exhibit in real life", for the online interactions do take place as a part of real life.) And, I imagine that in offline interactions, if you're in a room full of people and someone you'd met a few minutes ago suddenly snubbed you, it'd irk a bit. There are those among us, I guess, that would shrug and go, "Riiight. Whatever." For others, that would come after subsequent out-of-the-blue snubs, I guess. For that initial one, though, default mode would be introspection. We'd stop for a second and go, "Wait...what? Did I do something to offend?" That sort of thing. (Saw the analogy about "room full of people" in this story after I'd written this bit.) Story offers up some musings about interactions on Twitter, too.

My initial reaction is what it is. And I know why it is so. I feel. And, I put feelings into words. It's what I do, and I'm good at it. (Monk) Yes, there are those feelings I just can't seem to put into words - mostly those borne out of an awesome wonder and delight - or forlornness. But, for others, there are words. And, I put a lot of effort into communicating clearly and respectfully. Sometimes, yes, I gotta draw the line and do what needs to be done to get a message across. I have blocked a couple of people over four years but, it was after certain exchanges and I'm sure they saw it coming.

OTHER TWITTER T'INGS

"We shape our tools and then our tools shape us"

As I mentioned yesterday, too, it does come back to Marshall McLuhan's "we shape our tools and then our tools shape us." I really like watching the dynamics on Twitter - even when it lends itself to making me question whether I've communicated in an untoward way. The folks behind Twitter and Facebook and the like must know a thing or two about the human psyche and behaviour and what structures and sub-structures enable or drive certain human behaviour and shape interactions. Fascinating, really.

As with any online tools these days, after we've started using them, we get what I could coin post-conceived ideas of how the tool "should" work. The tool has been conceived, prototype done and it's in full production mode. And, it's working well. Intuitively, though, we come to expect that it "should" be able to do this and that. For example, I suggested to @Twitter the other day to enable me to do a search of my own Timeline. There's the archive that can be downloaded, but, what I'm after is a quick search while on Twitter. Lazy much? Naah. We use and we ask for more and we talk to each other and try to bear in mind that we're just there trying to make the best of the tool.

How do you do Twitter?

This is not a concern about Twitter's health. How you do Twitter is totally up to you. I don't know that there's a standard way to use Twitter. You do it for you - unless you're doing it for, or representing, someone else or a brand. That's another story. One may be guided in what to and what not to expect. But, the same way everyone lives their lives offline (you sneaky English language), again, that will likely carry over. You learn from the mistakes of others  - no temper tantrum; try not to start a fight, for e.g. - and learn quickly from your own. We use the medium in our own way and, depending on what you wish to get out of it, there are tonnes of tweets, blogs, and books that provide guidance. Common sense and courtesy have been working for me in my Twitter communications. My reactions, and ways of interaction, may not be popular, but, they are mine. I own them, I like them and I am at peace with them. There are millions of Twitter users and I'm pretty sure some of them are of like mind, anyway.

The medium brings out the best and the worst in us; it puts on display the best and the worst of us. And, it can do this in one scroll of the thumb - Syria, cute puppy, earthquake, racism, soccer results...  It is an enabler and driver of things human. The id, ego and super ego are on display. Closet philosophers and thinkers - maybe not the deep ones - are there aplenty. I like to pause and listen/watch how others regard the medium -  what they're saying about Twitter, while on Twitter. For example, I follow @elevenpr who provides media training and occasionally takes a look at Twitter analytics - watching the movement on Twitter as users respond to a current issue. Another tweep I met, well, how I understand it, he sorta does what Twitter does to generate TTs (Trending Topics) and a whole lot more techie stuff. Nerd. Sweet nerd, though. ;-)

It's a place for human beings and for human doings. And many of those who are doing, inspire. Yes, I'm there for the wit (oh my goodness, there's this guy!!! @jrehling and @whirledrecord) and for the inspiration. Of course, my sis, @MizDurie, I have for that and for great company when I'd rather be alone - "Ok, I'll come with you." (It's a Monk thing.) The wit and inspiraton, I believe, help me in some way to use up all of me - to the last drop.

Subliminal and not-so-hidden messages

I tweeted the other day: "How do you "earn" a subtweet? Tweet something. You're welcome." For, as we read each others minds...thoughts...as we read each other's thoughts on Twitter, we are bound to come across something we don't agree with. That might trigger your own thought about a subject and, unwittingly or not, you express it. "Subtweet" does have a rather negative connotation, though. Think passive aggressive or confrontational without the direct confrontation. It is regarded as a subtweet when it is in response or reaction to what someone said, but without tagging (using the person's '@' handle). I did not understand what a subtweet was, until a fav tweep, @grammakaye from Green Bay, Wisconsin, used the term about two years ago. I asked her what she meant by it and she explained. I then offered that it was like a term we'd use in Jamaica, that you "throw wud" at somebody. She agreed. Subtweeting is not my thing. Done it fewer than five times since using Twitter - and one of them was directed at George Zimmerman: "There's free and then there's "free". #DefineFree." (In related news: Just this weekend, the Jamaica Observer published a letter I'd written about a damning subtext embedded in an MP's recent tweet.)

Then there are favs or stars. When someone 'stars' your tweets, over and over and over, it may be seen as "hitting on" you. Kinda like a Twitter crush, if you will. (Some may take it offline. Who knows?) I don't know that there was a manual on this but it's one of those understandings that has appropriated itself into general acceptance among Twitter users.) A similar thing goes for the RT (retweet). If you find someone repeatedly RTing your tweets, they're likely trying to get your attention. They're also sending a message to their own followers that...they like you? For, of course, your tweets then end up on their TL (Timeline). A lot. In that vein, you can understand how it may make you feel a tad awkward when someone goes all the way back in your TL and RTs and favs - from months ago. And they keep doing it. What does that sound like to you? It sounds like stalking to me. Ditto if they keep tagging you with mundane tweets. Be prepared to block and/or report to Twitter. Came across this guide to Twitter lingo. (For now?) Some of these "messages" you just get in your gut. Then, once in a while, you'll see someone tweet/write about it and you go, "Oh! So, I wasn't too far off, then." Yep. People are people wherever you go.

