Why Social Media is Good For the Mind

“I need you to read this and tell me what happened,” says my sister, thrusting a copy of Haruki Murakami’s A Wild Sheep Chase into my hands, “I don’t think it made sense. Although it might actually be the middle of three, which would explain it…”

Once Upon a Time I would have balked at this request.

“You want me to deliberately read a series Out Of Order?” I would have shrieked in a dramatic mixture of caps lock and italics, “What kind of MONSTER do you think I AM???!!!11”

On this occasion though, I shrug and acquiesce – not because my instinct did not tell me to read Hear the Wind Sing and Pinball, 1973 first (turns out the book is the last of the set), but because I have become accustomed to reading things backwards.

“But why?” you probably aren’t bothering to shout.

The answer, dear reader, is social networking.

For those who don’t know (people based in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland where the internet is regarded as black magic; and the population of China*), sites like the Facebook and the Twitter work in real time. This means that when you log in you get the most recent messages people have posted and have to work backwards to find out what everyone’s complaining about / laughing at / watching on TV. It’s sort of like being the star of your very own slightly banal detective story.

Almost everyone has had a go at social networking even if they can’t see the point of it (and indeed I realized - as I was contemplating changing to the new Facebook timeline yesterday - that I've been using that site for about seven years) - so it stands to reason this way of taking in information would begin to filter through to other walks of life like some kind of insidious metaphor. It seems only logical that as more people sign up, human perception of time and compulsion to do things in a particular order will break down ever further.

“Whaddya mean, 1, 2, 3?” we will shout at the generation of children born to us in a future where Twitter is implanted into our retinas like a nightmare Charlie Brooker had once, “this isn’t the Stone Age! What’s the matter with 3, 2, RT 2, OMG RT 2, 1?”

In this future, book series are read backwards as standard, government advice suggests Lost only be viewed from the final episode of series eighty seven, and government legislation ensures Monopoly starts with everyone bankrupt and in jail.

It may sound strange and frightening now, but by and large I think all of this is A Good Thing. Reading backwards is great exercise for the brain and helps us empathise with our dyslexic cousins, who read everything out of order all the time and are more creative human beings as a result.

Furthermore, it turns out reading Murakami the wrong way round only makes him more interesting and this is how I shall approach IQ84. To find out how that goes, join me on Twitter… (@periwinklewine)

*this is an hilarious joke at the expense of Chinese governmental restrictions which include a Facebook ban, but actually they have their own versions of these sites so it probably doesn’t apply there at all.

Glad Game - Forging a Career in a Dying Industry (during a recession)

Every so often, I read an article by someone who ought to know better, and I die a little bit inside at the thought that they were paid to write it purely because they have all the right contacts and not because they have the intelligence, work ethic or talent that means they deserve a platform for their work.

Jobs in journalism seem to be based entirely on who you know, and apparently I have yet to meet the ‘right’ people. Sorry, people I know. You guys do not cut the career mustard. Whatever that is.

I am hindered in this networking malarkey by two key points. 1) Neither of my parents are eminent satirists, social/political commentators or media darlings. 2) I haven’t the funds (or the certainty it would do any good) to complete the journalism MA that might secure me at least a few contacts through mandatory work placements.

This means I really do have to do it all myself, which is difficult, difficult, lemon difficult. Not impossible, I grant you, but not straightforward in any real way. The need to be networking my arse off to find someone to read and pay for my writing conflicts with the need to pay rent, which in turn conflicts with the time actually spent writing.

The upshot is that I spend the vast majority of my time commuting to and completing jobs that are largely unrelated to what I want to do, but I can’t jack it in and go full time freelance because journalism pays me only sporadically. I get paid work sporadically not because I can’t write, but because I don’t have enough contacts who know me well enough to understand that I will deliver on their commissions.

It’s a circular arrangement that I am gradually spiralling out of, one pitch at a time. The fact that I only know about three people doesn’t stop me pitching to strangers, but I gather that editors have been known to ignore pitches from people they’ve known and loved all their lives, so it’s no wonder 90% of mine go ignored.

‘But what is there to be glad about in all this,’ I hear you wonder. ‘Or is your memory so short you have forgotten that you’re supposed to be playing Pollyanna’s glad game?’

Never fear, gentle readers, I had not forgotten. There are a multitude of gladnesses to be gleaned in my situation.

One thing to take from all of this is that when I do finally claw my way towards a full time freelance career, I will have done it all by myself, like a career orientated little red hen. This will surely prove a worthwhile achievement, a bit like making a really good cake.

Another is that it inures me to rejection, of which there is a lot in the industry and indeed the world. It also helps me to continually hone what I am doing and to learn from my mistakes. Feedback helps in such situations, but in terms of pitching to strangers I would surmise the chances are that if they don’t reply, it wasn’t a very good one. That or I sent it to the wrong person.

And finally, all the trauma stops me taking things for granted. The fact you can do something doesn't mean it's all going to fall into place, but when it does I really appreciate it.

My Day

Today I have mostly been trying to persuade people to 'like' 12 Books in 12 Months on Facebook.

I don't really know why, to be honest. I get weekly emails from King Zuckerberg in his gold plated tree house sniping away about the fact that the page use is down and nobody likes me and I'd be as well giving up because I'm never going to go back and finish these books anyway... but I don't really pay much attention to those.

However, the slightly obsessive stat freak within would quite like the number of 'likers' to increase.

In case you don't know what I'm talking about, if you click the button to 'like' a page on Facebook, whenever a link or something is posted on that page it then appears in your stalkerfeed. (Or FB homepage, if you will.) I only update the 12 Books in 12 Months page a couple of times a week, because I don't want to be the annoying spammer who everyone hates. But I think perhaps I ought to up the ante a little bit because apparently there are still quite a few people I am ostensibly friends with who remain completely oblivious to the project.

Obviously the fact that someone 'likes' the page doesn't mean they are planning to interact with it any further than that, say by making suggestions. Still, they might mention it to other people who will, and at least that way word may spread. Which would be quite good.

So, the aim is to get to 100 'likes' by 10pm, and I will plug any pages or projects that these new likers would like me to do. It's now 8.50pm and there are 8 'likes' to go before I hit the target.

Can it be done?

Ask me again in an hour and ten minutes.

Moving With The Times

After somewhere in the region of 6-8 months of umm-ing and ahh-ing, I have purchased an iPhone 3Gs. This is on the grounds that if I want to be a proper social-media node, I need to have the capacity to read and upload breaking news as I sees it.

The main thing that swayed me was the newest deal from 3, and the offer of financial aid as a birthday gift from my lovely parents.

So I phoned o2 for the PAC code as I wanted to keep my current number, and spoke to a chap who was phenomenally pissed off with me for picking the cheaper deal.

"I can't give you any direct comparisons," he seethed, "but like, there is a reason why they're cheaper, you know? Like with us you get UK only call centres, better coverage..."

That's as may be, but you're offering half the amount of data, 400 fewer minutes, and charging £60 more for the handset...

"All I would say to you is just phone up their customer service and just compare the difference between us."

"OK," I said truthfully, given I was going to call them anyway in order to give them the PAC code.

"And you've got 14 days to opt out, which is something," he closed darkly.

Next I phoned Winston in India. Well, he had an Indian accent, he might have been in Livingston for all I know. The call took longer to get through than the one to 02, as if trying to prove angry o2 man's point. But when I got through dear old Winston was ever so nice and polite. He asked me how I was not once, but twice. And he claims my number will be transferred by Tuesday.

The ball is in your court, Winston. Use it wisely, lest angry o2 man get the last, bitter laugh.