Tag Archives: Facebook

Ask A Revolving Door

Photo by Tony the Tiger

Dear Revolving Door:

Imagine my surprise when I logged into Facebook recently and my news feed was chock-a-block with photos from my “friend’s” stomach stapling after-party, and I wasn’t in any of them. And why wasn’t I in any of them? Because I wasn’t even invited! And I’m the one who told her she should have the surgery in the first place!

Of course my “friend” didn’t post the photos herself. It was a few other so-called “mutuals” who got their hands dirty, tagging her and splattering her all over Facebook like all those annoying ads lately for skinny pills.

So should I confront my “friend” and express my feelings of hurt and confusion and basically WTF, or just leave passive-aggressive comments on all the photos? Like, guess I’ll never know what it was like to bitch about the appetizers being liquefied just so Darlene could enjoy them. Or, would I have been so rude to attend with an exposed mid-riff when the guest of honor’s stretch marks are probably visible from outer space?

“Friend”less In Fitchburg

Dear “Friend”less In Fitchburg:

Imagine your surprise when you logged into Facebook recently and your news feed was chock-a-block with photos from your “friend’s” stomach stapling after-party, and you weren’t in any of them. And why weren’t you in any of them? Because you weren’t even invited! And you were the one who told her she should have the surgery in the first place!

Of course your “friend” didn’t post the photos herself. It was a few other so-called “mutuals” who got their hands dirty, tagging her and splattering her all over Facebook like all those annoying ads lately for skinny pills.

So should you confront your “friend” and express your feelings of hurt and confusion and basically WTF, or just leave passive-aggressive comments on all the photos? Like, guess you’ll never know what it was like to bitch about the appetizers being liquefied just so Darlene could enjoy them. Or, would you have been so rude to attend with an exposed mid-riff when the guest of honor’s stretch marks are probably visible from outer space?

Dear Revolving Door:

My boss has this annoying habit of looking past me when I’m talking to him and following up on the stuff he asked for, like the quarterly earnings report for the IceVise and whatever.

My friend Crystal in HR told me he doesn’t have a medical condition or anything and I’ve never seen him do it to anyone else in the office. And it’s not like I’m the one with a medical condition, like elephantitis, or a soul patch. I’m not even a mouth-breather. But something weird’s going on. How do I confront somebody who won’t even look me in the eye?

Invisible Man

Dear Invisible Man:

Your boss has this annoying habit of looking past you when you’re talking to him and following up on the stuff he asked for, like the quarterly earnings report for the IceVise and whatever.

Your friend Crystal in HR told you he doesn’t have a medical condition or anything and you’ve never seen him do it to anyone else in the office. And it’s not like you’re the one with a medical condition, like elephantitis, or a soul patch. You’re not even a mouth-breather. But something weird’s going on. How do you confront somebody who won’t even look you in the eye?

Dear Revolving Door:

My grandkids from my son’s marriage don’t seem to understand it’s the polite thing when someone gives them a gift to send a thank-you card afterwards, even if it’s a month later. I would love a homemade card with their crayon scribbles all over it (as would my husband Jerry if he weren’t deceased), but it’s bad enough that right now I’d settle for their mother writing their names in a store-bought card with a nice sentiment already printed inside.

I’d say something to my daughter-in-law if I knew she wouldn’t take it the wrong way and start “forgetting” to invite me over to Thanksgiving, and my son being so busy lately at the macaroni plant, I’m hesitant to bring it up with him. Should I address it casually in conversation with his wife’s parents, see if they receive thank-you cards?

Gosh, I don’t want you to think I don’t forgive them every time another birthday rolls around and they clear shelf space in the play room for yet another toy from Nanna Beryl, while my sad little mailbox only knows bills, coupons for something called Black Angus, and my Widow’s Digest. I do love my only grandkids to death and squeeze them just so tight tight tight whenever I get to see them!

But I worry about their future if they don’t learn these things now. What should I do?

Grandma In A Pickle

Dear Grandma In A Pickle:

Your grandkids from your son’s marriage don’t seem to understand it’s the polite thing when someone gives them a gift to send a thank-you card afterwards, even if it’s a month later. You would love a homemade card with their crayon scribbles all over it (as would your husband Jerry if he weren’t deceased), but it’s bad enough that right now you’d settle for their mother writing their names in a store-bought card with a nice sentiment already printed inside.

You’d say something to your daughter-in-law if you knew she wouldn’t take it the wrong way and start “forgetting” to invite you over to Thanksgiving, and your son being so busy lately at the macaroni plant, you’re hesitant to bring it up with him. Should you address it casually in conversation with his wife’s parents, see if they receive thank-you cards?