Companies are on Twitter, too

"Companies are people, too." Hm. Wrote that. Googled it -  and found this website. So, on Twitter, there's no "my people will call your people." There's a direct reaching out and engaging. You could say that companies on Twitter are re-sized to take on a smaller and more personable feel. My guess is that they are not afforded the luxury of blocking - unless, for a most excellent and defensible reason. (Yet to hear of that happening.) Whatever rant is directed at them, they just suck it up and carry out issues management as best they can for all looking on to see. A fire lit in the Twitterverse spreads faster than any wildfire on earth. That's why it's important for companies, once they wet their feet in social media (especially a real-time space such as Twitter), to engage. Make people come to know that the company will respond to them - and keep its word. It's less likely that someone will stay mad at a company that talks to them on Twitter; one that is seen to be doing its best to address a problem in short order. People looking on at the exchange are reasonable and will take sides accordingly.  As a company, let them take yours.

I came across a quote by C.S. Lewis last night and tweeted it. It made me smile, for, I found it after I'd stated my resolve last weekend  on Twitter and in my journal. It says: “Child, to say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you really mean; that's the whole art and joy of words.” 

Amen.

Claudia

www.cyopro.com

www.twitter.com/cyopro 

Ants Don't Use Twitter; People Use Twitter

Recently, I’ve begun to interact a bit more on Twitter. It used to be that I’d tweet about things that interest me – writing, news, media, communications and the inspirational story or quote here and there.  What’s left? You may wonder. Let’s just say, a lot. But, I would post-and-run, in a sense. Just say it and move on. After a long while, I met a few nice people – I am positive they’re not bots!

It turns out, though, that the past few months have had me chatting with more than a few folks. At first, I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. I have always been wary of the open conversations I might have with strangers. Turns out that once you both get a feel for each other and remain respectful of each other, it’s pretty okay. The sky doesn’t fall at all. Yes, I’ve found that mutual respect is key to a good online interaction. Dare I say, relationship.

Here’s the thing (Monk):  My online interactions – mainly Twitter – are embedded in respect and kindness. It is true, for me, anyway, that all I need to operate well within this space that is so public, I learned growing up. Yes, the result of good broughtupsy, as we’d say in Jamaica. Simply, good home training. And, that transcends to the online world quite easily. The same courtesies that you would demonstrate in your day to day offline, do apply online. For example, you wouldn’t heckle someone during their speech and point out a mispronounced word, right? Well, it takes a certain kind of person… Similarly, such a courtesy may be applied on Twitter – you wouldn’t reply to someone and point out a typo. That’s not gracious. You may, however, (again, depending on whom it is and how anal you are) send a gentle DM. It's like a private meeting. That's classy.

Similarly, if a few people are having a conversation, offline, you wouldn’t simply jump in - especially when one or more parties are not familiar/acquaintances. I think I’ve messed up on that one. But it was something trivial and humourous – is my story. But, I usually approach with an “If I may…” so they know I’m not barging in. Little things like that.

The Twitterverse can be a dangerous place. It can also be a very revealing place. Many users, I imagine, do not think about how their way of thinking and persona are betrayed by how they interact and how they say what they say. I’ve blogged about this particular idea before – how Twitter helps give place to a messianic complex, if you will. The whole idea of having followers, hanging on to your every word (as some may perceive it), having influence over many – especially those who are easily influenced – can easily lead one to think that one is "all that and a bag o’ chips.” It may lead to oversized egos, self-centredness and ideas of magnanimity.  

How do you know if this is happening? I do the kindness test. Note: This does not apply when someone is being a troll or being intentionally annoying or hurtful. The freedom to tag someone in a tweet or the ‘have device will tweet’ mentality, giving yourself ‘free’ reign to bash or badger someone, comes with consequences, like, oh, blocking? For example?

But, the kindness test is simple and easy. Know the quote:  real power is knowing that you can, but don’t? Or, it’s nice to be important, but more important to be nice? Or, how about, real kindness is doing something and expecting nothing in return?  When you know that someone has wronged you, in that open space, and it hurts, with thousands of eyes looking on, how do you respond? I saw an exchange earlier this week and came away feeling sad. An apology was given but the response was not gracious. No sincere and gracious apology says, “I accept but. ..” And,  not to mention that it takes gusto to apologise in the first place. I thought, that could have been done in a kinder way.

Depending on how and what you tweet – but, I find, mainly how you engage – people will come to follow you. Twitter is great for interaction. Millions of people on it from all over the world for different reasons. There are some horrible people in the world. There are some beautiful people in the world. And there are those in-between. Twitter has made large corporations engage like a mom-and-pop store and has made the celebrity like a friend next door. Even parody accounts, like Doritos Ontario, get more love sometimes than the real companies, because of how they engage! When you have a direct access to your favourite singer or athlete, it’s a beautiful thing – if you’re into that sort of thing. Little wonder, then, that when that direct link is broken, fans/followers will immediately detect a disconnect. And they don’t like it. Remember Ashton Kutcher and that time when he'd come out in support of that Penn State football coach in the sex abuse scandal? After he realised what the brouhaha was all about, he acknowledged his error and backed off for a while from tweeting.

