The Magic of Myspace
So, if I didn't know better, I'd think that I've suddenly become popular. In a matter of days--five days to be exact--I've become a friend to 64 people at last count. (And I've got 70--yes, seventy--so-called friend requests pending.) Such is the [virtual] world of Myspace. It's sort of like that house on Southfork Ranch that all the Ewings shared on Dallas. So much land (not unlike the world wide web) and yet they all shared the same house, with each individual (or couple) laying claim to one small room, each outfitted according to their respective tastes. Myspace is a 106,693,063-room house. Isn't the internet grand!
After never looking at Myspace only a couple months ago, I've spent maybe eight hours (and perhaps more) on it today alone: trolling for friends, spiffing up my space, trying to muddle through its design limitations, and lamenting what I've become. I mean, I'm not a teenager seeking friends for validation, nor am I single woman expanding her prospects for a suitable love interest. (Sistas, I've been there.) But in this literary climate of ever shrinking marketing and publicity budgets at major publishing houses including my own, my presence on Myspace feels very necessary to the success of Hunger.
So, HERE I AM. It's actually cool to "meet" so many people who seem to share at least some interests in common. But it's also deceptive. I mean, how many of us really have 64 friends? But things are different in cyberspace. (Things are also different in Hollywood, and on reality TV, but I digress.) So, I'm feeling at least momentarily popular, even though my husband has managed to amass 83 friends in about the same amount of time it took me to secure 64.
In a moment of bizarre reverie, I mentioned to my husband--who sat beside me on our living room couch, typing away on his Mac--that the phenomenon of acquiring friends on Myspace is not unlike the transmission of infectious diseases. You know, the whole "they told two friends, and they told two friends, and so on..." or, more insidiously, the way in which folks [belatedly] trace the sexual history of themselves and/or their partners to figure out how they got caught by an STD and realize that everyone has slept with everyone. But of course, Myspace is more pleasant than that. Or at least it should be. If used responsibly.
We'll see how long my zeal for acquiring friends lasts or when I'll finally "tip" and more folks will be sending me friend requests rather than the other way 'round. But for now, I'm digging it. And if it means that more folks will support my second novel, then I'll be more than pleased.
After never looking at Myspace only a couple months ago, I've spent maybe eight hours (and perhaps more) on it today alone: trolling for friends, spiffing up my space, trying to muddle through its design limitations, and lamenting what I've become. I mean, I'm not a teenager seeking friends for validation, nor am I single woman expanding her prospects for a suitable love interest. (Sistas, I've been there.) But in this literary climate of ever shrinking marketing and publicity budgets at major publishing houses including my own, my presence on Myspace feels very necessary to the success of Hunger.
So, HERE I AM. It's actually cool to "meet" so many people who seem to share at least some interests in common. But it's also deceptive. I mean, how many of us really have 64 friends? But things are different in cyberspace. (Things are also different in Hollywood, and on reality TV, but I digress.) So, I'm feeling at least momentarily popular, even though my husband has managed to amass 83 friends in about the same amount of time it took me to secure 64.
In a moment of bizarre reverie, I mentioned to my husband--who sat beside me on our living room couch, typing away on his Mac--that the phenomenon of acquiring friends on Myspace is not unlike the transmission of infectious diseases. You know, the whole "they told two friends, and they told two friends, and so on..." or, more insidiously, the way in which folks [belatedly] trace the sexual history of themselves and/or their partners to figure out how they got caught by an STD and realize that everyone has slept with everyone. But of course, Myspace is more pleasant than that. Or at least it should be. If used responsibly.
We'll see how long my zeal for acquiring friends lasts or when I'll finally "tip" and more folks will be sending me friend requests rather than the other way 'round. But for now, I'm digging it. And if it means that more folks will support my second novel, then I'll be more than pleased.
1 Comments:
At 12:42 PM, Alyss Dixson DC '94 said…
Hey now! I'm rounding the curve on the first draft of my novel so I keep checking on everybody else for inspiration. Love the idea of the accompanying soundtrack and hope the book does well for you. Your website is amazing and thank you for honoring your baby girl's life with the story for the rest of us to share and celebrate it with you.
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