Gosh, you don’t want me to think you don’t forgive them every time another birthday rolls around and they clear shelf space in the play room for yet another toy from Nanna Beryl, while your sad little mailbox only knows bills, coupons for something called Black Angus, and your Widow’s Digest. You do love your only grandkids to death and squeeze them just so tight tight tight whenever you get to see them!

But you worry about their future if they don’t learn these things now. What should you do?

What A Blog Wants For Christmas

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Photo by Karyn Sig

Okay, seeing that Bryan hasn’t been at the helm for a few weeks and hasn’t responded to my SOS, I guess it’s up to me to steer this ship before it runs aground. Translation: I’ve got write myself again and in the process stretch a metaphor to its breaking point.

Hello everybody, if we haven’t met before, I’m Bryan’s blog. The last time I wrote myself, it came off as kind of a bitch-fest, and I don’t want to replicate that here. Of course, this post is still all about me, but effort has been made to tailor it to what’s happening out there in the human world.

And what’s happening right now is kids young and old are busy making their Christmas lists, and why should a blog be any different? Cut to: Here’s what Bryan’s blog wants for Christmas.

1) More attention from the “blogmaster” – Still finishing my social media version of “A Christmas Carol” to slip under Bryan’s tree this year. If that doesn’t work, me and his Facebook page and Twitter account will literally put on ghost costumes and scare the bejeezus out of him.

2) An ad linked to an online gambling service – Maybe we only make 2 cents every click, but it adds up and suddenly the items on this list become a reality. Of course, if you have a gambling addiction, only click on this ad two or three or times a week.

3) A Mrs. Bryan’s Blog – Hey, it’s not only animals, vegetables, and minerals who have “needs.”

4) Flashing tabs – Spectacle sells, my friends. Who doesn’t want to click on a “Blog” tab that’s lit up like Times Square?

5) An afternoon with Google Analytics (for a little “Search Engine Optimization,” if you get my meaning) – FYI, this is about as close as I get to paying someone to service those aforementioned “needs.” Here’s hoping someone comes through on #3.

6) A few more reader comments – Yeah, if I could put on a Santa suit and set up a bucket and ring a bell outside your house I would.

7) Dearfoam slippers – No explanation necessary.

8) World peace -It’s still cool to want that, right?

9) A theme song – Something that suggests an air of danger but also folksy-wholesomeness, so obviously it’ll need castanets and hand-claps.

10) Insert your gift idea for Bryan’s blog this Christmas. Translation: more pandering for reader comments. Ring! Ring!

All right then everyone, go safely forth this holiday season and keep a certain blog (and maybe $30-$40) in mind during all this giving and receiving business. Thank you in advance.

LATFOB – What Stuck With Me Part 1

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Photo by Carolyn Kraft

“Starting a book trying to achieve the big picture will get you into trouble.”

“You can’t be an American novelist and not be haunted by The Great Gatsby.”

“Reinvention. Characters who try always fail…and that’s a novel.”

“Cormac McCarthy has three books where babies are being eaten. How does he get away with that?”

The answer to our nation’s problems is craft brewing. It’s the artisanal movement that’s going to save us.”

“75% of all literary fiction readers are female.”

“I refuse to have a cover with a beheaded woman on it.”

“Can’t think about who’s going to like your book while you’re writing it.”

“Fiction is an act of prolonged empathy.”

“Writing is about trying to be less afraid.”

“The reward of writing is the opportunity of having a genuine experience.”

“Worst thing to do as a writer is to be afraid of writing from the perspective of gender or race other than one’s own.”

“You can’t read a great novel and update your Facebook status at the same time.”

“I want to entertain myself at the same time I’m trying to entertain my audience.”

“You never stop coming of age.”

“When you go into a project nervous–that’s a good sign.”

“If you’re from the South and someone kills a person in front of you, the proper thing to say is ‘Well, that was a very interesting choice.'”

“While you’re writing, always ask yourself ‘Is it true?'”

“The hive mind is in ascendance.”

“YA writers have established a community; they even write together.”

“This is the golden age of storytelling in YA fiction.”

“To be a reader now is really to be in pig heaven.”

“There needs to be more diversity in YA literature. Overall, there’s not a lot of people of color [in executive positions] in the publishing industry.”

“Transvaginal wanding is not just my drag name.”

“Fairytales take away the burden of originality. They are like a river of stories we can dip into and swim around in.”

“Fairytales invite us to change the world as we know it. And because it is a world of change it’s possible to take the marginal characters and make them the center of the story.”

“Fairytales are constantly recast to fit the culture.”