Remember when…well, I remember when I was little, I'd occasionally watch, and be fascinated by, an army of ants carrying crumbs and just moving in a line, up and down, this way and that – until I stuck something in their path. Immediately, they'd scatter a bit, scurrying to find the nearest exit that would take them back to their familiar route. They had a direct line to what they wanted and something had come in their path. Now, this is reaching, I know, but, if ants used Twitter, when something like that happens, no doubt there'd be hashtags popping up all over the colony: #whatswiththewall or #wheresthecandy and the like. Anything to restore things to how they were. In time, they find their way around, often creating a new path. But, as if I need to make the point, ants don’t use Twitter; people use Twitter. And, when a direct link is broken, people use this new tool to tweet their questions and frustrations in search and hope for the restoration of that direct link. Doesn’t matter that there may be someone who’s trying to make it all better. All they know is they had a direct line, it is no longer there and they want it back. The voice of the brand was connecting directly and, in a moment, it has been replaced.The filter thing doesn't work! Can hardly blame them. They had got accustomed to that guy or gal tweeting/speaking directly to them. There is a way to deal with matters of this nature. Kutcher had shut down that time; Jamaica's VCB went quiet on her TL after news broke about adverse findings. Point is, people are not tone deaf or stupid. Their ears are tuned in to what is happening. They know their “stars” are working out their problems offline. They understand radio-silence on the Twitter feed. They know that tweeting during controversies only provide fodder for media houses. In the meantime, however, there is someone else working tirelessly on their behalf; a voice from their own corner of cyberspace or other space, being a direct source of information. Social Media marketing and PR is a work in progress.

 Another thing to note…to remember, really, is that the number of followers is no measure of one’s status or calibre. In some quarters I've seen a semblance of hierarchy  - like, those who make it to the "society pages" vs. those who don't, kind of thing. It is pathetic, really. Those who fawn over and those who, in the way they relate, are only left to have their followers bow at their feet. It is pathetic and it is ugly. And, just as offline, some human beings in Twitterverse often find themselves wanting to belong. Beliebers, I imagine, have got over JB reaching out to every single one of them, for example. The Twitterverse is a vast community and, as lives shift to the online space, the same longings persist.

People have lives – or, ought to have rich and meaningful lives – away from these online spaces. No matter how much I get along with tweeps, I know that my offline life is richer and more meaningful than what I do in cyberspace. I keep reminding myself of this as, one day, I may have more than my current 300+ followers. At no time should I take that as a thing. It means zilch. Zip. Nada. One of the thoughts that keep me grounded as I write and work at becoming a published author, is that, were I to become a bit more known, I must remember that on my death bed (if it happens there), my thought will not be: “I wish I had got a few more followers.” Or, “I wish I had done one more book reading. “ Yes, the thoughts of what my final thoughts may be as I depart this weary sod, help keep me grounded.

As someone tweeted today, we are all just learning. And, another pointed out, it changes so fast, this social media marketing thing, it's hard to say that anyone is really an expert at it. It really does seem that by the time you think you've made the two ends meet, somebody moves the ends. Much of it is about doing unto others as you'd have them do unto you. Basic communication principles and common sense will get you far. Much of the netiquette required, we already know.  And, when that gut feeling says, "Think twice," it's better than for it to later say, "I told you so."

Claudia

www.cyopro.com

www.twitter.com/cyopro

SoMe Pressure

Does it feel like your attention span is waning these days? Like, it's becoming increasingly difficult to keep up with news coverage of not just the local, anymore, but the global? And, every minute of the day is prime time? And, does it feel like, because people are now interacting with and listening to you, you have to post smarter/achieve more? If you've answered yes to these questions, know that you are not alone. That may or may not be comforting.

There is a constant, nay, continuous demand for our attention from one source or another. I need not go on about the plethora of these sources - online and offline. What I would like to focus on a bit is that demand from Social Media. (Of course, this only works if you do, in fact, use at least one SoMe tool.) And, the attention-grabbing is one thing. But, look at what eats up your attention. It may be something that is of little interest to you, but you still spend a little time to read it or listen to it - just because it's there. Those subjects that are of much interest to you? Those are the blood suckers. And, there's a very real pressure that comes with participating in these media on matters that are of high interest. Most people like to play cool and invincible. Yeeeaah. I gave that up - the little that I had of it - a long time ago. Now, I'm just the perfect human being - flawed, blessed and highly flavoured. Chocolat.

I realized recently, as I scrolled though my Twitter timeline, I was beginning to feel "a way." (That's a legit Jamaican description of feeling deeply offended/shunned/disregarded... Context matters to the definition.) I have been writing for a while and have made the distinction between a writer and a published writer. But, man. Reading about some of the achievements of those who've had their works published, started to make me feel like a small fish in a pond, catching a glimpse of the big ones in the sea of published writers. Sure, there is much to learn from writers on my TL. A lot more to (a) fuel my anxiety and impatience - what is taking me so long? And (b) wonder why some folks are writing what I'm already writing - albeit in secret. I then remembered a quotation attributed to Abraham Lincoln: “Hypocrite: The man who murdered his parents, and then pleaded for mercy on the grounds that he was an orphan.” No one had forced me to follow them. And, I could, after all, choose not to follow any more writers.

Or, I could do what I did when that feeling kicked in: Remember why I write.

That did it for me, really: #writeorsuffocate. I also write to "use it all up" in pleasing my Creator. I write a blog; novellas; short stories and poems. It will all come together. There is no need for me to look around at others. As Joyce Carol Oates put it: "Don’t be discouraged! Don’t cast sidelong glances and compare yourself to others among your peers! (Writing is not a race. No one really ‘wins.’ The satisfaction is in the effort, and rarely in the consequent rewards, if there are any.) And again, write your heart out." Of course, this assurance goes for whatever your area of interest. You do what you do when you do it - and how. Use it all up.

