Greg’s presentation was part of this month’s regional programming event for SCBWI-WWA. Greg is a proponent of using social media as a fun tool for connection – and finding ways to make the tools work for you while still protecting your time to, you know, DO YOUR WORK.
Whether you use your own website/blog, twitter, facebook, comments on other blogs, or something else, Greg reminded us that it is important to know why you are doing it. Example: if you started a facebook page because someone told you, “you HAVE to be on facebook,” that probably will not be enough of a reason to maintain it. And if you don’t maintain your visibility with regular updates, you drop off the radar.
People have rather short attention spans for the interwebs, I’ve noticed.
I’ve kept several blogs in recent years on different subjects, and a number of years ago I wrote a column for a (now defunct) website. But this year, I’ve taken seriously creating my own content. And this year, I’ve had the most fun doing it. So it’s likely I’ll stick with it.
I love it when people comment on either of my blogs (here, or the photo blog). It’s wonderful to know that something I created means something to another person. But I haven’t spent much time commenting on other blogs, compared to the number I read. That is going to change.
I apologise, interwebs. I’ve been remiss.
I promise to comment, to let you know by more than your statcounter that I was there, to share my story, to celebrate your good news – more often than ever before. I promise to comment back if you leave a comment on my site. I’m grateful for your visit, and I’d love to tell you that personally.
Today, I started with my sister’s blog. Catherine and Graham have moved to Sweden for a year while my sister does research at a university there.
I enjoy posting comments on their stories of settling into life in Sweden, but I’ve let a few posts go by without saying much. Catching up today, I was on a roll. I hit enter to post a comment, then realised I had forgotten to add one small note. I quickly typed my thought, hit enter again, and instead of seeing the new formatted comment with a time stamp (as expected), I was directed to a white screen with these words in a small box at the top of the page:
You are posting comments too fast.
I’d typed so quickly that I was within the same minute as the previous comment. WordPress doesn’t like that.
Nobody has ever accused me of doing things halfway. Even so, maybe it’s time for a cup of tea.
listening to: Duffy, Mercy