“Ultimately what we take away from fairytales isn’t their morals but their sense of wonderment.”

“It is so pleasurable to read as a child.”

“Finding yourself as a writer is discovering what really moves you as a reader.”

“Writing is intuitive. Like a person stumbling around a dark room, a dark forest. Images become stepping stones to get across the river.”

“Post-modern novels seem to be contemptuous of the reader.”

“The first job of the writer isn’t to cater to the audience.”

“The challenge is clarity.”

“Amazing that out of nothing can come a novel.”

The wit and wisdom above was collected onto a miniature yellow notepad Saturday April 21 at the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books. Said perspicacity was uttered by anonymous festival-goers, as well as the novelists Chad Harbach, Lauren Groff, Jonathan Evison, Anthony Giardina, Libba Bray, Pete Hautman, Aimee Bender, Sarah Shun-lien Bynum, Trinie Dalton, Jack Gantos, Ransom Riggs, and Thane Rosenbaum.

Distractions

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Illustration by El Gordo

If you’re like me and write from home, you know there’s no shortage of enticing distractions that desire to consume your attention and pull you off course. You’ve got your Internet and its evil henchmen Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube. You’ve got your emails, your texting, your IM’ing. If you’re old school you’ve got your TV, your radio, or a phone that actually rings that you actually answer and use to talk to people. And of course there’s always a shelf that needs dusting, a rug that needs beating, and a very persuasive bottle of glue that needs sniffing.

Despite these challenges, I’m proud to say I’ve done a good job over the years of maintaining focus while in the act of writing, of steeling myself against any unnecessary divertissements. And yet the universe continues to test me–taunt me is more like it– with no end of new diversions.

Lately it’s the talking birds.

You know what I’m saying, writers, you’ve heard them too. So many opinions about everything, right? From how to turn the economy around (giant bird feeders on every street corner would require a huge workforce to pull off) to saving the US Postal Service (carrier-pigeons work for worms, unemployed postal carriers can build the giant bird feeders), to reversing climate change (allow more nests to be built in more smokestacks).

Sure the world can always use more problem solvers, but their timing is awful. It never fails. There I am tapping away on my computer having locked in on a steady rhythm, and there they are tapping their beaks against the window near my writing desk. I don’t want to acknowledge them but they won’t stop tapping until I do, and oh look, it’s Mr. and Mrs. Crow all fluffing-feather-excited about something. “Hey Bry, you busy? Wanna hear about our brilliant new low-cal regurgitation diet? That’s okay, you go ahead and bang your head against the desk and we’ll just tell you anyway.”

I remember the bumper stickers that said KILL YOUR TELEVISION, and as stated above TV is most definitely a distraction. Using this logic I guess I should shoot all the talking birds; however, a very similar strategy didn’t make me many friends in the neighborhood back when talking squirrels weren’t extinct.

What’s the solution here? I need help. How do you deal with your talking birds?

My Job Interview With The Internet

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Photo by Alex Handy

Thank goodness I didn’t need the Internet’s permission to put up my new website and blog. But what if I did? Well, it might go a little something like this…

Internet: So what have you got for me?

Bryan: Okay, it’s a—

Internet: FYI, speak in 140 characters or less, or I’m catching z’s dude.

Bryan: I have this new website with a blog page, a way to establish a—

Internet: OMFG! :O You gotta see this video! A baby just ate a cat. ROFLMAO!

Bryan: —a web presence. I’m a writer. A novelist and a screen—

Internet: You got content. I got content. You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.

Bryan: Exactly. I’m posting excerpts of my stuff—

Internet: Plug in your e-reader, or go wireless if your computer’s into virtual sex, I don’t care. Download, upload, use me, abuse me. And I’ll return the favor. BFWB, right?

Bryan: I should admit up front I’m kind of a purist. I still prefer my books in a tangible form.

Internet: JCOATW. You probably read actual newspapers and magazines too.

Bryan: Is “yes” the wrong answer?

Internet: Hey, I read The New Yorker, big deal. Okay, only the cartoons, and only the ones with naked people in them. They should put more of those in. Something about cartoon naked people…

Bryan: So, as I was saying, my website has a page for each of my—

Internet: Memes? Animated New Yorker cartoons with the naked people?

Bryan: No.

Internet: Too bad. I’d like to see that. How about a montage of shots from the Royal Wedding combined with the audio of that drunk kid in Florida who wrestled a lawn mower?

Bryan: Would I have a better chance with you if I did?

Internet: BOOMM. What’s trending right now? Babies eating cats, J-Beeb’s prison tats, Facebook’s Provisional Government in Libya. Are you still here, NOOB?