Still haven't got the attention thing down yet, though, while on, say, Twitter. All kinds of news from all over the world come at you in a single scroll. What stands out sometimes is the range of emotions I can go through in one move of my thumb. Somebody won something; a writing tip; someone was killed; a quotation about kindness; a pic of a cute dog... It takes a concious effort to stick to what you went there for. If you're busy doing something else and are just "popping in for a bit"? All the best with that. I grabbed the following from a Monk episode from IMDB. It's kinda long, but, it's the scene that came to mind when I thought of "range of emotions." One of my favourite scenes, by the way. :-)

MONK. Season 5 Episode 7 "Mr. Monk Gets a New Shrink" Writers: Andy Breckman and Hy Conrad

Dr. Kroger questions his abilities after a patient becomes the prime suspect in a murder. He decides to retire but a distressed Monk is convinced someone else is responsible.

Dr. Charlie Kroger: Adrian, I cannot continue to practice anymore after today. The police think that one of my patients killed Teresa Mueller. I should have seen it coming. I didn't; I missed it. This is all my fault. 
Adrian Monk: This isn't happening. This can't be happening. 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: Adrian, I promise you I'll get you another doctor. I'll call you next week. 
Adrian Monk: Okay! So it's not true! You're not retiring! I mean, you can't because... He can't retire... 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: [to Natalie] This is step one in the grieving process: denial. 
Adrian Monk: Damn you, Charles! Damn you to hell! I hate you. I hate you! You are dead to me. 
Natalie Teeger: That's not denial. 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: No, step two, that's anger. 
Adrian Monk: Okay. Okay, we're all adults here. We can work this out. I can hire you full time, all right? Put you on payroll. 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: This is step three: bargaining. It usually doesn't go around this quickly. 
Adrian Monk: Why me? Why is it always me? Everybody's always leaving me. 
Natalie Teeger: Depression? 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: Yeah. 
Adrian Monk: This can't go on. I mean, it's just too much. Okay, you're right. It's not the end of the world. I'll just have to find another doctor. I owe you so much. Thanks to you, I think I can get past this. Thanks, doc. 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: And finally, acceptance. 
Natalie Teeger: Thank God that's over. 
Adrian Monk: He can't retire! The man can't quit because he's not a quitter. 
Natalie Teeger: Wait, what's going on? 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: I don't know. It's like he's starting all over again, like he's in a loop. 
Adrian Monk: I hate you for this, Kroger! You are dead to me! You understand me? Dead! 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: I really should be heading home. 

Claudia 

www.cyopro.com

www.twitter.com/cyopro

People Do Not Like to Feel Like Things

Shortly after I had begun using Twitter as one of my SM tools, I happened to "discover" a Twitter thing all by myself. I had by then learned what hashtags were and what they were used for. But, imagine my delight when I used a hashtag and did a search for it and found several other hashtags just like mine! I do not remember now the specific one, but I do remember thinking then that it was out of the ordinary; that, if or when I did search for it, it would be the only one. Wrong. The hashtag might have been something like #idreaminchocolate. Wait. Lemme search for that... There you have it. Several of them. At the time, whatever the hashtag was, it was just a thought I'd had summing up my feeling about that thing. It was, as I've come to realize that hashtags are, a punctuation at the end of my sentence. I imagine that's what the folks at Twitter had in mind when they created this tool within a tool. Hashtags are like the labels you create and place on different folders in which you place certain files. So, hashtags are labels. The long and the short.

But, how do we know how to label our file-containing folders using the exact same label? We're talking about a love for the decadent, perhaps mixed with other matters as we unleash our wit, and then we end it with something as innocuous as #idreaminchocolate. I think we converge on sameness because we all crave a way to label things; to wrap things up in a package, name it and place it right here where we can come back to find it later if or when needed. As much as we - especially these days - crave to stand out; be individualistic; be unique, etc., there is that other crave - to label things, for the sake of our sanity.

We've experienced it ourselves, right? (Are you nodding in agreement before you know where I'm going with my point? :-) Many of us have endured the annoyance of being labelled in some way, by...wait for it...someone who does not even know us. It's one thing or, bad enough, when someone who does know you tries it. Another altogether when presumption takes over - and he/she gets the label wrong, to boot! Why do we get so offended (most times)? Not many people want to feel that some stranger has got them all figured out. (Not to be confused by your dearest love who gets you.) Not many people want to feel like their lives are so...so predictable and mundane that someone can sum them up, can them up, label them and, well, what's next? Stock them away for future reference. All because their "labellers" know where to find them as and when needed. Like labels on items of groceries? Normally, people do not like to feel like groceries. Or things. Normally, people do not like to feel like things.

See what happened there? A label of sorts. Normally, people do not like to feel like things. (I'll keep the "normally", being mindful that I cannot speak for the 7Billion+ people on the planet.) Labeling is a part of our day to day. It is a way for us to distinguish ourselves from something or to say that we are a part of something. Even in saying that we are not so and so, or not like so and so, is, in effect, a kind of labeling. The inference is that the converse is true - that we are so and so or we are like so and so.

To take it further, we know that folks may look at someone and, based on their own frames of reference, they file or place the who they are looking at, in a compartment in their minds alongside similar folks they have previously encountered. It's human. Adult human. It's how things or people fit nicely into such and such a place and helps us make sense of the world around us. Is it familiar? Is it not? Is that person like someone I like? Is he not?

What is most-called for, is to fight that "judging a book by its cover" thing and push back against the auto-file and take the time to see deeper.

I'm not going to act like this is easy to do. Depending on the circumstances (interviewing for a job comes to mind), first impressions are the ones we go by. Who would likely hire a candidate who chews and pops gum during an interview? For example. In other day to day scenarios, we meet upon a number of people we mentally note or label as stupid or weird or appear entitled or selfish or thoughtful or humourous, etc. We label, because labels, or the impressions or the mental notes, help us determine how to react or respond, mostly with some degree of self-preservation in mind. Not doing that, as hinted at before, is the second thought in the adult human. It screams guard down. Wide open. Vulnerable.

Is that such a bad thing? That's one of the ways in which we train ourselves to look closer; look deeper at those who might've been unfortunate enough to come crashing into us during our judgmental phase. I've been guilty of extended judgmental phases. One thing that has helped me deal with that is the reminder that everybody is fighting some demon or the other. Everybody has a story behind their gory. Just made that up. Heh heh.

I keep mentioning that our tendency to label and act/respond accordingly is adult human. That's because we have lived experiences and have got burnt or bit or shaken or stirred at some point or many points along the way. And, not only do we label, but, often, even after the label is no longer warranted, that's all we see.  (Reminds me of the saying, "If all you have is a hammer, everything will look like a nail.") For small children, however, not so. No frame of reference. However life comes at them, it comes. Anything goes. And, the truth comes out.



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.cyopro.com/twitter

"Invention is the mother of necessity"

I just saw the notice: Blogger is getting a new look in April.  I learnt today that, come March 30, Facebook's Timeline will be mandatory.  When did these tools we opted to use begin to mildly frustrate us as their purveyors push what they think is better?  We could opt out - or could we?  Well, we could, but, we have grown an extra limb or two or three.   Getting through our days without the Twitter limb or - for some - the Facebook limb, seems like a crazy, far-fetched idea.  When the creators of these limbs twist our arms to get us to move in their direction, quite frankly, it doesn't take much effort on their part.  It's pretty much get with it or get out of the way!

You may know of my love and appreciation for Marshall McLuhan's quotes:  "The medium is the message/massage"; "We shape our tools and then our tools shape us" and, a more recent fave, "Invention is the mother of necessity"!  So, there you have it, folks!  Let's just take that all in for a moment, shall we?  (Tangent:  I do like that part of the Bio that says: "He was learning in spite of his professors, but he would become a professor of English in spite of himself."  Not too keen on the "training of perception" idea, though.  I think it bothers me... or intrigues me...?  Not yet sure which. I would have to explore whether my appreciation for these quotes is incongruous with that idea... I dunno.  And now is not the time to ponder this.)   Moving on.

We have indeed shaped our tools and, in turn, have been shaped by them.  Our priorities have changed; our preferences for the way we interact have been re-defined.  There is a tool for every mood; a tool for every kind of message.  The medium that we use helps to shape the (kind of) message we wish to send.  Sometimes you'd rather not call, just text - because, well, you know.  The invention of gadgets and electronic tools galore have birthed the (desperate) need for accessories we had no clue we sooo needed before they came on stream.  We have a gazillion ways to talk and interact with each other, but more and more of which have little to do with the original - face to face.  Not in a Skype or other video chat way, either, but, in the way where we can reach out and touch each other; hug; hold.   Question: If we had an opportunity to get together with all our followers, LinkedIn contacts or Facebook friends, for example, would we?  Or, ok, we might have placed them in categories based on shared interests.  Even then, would we want to be in the presence of all these people of like interests?  I imagine the answer depends quite a bit on our personality but, whatever it is, we gotta give thought to the possibility that, at any given time, there are people with whom we would want to be in touch with physically and there are those we don't.  Also, that there is a time when it's convenient to connect and a time when it is not. And, there is a tool, a medium, for every preference. 

More than anything, however, all this repeatedly brings home to me the distinction between what really matters and what doesn't.  What.  People close to me matter to me.  A lot.  However, a few offline contacts/friends have come to matter, too.  And the joy (the what) that they bring to my life is invaluable - even if just for a season.  So, while we *cough* I *cough* bond with a new PlayBook (thanks for helping me choose @MizDurie), discover new ways to connect online and indulge in reading on the go, I've come to accept a few things:  (1) The fast pace and accoutrements of technology will be around for a while.  (2) The occasional mild frustration is bearable when compared with the thought of a severed limb.  (3) There is peace in creating at my own pace and (4) It's important that I remain grounded and book face time!


Updated: 2012-03-28 at 4:28PM with link to story on FB's Timeline.


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Beyond Extraordinary

As we take a look around us, tune in (even when we don't) to media of all shapes, sizes, colours, bytes and networks, we are bound to see someone who is trying to be extraordinary - and freakishly so.  What is just as certain, is that there will also be someone who is trying to go beyond extraordinary - and freakishly so.

Of course, a few persons come to  mind: Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta aka Lady Gaga; Adidja Palmer aka Vybz Kartel (or should that be "Vybz "Michael 'Cakesoap' Jackson" Kartel" - yes, a couple aliases layered inside a primary alias. Whatever! ) And, not too long out of the gate, with 2.2M+  followers behind him in under a week, Carlos Irwin Estevez aka Charlie Sheen aka Warlock (acclaimed "Winner!", drinker of "Tiger Blood" and spewer of other claims and utterances that are sure signs of an implosion happening in T minus ???)  Just hope somebody knocks him over the head and drags him into a space where he can really get the help he doesn't realize he needs; where the media can stop milking his rants for ratings.

It kinda reminds me of the line from The Incredibles:  "When everyone is special, no one is special."

So, why the push to be extraordinary?  Why the mad race to go beyond extraordinary?  What's the alternative?

The answer surely isn't "Be yourself", for those who fall in either category will be quick to tell you that that's exactly what they're doing.  They're being their own unique selves.  And others who are apparently, by comparison, bordering on "ambitionless"?  Is it that we lack the brand of fire to desire to stand out?  To stand out "that much"? To stand out "so"?

For, I imagine, that the crux of the matter might just lie therein.  The terror of becoming satisfied with being "just part of the crowd"; of being "a nobody".

Well, does the fact that "the world" - definition: YouTwitFace (as Conan puts it) - doesn't know about you, make you less than extraordinary? Keep you, and what you do, from being "beyond extraordinary"?

Says who?  Who's in charge of putting value on you, your vocation, talent, contribution...?

Yet, it's so easy to get deeply immersed in what is being fed to us through every orifice, it seems.  So easy to get and remain distracted for an inordinately long time by the self-acclaimed "value adders"; those with the "value stamp of approval"; those who, in the long run - in this long race - build the "value metre", measure us, find us wanting or not; lift us up or tear us down and so on and so forth.


Do those who strive to be extraordinary in these freakish, "celebritized" ways not soon become creatures - although, to be honest, I'm thinking more puppets - of the "value adders" et al on whose approval they feed?  Do they not constantly try to outdo their last doing, to keep energizing the masses who, in turn, keep them elevated (we bow at your feet, your extraordinariness).

Maybe it's a symbiotic relationship, after all -  i.e., if we could loosely apply the term "relationship".  

And, maybe, we're near the tipping point where they're all beyond extraordinary so none of them is beyond extraordinary.



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Wrote a novel in 25 days

Purposely omitted the exclamation sign in the title. For, by now, it's not about an announcement, per se. (OK.  One more peek at my Winner badge...)

It really is more like a quiet and sobering realization. Imagine taking up the challenge to write a novel of at least 50,000 words in 30 days, on the 5th day in! At the start, I was behind, but knew I wanted to do it anyway. I went at it with the appropriate number if butterflies in my stomach.

The organizers (NaNoWriMo)knew what they were talking about wrt the reliable muse of public humiliation. That helped. But, in the end, what did I learn? About writing? About my ability? About relationships?


ABOUT WRITING
Writing a novel is hard. It is like ... well, it's UNlike anything else I've ever done. (I hear it's like giving birth, but I don't have first hand experience of that yet.) First, you wonder, why did I set out to do this again? And, after you've convinced yourself that it makes sense to do it, (for whatever your reason), you find that it's harder than you imagined. You then pause, having begun, (and knowing that others are watching you try to accomplish the feat), to ask yourself whether you really like writing or whether you like the IDEA of writing or being a writer. (Gotta say, it's a lovely idea.)

Once you've convinced yourself that you are indeed a writer and you don't just like the idea of writing or being a writer, you proceed. And, at some point, it hits you, you are not alone in whatever state you may find yourself. Even the best of the best; the New York Times-bestselling authors; the Scotiabank Giller prize winners; former WriMos et al, have gone through similar gut-wrenching, daunting, black-hole-engulfing feelings. It's a myriad questions and anxieties and what not. And you still have to keep at it, even when you feel you're making 10 steps backward for every one page finished; disliking the very story you're writing...


ABOUT MY ABILITY
I was careful not to write "about self-discovery" - with good reason. This, however, deals with discovering - and not in a Chris Columbus kind of way - that I do in fact have that thing in me to complete a book. Well, it's not one thing, (although there is one thing that is essential without which I couldn't do it), but a number of things working in tandem. Having believed for a looong time that I am a writer - so many people have told me, they couldn't all be wrong; I began to embrace the evidence myself a while back, too - I knew I could achieve that feat in one fell swoop. So, it was a personal challenge; an extraordinary 'note-to-self'. And, in the end, it was done. I discovered the ability to do something I had never done before.

What does that mean? For one, I now feel way more confident in helping my dad write his book. That one has been a long time coming. Two, I am confident that I can write another novel and another. Having opened my eyes and mind to the lessons and tips along the way, I have even begun to think that perhaps a collection of short stories is (finally) in order. The moral of the story? They're all within reach. Just need to extend my hand - even if it means a bit o' tip toe effort - and grab 'em!

I recently changed my @cyopro Twitter profile text (Yes. Again.) to read something along the lines of 'only you will ever be you and let's use our talent to the last drop.' I think it's important - and possibly, life saving - to resolve and take the necessary steps not to die with it inside. So, even before all this when I was encouraging people to be the best they can; say what they have to; breathe... and all that, it was against the backdrop of leading by example. Not just talking the talk. To roll the sleeves up and do it can be so inspiring to others. Now, I smile when I realize that I've done that. And, sometimes, we just need to be inspired.


ABOUT RELATIONSHIPS
Ummm...these don't end just because you're writing. Relationships, like life, continue irrespective of whether you are writing, thinking about writing or thinking about what to write. The quality of them might change just a tad. By that I mean frequency of calls and get-together (and knowing that the people from the gym might call, again, 'cause long-time-no-see!) and such. But, the ones that really matter? The relationships with your mom, your dad, your siblings, your tightest friends (not the 500+ on fb - not knocking it, just sayin'), remain solid. 'Cause they know you. Well. They understand that your 'free' time is devoted to writing and schedules are made around the writing. They occasionally enquire on how it's going but not so often you feel annoyed, especially when you haven't met your word-count for the day. They are supportive and helpful and are your biggest cheerleaders and critics - sometimes embodied in the same person. (Right @MizDurie?)

In short. They get it. They get you. And there is glorious comfort in that.


SHOW UP; LISTEN UP; BRUSH UP
So, I've tweeted about my little challenge for December - to read one novel per week for the month. The idea is to tap into the beautiful works of my fav authors and see where and how mine falls short.  I'm on it. Now reading Robin Cook's "Vital Signs".


The idea of my novel stemmed from my idea for a play. So, there are three things I'm working on now, as I seek to use my God-given talent well - the novel, the play and the book of short stories. This doesn't mean other projects are excluded. Nope. Like I said, "to the last drop."

And, as has long been my main concern about that to which I put my hands: "Do I make Him proud?"


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com

My two reasons for joining the NaNoWriMo 2010 competition

Have you ever decided to do something, knowing that other people would be watching or somehow become aware of the outcome? You know you’d be on the hook? Think back. Did you do it, eventually? Why? Why not?

I don’t have stats to support the percentage of people who procrastinate on a daily basis; take up challenges in public and never finish; do finish…that sort of thing. I mean, where would I find those anyway? Yahoo it? (LO real L!)

Imagine that you’ve decided to enter a marathon – doesn’t matter which or where. Maybe, say, 99% of the people don’t know you; have never heard of you; don’t care. However, your inner circle of family members, friends, relatives, you know? The people who really matter? They know! Oh my gosh! They so know. They’ve witnessed you practising and, especially if it’s for a ‘cause – have hit up their own friends to sponsor you in your venture. So, even more people know.

Well, more often than not, those within your inner circle – and a few others – will be lined up or watching on TV or linked by BBM, Twitter, FB etc. to remain tuned in to how you are doing. Or, shortly after, to find out how you’ve done.

NO PRESSURE
The NaNoWriMo, which I learned about after the month of NaNoWriMo-madness had begun, is kinda like that. I’ve already told a few people in the inner circle, the 40-odd FB friends, and the 20-odd connections on Twitter. (Way too much pressure to embrace the concept of people following me. Reminds me of a saying by Alexandre Auguste Ledru-Rollin: “There go my people. I must find out where they are going so I can lead them!”) Anyway, that’s the lot. Oh! And now you, the reader of this post.

Now, having started, I have to continue.

THE REASONS (in no particular order)
1. I rock
I try to keep in mind a few tips that the organizers wrote in their confirmation email after I signed up: “You rock for even trying!” That doesn’t give me an out; a sugar-coated pat on the back to say, “There there! It’s okay if you don’t finish in time.” No, what it says to me is that they get it. They get that writing is sometimes as easy as breathing and for the other 99% of the time, it’s as tough as a diamond. (Yes. On purpose – ‘cause I imagine the oohs and aahs when it gets done.) Someone said they wouldn’t wish it on their worst enemy; another, that it’s 3% talent and 97% staying away from the Internet. You get it.

2. The discipline
This venture is actually helping me hone the discipline I need to write better. So many times I’ve had to make a note to self: “You’re a writer.” True. There have durations of quiet; silence; stillness on the writing front. Nothing for the public. My best attempt at publicly keeping the consistency and regularity has been this blog. And, that was after I convinced myself that while I wouldn’t be pressured into saying just anything simply because I blog, I must have a point of view on something!

I’ve written books of poetry, short stories; a book – all unpublished. I’ll get ‘em out. Somehow. The writing I hold most dear, however, is my journal/prayer journal (it metamorphosed) spanning the last 25 years or so. Still at it; still loving it.

November 5, 2010 was my start date for my novel. The thing began on November 1, 2010. No worries. Instead of the 1600+ words recommended to make the deadline, I need to be doing more than that now to catch up. As it is (joyfully) turning out, I’m writing an average of about 2200 words per day. At that rate, I should be back on track in about 12 – 14 days. Do the math. No, serious, do the math.


3. The competition
Especially that I’m competing against myself. That’s how I put it, anyway. I just need to finish this novel. According to the rules – “Unless, I’m wrong, which, you know, I’m not” (Moooooonk!) – to finish (writing a novel of at least 50,000 words) is to win.

I like the part where they talk about shutting up your “inner editor”. He can be so noisy –and I don’t know why mine is a ‘he’. They remind us that December is for editing; just write with “wild abandon!”

Now, did I say two reasons? Anyone who knows me well, knows I’m math-challenged. As I tweeted the other day, I no longer cringe when I make those (especially obvious) mistakes. Now, I could have just gone ahead and replaced the two with three, but, where’s the fun in that? How would I have got that beauty of an opportunity to refer to my tweet? (Heh heh.)

To NaNoWriMo! To Victory! Haroo!


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

The gawking, the stalking and the (non) talking: Confessions of a torn Facebook user

As promised, in this entry, I’ll share my take on Facebook and why I was only sorta on it. And this is as of right now. Hey, you never know! (Was just about to put a hashtag on that #YouNeverKnow – then I remembered where I was.) My feelings toward it might just change by next Tuesday. (Don’t ask!)

Well, there’s a good place to start. Feelings. I dare say, too many of mine were being engaged in the idea of making “Facebook friends” (quotation marks intentional) and connections. One of my girlfriends, whom I’ve known for more than 25 years, heard a smidgen of my angst the other day and summed it up quite nicely, “You are too weird!” All I could say was, “Yeeaaah.”

I joined Facebook sometime in early 2007, I think. My Facebook friends count now? About 46ish – in any case, it’s under 50. Essentially, three groups comprise the count – High School Alma Mater; the Alma Mater where I did my BA and the Alma Mater where I did my MA. The remaining connections are family, relatives and a few offline friends I’ve known since childhood.


THE GAWKING
I get that many people are interested in looking at pics of friends from Adam. The whole picture/thousand words thing does make sense. And it is fun to look and reminisce and all that. No substitute for going way back and enjoying it together. What I don’t get, though, is the gawking. People connect with others and simply comb through their pictures (yes, ‘cause they let ‘em!) clicking through album after album, without making a single comment. How do I know this? I found myself doing it. And I am 100% sure I’m not the only one who’s dunnit. And my doing that scared me that I could be that person – taking a kind of warped interest in the life of someone whom I hadn’t talked with in ages. Warped, because, after the gawking, I’d have no inclination, whatsoever, to exchange even two words! #EverGetThat? Not to mention my "Wait! Who's that living my life?" stares. Ouch! That musta hurt God's feelings.

I stopped gawking.


THE STALKING
Round about September of 2009, when I had about 50-something Facebook friends, I posted a kind note on my wall to inform that I was going to unfriend (or de-friend – whatever the term I used) a few people. I explained that I found we didn’t talk much and whenever I was on Facebook, I’d feel like I was stalking (!)

‘Cause I did feel that way, man!

I’d go on and check their walls and comments and what-not. I’d catch-up with their lives – as much as they cared to share – tracking their moves (?!) I mean, what was the point? Surely, there had to be more than that to Facebook. (Occasionally, one or two persons would say hi – they never gave up on me.) I convinced myself that I wasn’t using the space to its fullest potential; wasn’t making the best use of it at all. So, with plans to return after appointing an FAM (Facebook Account Manager – yeah), I took a hiatus. I recall one person saying that they (the un/de-friended) really weren’t going to like it (she wasn’t one of them). But, alas! The deed was done. I also opened my mind to the probability that some of those who’d remained would probably un/de-friend me. I was prepared.

Long after, I’d pop in – rarely – to post a vid I liked or an article I thought was worth sharing. That kinda thing.


THE NON-TALKING
I just wondered why folks would send invitations, and then not talk to me. Couldn’t see through that. Was an Facebook friend not a friend? Don’t friends talk to each other? Another aspect was just as puzzling. Friend request when we barely say hello offline? Even though we might cross paths every so often?

It took me a while to get it. Facebook friends are not necessarily friends, per se. No deep analysis required. They may be friends; associates; colleagues; someone you met once; third cousin twice removed; friend of a friend of a friend – you catch my drift. (I just recently caught that drift.)

Even though we had connected – after years and years of not knowing what each other had been up to; where each other’s beliefs now lie and so on – what we cared to share would, clearly, not tell the whole story. And the truth is that we really might not have much in common after all! Really might not have anything of such substance to glue a decent conversation together. To my mind, that explained a lot! That’s why we weren’t talking!

“Yes, Claudia,” you say. “That there is one of the mischiefs that Facebook tries to cure.” Get reacquainted and what not. I say fine, but, am I the only one who gets even a little bit queasy about reconnecting with long time friends/folks?

The big omission in all this? That thing that you’ve been waiting for me to admit? I wasn’t initiating m/any conversations myself. Of course, I’d go on about not talking and so on, but hardly ever said hello.


OUT OF HIATUS
Before coming out of hiatus, I got into Twitter more (@cyopro - see previous post for how that all went down.) I then permitted the app to run on Facebook and, Voila! I was instantly increasing posts and presence on Facebook! And, little by little (never “mis-underestimate” the power of baby steps), a few friends began to take note and the conversations began to grow more frequent. Then, a few old-new friends connected, and I accepted – without the level of queasiness I used to experience. (I tell you. Waaay too much thought.) As I lightened up a bit, for some areas, I started permitting “friends of friends” and, cautiously, in others, “everyone”! Mmhm! We’re cookin’ now!


ONLINE AND OFFLINE OPPOSITION
As with any online social network space, participation in Facebook highlights a kind of opposition, if you will, between online and offline realities. Many construct this virtual world and become convinced that it is “just like real life”. Nuh-uh! The personal pics and vids shared are, for the most part, pleasant. Indeed, they capture the moments of beauty. But, how many folks post pics and articles of ugly details of what’s happening to “others” in other countries or wherever and do/would do the same detailing the awful moments of their own lives? They may personally experience brutal and ugly moments, but those are not gonna make it to Facebook; not even in private albums. And even if some folks talk about it, sorta, they mightn’t touch the matter directly but kinda talk around it.

Offline, attention and popularity may wane; the 500 friends mightn’t show up at the barbecue (love this "Throw'd TV" clip). I see it as a space where folks enter, do stuff, then leave. I don’t know anyone who is “always on” Facebook, but I’ve heard that "they walk among us." And when the "book" is closed? When the site goes down at any time? I imagine there are shrieks of horror heard around the world. And, just imagine, those shriekers have to talk to other people now? Either that or scream at the computer until it gets back up. Not to worry. These addicts, well, they haven't lost their minds. They have them backed up on Facebook. Good thing FB allows you a zip file of your FB life - according to that site and a few others.


HEARING VOICES
As one of my sisters put it, when you get into Facebook, it’s like entering a huge space where everybody’s chatting and you’re hearing all these voices and some are talking with you and others are within earshot so you join in, if you feel like it, and you may be interrupted by someone who wants to chat when you’re trying to complete a move or a thought but, it’s organic and, like Hammy the speedy squirrel said in “Over the Hedge”: “It never ends!!!”

So, I’m in. Back. On. Into. On top of… (whatever) Facebook. I understand that there’s so much more to Facebook – groups, organizations’ pages etc. – a whole ‘nother’ world I have yet to explore. No, I don’t have a FAM – it’s just me. As I proceed, however, I’m ever careful. And, I’d ask you to exercise due care in building your online presence as well. To parody that Ontario Lottery and Gaming ad (and, I don’t play the lottery; I just think it’s a neat line): “Know your limit. Post within it.”


AND HOW DID THAT MAKE ME FEEL?
Last week, a former CFB Trenton Commander was sentenced to life with no possibility of parole for 25 years. I honestly don’t want to repeat the atrocities and perversions he committed. I’ve thought about posting a link…OK. Here’s one.

For a while, as this unfolded, I realized that, just given the graphic details that reporters provided, I could only read two accounts. I came to the realization that I did not want these things to be repeated to me over and over and over. Not once did I tune in to a TV news item or special coverage of what was unfolding. It was just too horrible. I read a part of a report after he had been sentenced. I made my last tweets on the subject – no more than two.

The crimes he had committed, the ways in which he had committed them (he pleaded guilty) and the reality that all this was embodied in one person who, on top of it all, held such a prestigious position, made me feel sick. And angry. And awful. So much so that, for a while, I could not get to that place where I could forgive him and have compassion on him. That’s not something that I could reconcile with my Christian beliefs and practice where forgiveness is everything! It eluded me. And, in a way, it still kinda does. But, I’m working on it. Honest.


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro